Page 200 of Wicked Little Darling

“Can I take the blindfold off now?”

Something warm and soft touched my lips?—

Oh.

Dakota’s tongue slowly glided along the seam of my lips as he slid his fingers into my hair, and his low, raspy voice made me shudder.

“I dunno, it’s kinda turning me on,” he murmured.

I moaned when he bit my bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth, and trailed one hand down my back and over the curve of my ass.

“I really hope no one can see us,” I chastised when he started biting along my jaw. I tilted my head as he pressed soft kisses down to my neck, then jolted when his teeth sank in hard.

“Fuck!”

Dakota laughed into my skin,

He moved my hand until he was pressing my palm against his hard cock, and fuck, the feel of it made me want to strip him down right here and take him in my mouth.

“I bet you were hard before we even came in here,” I said, squeezing him through his pants.

His forehead bumped into mine, his shallow breaths puffing against my lips. “Yeah, you caught me. I’m never not hard when I’m with you. It’s your fault.”

“Oh, so I should take responsibility for it?”

“Will you? Please? Touch me, Reese.”

Fuck. When he begged me like that, I wanted to give him everything. I moved my hand lower, trailing my fingers over his balls and savoring his hitched breath as he stepped closer.

“I thought you brought me here to show me something, not to fuck around.” I didn’t pull away, though. Just kept holding him, slowly massaging my hand into him as he lazily thrust into me. “I swear to god, Dakota, if there are people in here watching this, I’m going to eat you alive.”

“Ah, fuck, I should’ve brought an audience,” he rasped, wrapping his arms around me and trapping my hand between our bodies. “Can you do it anyway?”

He cradled my face in his hands and kissed me slowly. Reverently. Poured every ounce of his love into every press of his lips, every touch of his tongue, every beat of his heart against mine.

“Come here,” he said softly, drawing away and linking his fingers through mine, tugging me along.

As much as he joked around, he had a serious side to him. A deeply emotional, tenderhearted side that only came out with me.

“Here,” he said, stopping. I cried out when he scooped me up in his arms, any annoyance dissipating when he rubbed his cheek against mine. “You sit here.” He gently set me down in a soft, plush seat. The arms were like velvet, and I dragged my fingers down the material.

I had no idea what he was planning. He said he wanted to do something special for our three-year anniversary of the day we’d met in the cemetery, so he blindfolded me, carried me into the car, and then we’d spent five hours driving somewhere.

He hadn’t let me take the blindfold off, even when we stopped at a rest area to use the bathroom.

He was enjoying this way too much—but then again, so was I.

“Leave the blindfold on. I’ll tell you when you can take it off.” He traced a finger around my birthmark, and then was gone.

I was so, so tempted to move the blindfold, to watch him walk away, watch that ass in those sexy-as-fuck black dress pants he was wearing. I’d only gotten a glimpse of his outfit, but Dakota was fine as fuck in his formal attire.

Black jacket, crisp white shirt, black dress shoes, hair combed neatly.

I couldn’t wait to peel every piece of clothing off him later.

Dakota cleared his throat loudly, and it echoed around us. “You can take it off now.”

I reached up and ripped off the blindfold, then had to shut my eyes against the bright lights. I blinked, letting them adjust, then looked around me.