Page 34 of Wicked Little Darling

“Please? Please close your eyes?” I heard how desperate I sounded and I didn’t care. Iwasdesperate—to get off him so I could go nurse this crushing shame alone.

Dakota’s mouth turned up in a smirk and he said, “Why? You gonna kiss me?”

I stared at him in horror and couldn’t stop myself from glancing down at his despicable mouth that kept saying the most ridiculous things. “What? No, I’m not going to kiss you! What the hell?—”

“Chill, I was just joking. You’re way too serious. When’s the last time you had any fun? Have youeverhad fun?”

“I—” I didn’t know. I couldn’t recall. Before I was thirteen, that was for sure. Damn it, that wasn’t the point! “Can you please just close your eyes? Please?”

Something flickered in Dakota’s eyes and was gone before I could pin it down. He licked his lips, the movement drawing my gaze back down to that full, wide mouth. He had a freckle on his bottom lip, far in the left corner. So many fucking freckles. “I will if you tell me what that pretty mark on your face is.Andif you say please again.”

…pretty?

He was making fun of me again.

I brought my eyes back up to his as my lip lifted in a snarl, and vicious words gathered on the tip of my tongue, but I kept my mouth shut and moved my gaze to the enormous scar cutting across his face.

His freckles softened that harsh, jagged line; the edges of it were dotted with neat little lines that looked like the remnants of staples, like they’d tried to staple the skin back together and in doing so, had only left even more damage behind.

It was…beautiful, in all honesty.

Pretty.

What had happened to him?

I met Dakota’s gaze again and said, “I’ll tell you if you tell me how you got your scar.”

He blinked at me, and then his lips stretched into a wide, wicked smile that made my heart race. His teeth were whiteand straight, and though his incisors were sharp, they weren’t dripping with venom like I’d imagined that first day.

“Well, look at you making deals. Okay, I’ll play. You first.”

I wasn’t sure what was happening anymore, but all I knew was that if this was what he needed to close his eyes so I could keep my secret, I didn’t care. I’d do it. I’d do anything to keep him from finding out.

I scraped my teeth against my bottom lip, then said, “It’s called a port-wine stain. It’s a type of birthmark caused by a gene mutation. That’s it.”

Dakota’s gaze trailed down to my shoulder, where I had a similar smaller mark, then back to my face. “Hm. I really like it. Looks kinda like a butterfly. Very cute.”

I blinked as he kept smiling.

Very…cute?

My lips parted, but my vocal cords had frozen. Heat bloomed across my cheeks again, and I hated the fact that I was blushing, but…what? He was fucking with me, right? He had to be. No one had ever called my birthmarkprettyorcute. It was alwaysugly ugly ugly.

Gross.

Nasty.

Repulsive.

Weird.

Dakota lifted his head up off the bed and tilted it to the side a little, and I was still stuck on his earlier words, so when the tip of his nose brushed against my neck and he inhaled, I reared back.

“What are you doing?”

Dakota let his head fall back to the bed and licked his lips. “Smelling you. You smell really good. Like—” He lifted his head again, and this time when he touched his nose to my throat, I felt the softness his lips ghost against my skin. “Like flowers in the sun,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over my neck.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the heat in my cheeks intensified, and an answering warmth spread through my groin with a shocking speed. My dick started to thicken against him, and I heard the sound of cotton ripping. I looked down to see I was still clutching his shirt in my hands—so hard that I’d fuckingripped it open.