Page 92 of Wicked Little Darling

It was almost hard to believe he was here, that this was happening, that he was letting me do this, that he wanted to do something like this with me.

Me.

“Dakota,” he said hoarsely, and then he just kept saying my name over and over again, pushing his ass back onto my cock, grinding against me.

At some point, he became so lost in how good it felt that he wasn’t even capable of moving by himself anymore, so I took over, shuttling our hands up and down his shaft, faster and faster, until he threw his head back and came with the loudest, sexiest moan I’d ever heard.

My own orgasm burst through me, and I bit down on his ear to stifle my moans, pushing up into his ass with every wave of ecstasy. Everything dimmed as the intense euphoria sparked through my system, and all I could do was hold onto Reese as my muscles tensed up and I stopped breathing. When it began to fade, Reese was still moaning loudly, so I slid my trembling hand over his mouth. “Shh. You’re gonna wake up the entire floor.”

He grabbed my hand and moved it away. “What—Dakota, nobody’s even here!”

I rolled my hips up, pressing my sensitive cock into him. “Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re mad at me. Like I’m in trouble. You should punish me, Reese.”

“You literallyjustcame and you’re hard again? What the fuck is that?”

“I’m a young, virile man?—”

“Please never say virile again.”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tight. “You’re so cranky and adorable.” I kissed the side of his head, and he tried shoving my face away from him. “Thanks for letting me hold you. I definitely feel better now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” he grumbled.

“Do you feel better?”

He sighed, then sat up and pushed my leg over so he could scoot to the edge of the bed.

Disappointment crawled through me, and I tried not to let it show. But when I saw his face, that disappointment became a profound satisfaction that swelled in my chest.

He was so flustered right now that I wanted to lick every inch of his red face.

He wasn’t regretting it, he was just embarrassed.

Fuck, why was that turning me on? I really was a perverted bastard.

“Um, I need to go shower,” he said, hurrying to the bathroom without looking at me.

It was so, so hard not to go after him, scoop him up, and rub my face all over his.

I had no idea how to describe the feelings that kept multiplying whenever I was with him. How happy I was just to be near him.

He treated me likeme. Not Dakota Voss, the child prodigy that had disfigured himself and spent a year in the nuthouse.

Just Dakota. The boy who’d been adopted into a horror show of a family and hadn’t ever really had anyone see him for who he was.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the shower and wondering how long it was going to take me to break down his walls.

The shower was still going after thirty minutes, and even though I wanted to bust the door down and make sure he was okay, I didn’t have that right and he’d just resent me for continuing to cross the lines he was drawing. I could hear him in there, moving around. He was fine. He’d be fine.

I got up and put on my jacket and shoes, then quietly left to go sit beneath the willow to give him the space he needed right now.

17

YOU CAUGHT ME