Page 96 of Wicked Little Darling

But he was adopted, so what if he’d never met his birth parents? I realized I didn’t know very much about Dakota at all.

“What happened to your birth parents?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I just pretend that they died because it’s easier than thinking they didn’t want me. Can you blame them, though? Look how I turned out.” He winked, and this time, it only made me angry.

I punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that. You turned out fine.”

Dakota clutched his arm. “Oh, there he is. Thought you’d been replaced by a weird, sweet doppelgänger. Or gotten possessed. I was about to call a priest.”

“I haven’t been sweet for a long time,” I muttered.

“But you were?” He leaned forward and twisted toward me, those dark eyes capturing mine. “That means you still are, thatyou’ve just hidden away that part. I wonder what I have to do to lure it back out.”

He set his hand on my thigh, and I didn’t move.

“You can’t lure out what isn’t there anymore.”

“Oh, I think it’s still there. I’ve seen bits and pieces. You’ve been leaving evidence all over the place. Little crumbs for me to find.” He drew closer. “Do you know why I like the night so much now, even though I’m afraid of the dark?”

I stared into his eyes and slowly shook my head.

“When you’re sleeping is the only time I get to see you without your guard up.” Dakota leaned closer, and I held as still as I could because—because he was going to kiss me, wasn’t he? He was going to?—

He brushed his cheek against mine and whispered in my ear, “I like the night so much because it gives me the version of yourself that you’ve been fighting so hard to hide. It gives meyou.”

He slid his tongue under my earlobe, captured it in his mouth and bit down. The pleasure that sparked through me froze my lungs, and when he moved down to my neck, I tilted my head without hesitation. He slid his hand into my hair and tugged at the strands, exposing my throat to him as he inhaled, then gently closed his teeth over my pulse point.

My eyes rolled back when I felt his tongue glide against my skin, and the first word that exploded from my chest was, “Harder.”

Dakota groaned and moved over me, straddling me as he bit down harder, and when he sucked, the electric heat that ran through my body made me buck beneath him. I grabbed onto his waist as he sucked and bit, the pain and pleasure so intertwined I wasn’t sure which was more intoxicating. My thighs tensed, and I was so hard that the slightest frictionfrom my pants made me feel like I’d come any second.

He pulled back, and I made a sound of frustration as he stared into my eyes. His chest was heaving, his face flushed, his lips glistening and red.

He looked wrecked when we’d barely done anything, and I wanted to see what he looked like after coming.

AfterI’dmade him come.

“You know, you left a mark on me that time in the laundry room and I’ve been dying for you to give me more,” he panted, staring down at me with eyes full of need. He trailed his fingers up my neck, brushing over the rawness of my tender skin and sending little tingles of pleasure and pain through my body. He kept going higher until he reached my birthmark, gently tracing it. Without warning he leaned forward, licked it, then bit down and groaned into my skin.

Precum spilled from the tip of my cock and I moaned, my hips lifting from the ground, and then the Dakota from my dream flashed through my mind, naked and hovering over me, and I wanted that. I needed that.

I wanted to wreck him like he was wrecking me.

I reached down between us and palmed his dick. He was so hot and hard through his pants, and he immediately rubbed himself into my hand and groaned. He dropped his head into the crook of my neck and gasped, “Oh, fuck. Fuck, yes, touch me. Please fucking touch me, Reese.”

His begging was unraveling me.

I pressed the heel of my palm against his length and slid up and down. “Take it out,” I said. His hands were shaking against my waist, and to have this big man falling apart at my touch was heady and arousing.

Dakota panted into my neck, his hot breath puffing on the sensitive marks he’d made. God it felt so fucking good. He slid one hand between us and covered mine in his, pushing ourhands harder against his erection and grinding into them as he moaned into my skin.

“Take it out,” I said again. There was heat brewing in the pit of my stomach, burning across my face and chest. I was angry at him for making me feel all these things, angry at him for being so goddamn sexy like this, angry at him for being so damnhonestall the time. In his words, his reactions—he was driving me utterly insane.

“I’m not gonna last,” he croaked, fumbling with the button and zipper.

“I don’t care.” As soon as his pants were undone, I slid my hand inside his jock and pulled his length out, stroking up to the tip and sliding my thumb over the precum there.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, looking down between our bodies to watch me touch him. “Fuck, look at that. Your hand is so soft.” He moved his hips, trying to slide himself through my hand, so I started stroking him.