Page 176 of Wicked Little Darling


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I rolled my eyes, then pressed a soft kiss to those perfect lips and said, “I’m really proud of you, you know that? In spite of everything you’ve gone through, you turned out like this. You’re amazing, Dakota. And you should be proud of yourself, too.”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever forget the look he gave me then, so filled with love and affection and a deep, contented peace laced with awe.

He didn’t say a word, just slid one hand up my back until he was cradling my head, his fingers tugging at my hair as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth with a small groan. He walked forward until my back smacked into the wall, and then both his hands were holding my head, moving me the way he wanted me. I threaded my fingers through his hair and thrust my tongue into his mouth, then nipped at his lips, trailing tiny bites down his jaw and pulling his head back so I could get to his throat.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sliding his hands down to my ass. He started to move me against him, and I moaned into his neck. “Bite me. I want?—”

He cut off on a moan as I sank my teeth into his throat and sucked.

I’d leave a mark so indelible it would never fade. He’d never be rid of me. Every time he looked in the mirror, he’d be reminded of his love for me.

It was cruel and selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from biting down harder so I could feel him squeeze me even tighter, moan even louder.

I licked the spot I’d just ruined, nipped his ear, and murmured, “You’re seriously gonna be late for class.” His full-body shiver was deliciously satisfying.

“What class,” he said breathlessly, his broad hands kneading my ass. He touched his forehead to mine and slid his fingers under my shirt at my back, tracing into and around the dimples above my ass. “I love these.”

I’d never have this again, I knew that. These months with Dakota had been the best of my life; they were irreplaceable. I’d never find another person like him again—and I didn’t want to.

I just wanted to keep these memories in a safe box, to keep it close to my heart and remember that I’d had something perfect once. Something precious.

I’d had it…and ruined it.

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I tried to blink them away.

I would go back if I could.

Do things differently.

I wasn’t sure what, maybe tell him the truth from the start, love him better, the way he deserved, but it was too late for that now.

“What’s the matter?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

He brushed his finger beneath my eye. “You look sad this morning. What’s on your mind? And as much as I want you to say me, I hope it’s not because I never want to make you sad.”

I didn’t want to make him sad, either, but I was about to rip his heart into pieces. That beautiful, honest heart he’d given to me so eagerly.

The thought made me nauseous, and I lowered my gaze as I tried to swallow past the thick lump in my throat. “Nothing’s the matter, I’m just a little tired.”

“You slept through the night, though. Other than the morning sex. Well, actually, that counts since you were sleeping through most of it.”

I shrugged and fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was so soft. “I guess it wasn’t restful. I dunno. I’m just tired this morning, it’s fine.”

“I thought you were done lying to me,” he said softly, brushing his nose against mine.

I almost blurted everything out right then and there; a rush of sadness mixed with an intense fondness barreled through me so fast it practically shoved every truth from my chest.

“Who’s lying?” I whispered. My throat was getting too tight; I probably wouldn’t even be able to speak soon. “Because it would never be me.”

“Oh, no, of course not. Never you.” He drew his finger down my nose, then kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

He set me down, turned to leave, and panic sliced through me.

“Dakota, wait,” I rushed out, grabbing his hand.

He looked back at me with a raised a brow, and I let my gaze slowly memorize every beautiful inch of his face.