Page 84 of Whimper Wonderland
I loosen my hold. She climbs out of my lap and gets up, vanishing back in Ophelia’s bedroom.
Spud sits across from me, mouth open, like he’s laughing. His heavy breaths rattle in time with the radiator. I rip him off an edge of cheesy bread and he takes it in a single swallow. I don’t think he even chews. I’m his new best friend.
I clean our plates. Moments later, Dove exits the bedroom. There’s an apology in her eyes. “I think I need to be with her.”
I dry my hands. “I’ll get a cab.”
Relief in her eyes. She’s too tired to put up a fight.
Dove walks me out of her apartment. We linger in the hall, and I tug on the sweater. “I’ll return this.”
“I have one of yours. You have one of mine. We’re even.” She folds her arms across her chest, leaning back against the door.
It’s chilly in the hall. Her nipples are hard underneath her shirt, and her shorts are too short around those bare legs. I’m getting bad ideas.I need to go.
“Thanks again,” she says. “For?—”
“Don’t ever thank me.” My tone is firm. “You need me. I’m here. I had a good night.”
Her eyes crinkle, amused. “Yeah. Me too, actually.”
Her eyes linger on me. I feel exposed, suddenly, the way she’s looking at me, as though she can see through my clothes, through my skin and muscles, to the blood pumping too quickly through my veins. She reaches out, her fingers tracing across my chest.
“You’re a good man, Dorian,” she says decisively.
A goodman. Not a good boy. Not a good pup.
A good man.
My throat goes unexpectedly tight. I can’t explain how healing it is to hear those words out loud, after years of being called things likebad boy, homewrecker, disappointment.
“Goodnight, Dove,” I tell her.
“Night.”
I lean in. I press a small, sweet kiss to her lips. Simple. Chaste. Innocent.
Agoodnightkiss.
Then I pull away.
Go, I tell my feet.Move.
But Dove’s green-eyed stare roots me in my place. Everything in me feels hyper-focused. I can see every freckle dotting her cheeks. The flutter of every eyelash. The way her plush lips fall open, just a little, as she sucks in a tight, shaky breath.
Dove reaches for me. She grips the sweater, yanks me against her, and pushes her lips heatedly against mine.
Fuck it. I unlock.
I dive my tongue into her mouth. I kiss her the way I want—the way I’ve been craving all night. No.All year. For months on end. I claim every inch of her mouth, devouring her, mapping her. I crush her body against the wall and I feel her hips press back, wanting. My tongue lashes against hers and she moans into my mouth, her body giving a small, tight buck against mine.
I plant my palms on her doorframe. I imagine there are chains on my wrists, hooking them to the wall. I have to keep my palms on the wall. If I move my hands to her body, it’ll be all over. I won’t be able to stop touching her. I’ll fuck her, right here, in the hallway, not giving a single damn about who might walk in on us. I’ll make her scream until she wakes the entire building. I won’t stop, not until I have her clenching around my cock.
I’ll be back to making no good, terrible choices, and I can’t have that.
Dove deserves better.
Dove deserves everything.
