"Hey," I whisper, tilting his face toward mine. "What's wrong?"
He leans into my palm, eyes closing again for a moment.
"I have never seen you in a dress before," he admits roughly. "And here you are. In a beautiful dress. For someone else."
I hold his face in my hands and think about all the times I wanted him to hold my gaze exactly like this while he turned away instead.
"You never asked me to wear one for you."
I'm not cruel, but still. He knows I'm right.
"I'm here now," I offer softly. "Callahan, I'm right here."
He makes a sound like pain, before he looks down at my mouth and then the neckline of my dress.
"Take it off." He says it like he's finally run out of patience.
Heat floods through me at his words, pooling low in my belly. The raw edge in his voice sends a hot, liquid pulse between my thighs, and I haven't even opened my mouth to fire back before his hand slides down and wraps around my throat. I go very still under it.
His mouth finds my lips, before moving down my throat.Teeth first, a slow graze, and then he sucks hard and I know he's just marked me.
"Fuck, Call..."
His hand squeezes then and his name dies on my lips.
"I don't know which version of you I like best," he growls against my lips, low and dangerous. "The one who can't stop tormenting me with that smart mouth..." His tongue grazes my lower lip, slow and filthy. "Or this needy version of you, right in the palm of my hand."
I whimper. Completely and without dignity.
"Look at that," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to my mouth and climbing back up. "You love that, don't you?"
Oh, he's dangerous like this. I want to say something sharp. I have several options available, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out.
He smiles. Slow and a little terrible, flashing those sharp canines of his, like he's just found something he's been looking for and will never let it go.
"Gunmetal eyes," he murmurs, almost to himself. His hold on my throat tightens. "And not a single word. Who knew it was that easy?"
I'm going to kill him. Later.
My head falls back against the wall, thighs clenching as arousal throbs between my legs. I have never felt this undone, this exposed.
His hand leaves my throat and I miss it instantly. Finding the hem of my dress he pulls it up and over my head in one motion, and tosses it somewhere behind him.
Cool air hits my skin, then his body heat, then his palm cupping my breast through my bra, thumb circling until I ache under the fabric.
He rips the cup down and puts his mouth on me and I forget every pushback I ever had. It’s hot and wet, and then there's the sting of his teeth, enough to make me gasp, and then his tongue soothing over it. He does it again. And again. Until I stop keeping track.
I cry out and my hands go into his hair, fingers threading in, and he makes a low approving sound against my skin that goes straight down my spine.
"Where are your words now, Trouble?" He pulls back just enough to catch my eye, sharp and a little mean. "You always have so many of them."
His thigh slides between mine like it belongs there, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
"Callahan," I whisper. "Please."
The name comes out wrong, too needy. He leaves my skin slowly, like he's reluctant to do it. His lips are swollen and his eyes look darker than I've ever seen them.
"Please what, Lily?" His voice is calm, too calm, considering the burn of his eyes. “Are you actually begging?”
