Page 65 of Phantom Flower

The mall was massive. I walked beside him in the new clothes he had already bought me.

Dimitri carried every single bag without complaint.

“You know,” I said as we left the third store, “we could’ve just gone to my house. Grabbed my own clothes. This wasn’t necessary.”

Dimitri glanced at me, unimpressed. “Your clothes are all black. You dress like you’re attending your own funeral every day. You need color.”

I stopped walking. “You’re literally dressed head to toe in black right now.”

He looked down at himself, black shirt, black pants, black boots, then back at me with that smug smirk. “Yes. But it works on me. Makes me look powerful.” His eyes dragged over me again, slower this time. “On you? It makes you look like you’re trying to disappear. You shouldn’t disappear. You should stand out.”

I swallowed. No one had ever talked to me like that.

“Are you saying I look bad in black?”

Dimitri turned to face me fully, stepping close enough that I had to tilt my head back. The bags rustled between us.

“I don’t think you can look bad in anything. But black doesn’t suit you. You should be drowned in color.” His fingers brushed my jaw. “I want to see you shine.”

My face burned. I looked away fast, pretending to study a random storefront so he would not see how much that affected me.

Dimitri chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. “Come on, little fairy. Don’t get shy on me now. We’re not done.”

We were not.

He spotted the ice cream parlor like a predator spotting prey. His eyes lit up.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered. “Come on. We’re getting ice cream.”

I did not even try to argue. There was something dangerously endearing about how excited he got over sugar. The same man who killed people for a living lit up like a kid at the sight of sprinkles and waffle cones.

Inside, Dimitri was a menace. He grabbed every single sample spoon the terrified employee offered and proceeded to taste nearly every flavor, one after another, with zero shame. The poor girl behind the counter looked like she wanted to cry but did not dare say a word. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Which one do you want?” he asked eventually, licking a spoon clean with far too much enthusiasm.

“Vanilla,” I said.

“Vanilla? That’s fucking boring. You’re not getting vanilla.”

Before I could protest, he ordered for both of us, something bright and fruity with berries and mango for me, and a massive, ridiculous combination of chocolate, caramel, honey, and brownie bits for himself.

Of course.

We ended up leaning against the wall outside near his car. Dimitri devoured his ice cream, barely pausing to breathe. I ate slower, watching him with amusement.

“You’re going to get sick if you keep eating like that,” I muttered.

He licked his spoon slowly, eyes flicking to my mouth. “Are you worried about me, Lyubimyy?”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my stomach flipped at that word. “Keep dreaming.”

I kept eating, staring straight ahead, when suddenly wet heat dragged across the corner of my mouth. Dimitri had leaned in and licked the ice cream off my face, his tongue brushing the edge of my lips in a filthy drag.

He pulled back, licking his own lips. “You had something there.”

My face burned so hot I thought I might combust. “You—you could’ve just handed me a tissue! Why did you lick me?!”

Dimitri shrugged, completely unrepentant. His gaze dropped to my mouth again, darker now. “I wanted to. And soon I’ll do a lot more than just licking, little fairy. I’ll have you spread out on my bed, begging for my mouth everywhere.”