“Dot.” His fingers were buried in my hair as he ravaged me with his expert mouth. Without finesse, without game, without the untouchable coolness he normally carried himself with. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.” I’d never seen Row so authentic, so final, so…out of control. He was usually unruffled and composed; I felt so drunk with power, my head spun. “Please,” I croaked. “I know what I want.” “And what is it that you want?” “You.”
