Chapter 35
Chapter 35
I knew he could hear the heavy thudding in my heart, and I knew he could hear the quickening speed in mine. Once more, I bent my head toward his chest and moved my fingers back to the buttons. However, this time, I lacked the patience to loosen each one individually, so instead I tugged at the shirt's seams and watched the buttons come loose.
His shirt's top three buttons fell to the floor, and he surrounded me with a snarl of hunger. It looked like he enjoyed the rough treatment I was giving him, so perhaps I might take advantage of it in the future.
He placed his hand on the small of my back and pulled me towards him, pressing his arousal into my stomach. I bit my tongue to keep from answering it because I needed to exercise caution because I was now in risky terrain. It was one thing to try to hide the enormity of his erection; it was quite another to tease it.
I flattened my palm against his torso. His heartbeat was rapid, continuous, and unaltered. I touched him and felt his wolf vibrate through him. My lips were inches from his skin as I leaned in towards him, laying my forehead against his stiffened muscles just above his heart. My resolve to stop myself from doing anything further was around me like frail strands of unstitched linen.
His body tightened as I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath, but my attention was solely on one thing.
I was more afraid than I realized when I saw the heart my mother had sent me, and I couldn't stop seeing it in my thoughts. I focused on Derrick's heartbeat, counting each beat until it helped me relax. He observed me silently, his clasp on me shifting every so often while he waited for me to gather my courage. My touch merely seemed to maintain his heart rate, not increase it like it was doing mine.
"Feeling better now?" My breathing changed, and he noticed it as I gradually moved away from him. His eyes glistened, his playful tone brimming with contentment that engulfed me and left me utterly irritated.
I withdrew from his grasp and stepped away from him.
My fury was back, mainly directed towards myself, even though my wolf had been subdued for the time being and she wouldn't be disturbing me with her wild emotions for a while.
"If you weren't going to answer the phone when I called, why would you give me your number? I believed that something had happened to you.
"You were worried about me?" I closed my mouth when he cut me off.
I was yelling at him, and all he heard was that I was concerned about him. My agitation was bringing out my inner wolf again, and I didn't need her to put any more pressure on me to do something foolish. I was as fond of caressing my partner as she was, but the stakes were too high.
I put my palm on my forehead and inhaled deeply.
"I'm not incapable of caring about you, you know," I muttered, trying not to show my vulnerability. Why was I telling him that, and where had that come from?
I believe he understood that my viciousness was an act, too; it was a barrier of defense I was attempting to put up to keep myself from getting wounded. I was not naive and knew that everything that was going to happen would be at the expense of my birthright, so I wasn't frightened that he would injure me, but every move I made in that direction and every decision I made would only increase the likelihood that I would hurt myself.
I didn't say you were. I'm delighted you're here because it's been a hard day." He skirted me and crossed the room to the couch across from me. He gazed at me, his shoulders sagging with quiet fatigue. "Sit with me for a little while." With a quiet murmur, he stared at me, and I was unable to resist his advances.
He had not spoken about the agony that was raging inside of him, but I could still sense it. I moved and saw the light come into his eyes, which made my heart skip a beat. His desire for me was so strong that it permeated every fiber of his existence, but I was made to oppose him at every turn—to struggle and ultimately fail.
On my way there, I stopped at the drinks cart and poured him a glass of whiskey, then stepped up to stand in front of him. He looked up at me as he accepted the drink that I held out to him. I observed how his lips curled over the lip of the glass, then he knocked it back, leaving the glass empty on the small table next to him.
He inhaled deeply and bent over me, his hands finding my hips and his fingers spreading out over the fabric of my dress and the tops of my thighs. I sank my teeth into my cheeks to smother the frantic noise that was trying to get out of him.
I was melting under the heat of his attention, having already done too much and touched him too much.
"Your wounds from yesterday, are they healed?" Too afraid to speak up while he had me in such a tight grip, I bowed my head as I stared down at him.
I could practically feel his gaze searing through my garments as his eyes fell on the area he had taken care of yesterday and his lips fell into a straight line.
He had hardly touched me when his hands started to move down from my hips, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I was breathing quickly and shallowly, and I was feeling incredibly frantic. How much more dependent was I going to become if this was how I felt right now without his mark on my body?
As soon as his eyes met mine once more, I knew exactly what question he would pose.
"Can I take a look?" When I noticed how softer he was looking at me, my pulse rate became chaotic, and I would have let him do anything to me at that same moment.
I gave him another nod, and his fingertips touched the area just below my dress's hem. He briefly appeared enthralled with the feeling, tracing the pads of his fingers over my flesh and tormenting me with his touch. I made a mewling sound and embarrassed myself by pulling my hands up to hide my face. His body trembled a little, and when I peered between my fingers, a quiet laugh leaked out of his chest.
Our devoted mate was the object of my wolf's preening, but I was the one who did this.
He enjoyed the way I was responding to him, flicking at the fabric of my dress and leaving his fingers in patterns on the skin of my thighs.
I realized he was making fun of me. Furthermore, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"Your little sounds drive me crazy." Breathing with amazement, he confessed. "Make that sound again." My knees were about to buckle as he begged me.
A startled noise reverberated against my hand, causing him to sigh and close his eyes as though I were serenading him with a charming melody.
He tilted his head back toward the ceiling, and I was shocked to see him expose his neck to me, his throat tightening from the intense desire coursing through him. His eyes were stuck on me, pinned to my hands shielding my face out of sheer shame until he opened them again. He was captivated by my attempt to conceal from him, even if he didn't like it.
He was still holding my thighs with his hands, and as I stood up, he kept looking away from my legs.
His fingers encircled my dress's fabric and pulled it upward. I felt dizzy as his knuckles purposefully scraped my skin. Instead of stopping him, I should have asked for more. I nearly stumbled as his hands skimmed over my panties, his fingers playing with the band. I staggered, my hands finally coming off my face, the strength in my legs wobbling.
"Careful." His fingers pricked my flesh to keep me upright, and his voice was deep.
I watched as his eyes swept over my repaired skin, my heart thudding relentlessly as I raised my hands to his shoulders to steady myself. I shuddered as the pads of his fingers brushed across the memories of his claws being inside me.
Derrick froze as my body curved to embrace him, his fingers soft and then firm.
He pulled me toward him, causing my air to escape my throat as I fell. However, before I could collect myself, his head leaned in the direction of my stomach.
He seemed to be waiting for me to beg him to stop, as his breath felt rough against my skin. Even though I should have known better, I was unable to control myself.
I let out a loud gasp, every muscle in my body tensing as the pleasure raced through me as his lips touched the healing area. I moved to his head, my fingers wrapping around the tufts of silky hair, and I sank into his touch without considering the series of repercussions that would follow. Fuck, I didn't realize his hair would be that soft.
He made a deep, feral-sounding grunt, and I could feel the urge ripping through him. The control was breaking violently, and everything between us felt dense and heavy. The tension was like a building collapsing into rubble.
It was risky.
It was utterly hopeless.
It fulfilled all of our needs.
I waited for him to decide as his lips paused a breath away from my flesh. His longing for me was unfolding alongside my sorrow, and I groaned when his lips found contact with mine once more. With a slowness that alarmed me, his mouth moved around my waist. In addition to his desperation to have me, he also wanted to commit every detail he came into contact with to memory.
I was gasping for air, and every breath I took served as a fleeting reminder that this was real.












