Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Felix made another error and turned to face me again as I noticed Derrick's respiration had changed since I was now standing directly next to him.
"Tell him that I didn't really touch you—
My companion was moving before I even realized what was going on, so I frantically tried to get a grip on him. With his remaining hand around Felix's throat, Derrick twisted his fist against his shirt and lunged at Felix, sending the flowers flying to the floor in a flutter.
My capacity for rational thought had vanished, and breathing was not far behind. I could feel the hot pulse of his terrible urge to possess and defend me pulsing between my knees, and I knew I had to get myself under control before Derrick's senses cleared from the anger he felt.
"Did I say you could fucking look at her?" I suppressed the moan at the base of my throat because I was getting too worked up about it and felt horrible about my selfishness.
I wanted nothing more than to put my fingers between my legs, as Derrick's wolf was on the verge of losing control. I blew out a trembling breath, reaching for the fabric of my dress at my waist. I was up against a wall once more, and I was losing it.
He appeared to be nearly ready to kill the man he was holding, and I felt like a volcano about to erupt.
Even though my voice was a quivering mess, "Derrick" managed to catch his attention. I straightened up as he peered at me, his gaze narrowing. "Leave him alone; he's not worth it."
Felix appeared to believe he had the advantage because of my attention, so he launched the initial blow while my companion was concentrating on me.
I let out a jumbled gasp, and Derrick staggered, his hold on the man mainly releasing from shock. Though the blow had hardly affected him at all, I felt more hurt because I knew I was to blame.
Derrick turned purposefully and let forth an unrestrained snarl. His blow to Felix was far more potent, but even though I thought he would lose the composure he was holding on to, it was too controlled and precise. Even in situations where it shouldn't have been, his wolf's wildness was restrained. With a swift uppercut that left his nose bleeding and his jaw bruised, he knocked him unconscious with a single blow.
He watched Felix crumple to the ground at his feet, and his knuckles were smeared with blood. I took a deep breath, and he growled in frustration. Now that he was facing me, I could see his muscles twitching beneath his jacket as he took his phone out of his pocket.
He paused to take in whatever was being said on the other side: "Morgan, I have a mess for you to clean up," but I was too distracted to pay attention. "I don't want him staying at his apartment after tonight; I'll send you the address." I saw him sigh deeply and stop the conversation, and I pressed my thighs closer together. He typed quickly on his phone, moving his arms purposefully, and then noted my presence.
My heart stopped working when he turned to face me and met my eyes for a split second.
His hair was tangle on top of his head instead of slicked back, serving as a demonstration of how he had become protective of me. I had never found someone as appealing as he did, with the blood on his knuckles, the creases in his shirt, and the uneven tie.
He walked a few steps in my direction, straightened his body, bent over, and collected the bouquet of flowers from the ground. He handed me the tatty flowers, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his face—he didn't seem even somewhat angry at me—and I had to know what was going through his mind.
"That wasn't my fault." He seemed to find my statements amusing as he exhaled deeply through his nose, but he remained silent, which only made my confusion worse.
My hands spontaneously moved to fix out his bowtie and then brushed his jaw, where Felix had managed to get his hit in. I brushed the material shakily between my fingers, but Derrick didn't seem to notice that I was anxious. With a swift movement, his own hands reached my waist and drew me against his chest, crushing the arrangement of flowers between our bodies. I laughed uncontrollably, the sound resonating between us.
It seemed like neither I nor these poor flowers could get a break.
Before I could finish speaking, his kiss was on mine as his hand slid to my face and his thumb brushed against my jaw. The way he was claiming my lips should have horrified me, but all I could think about was getting into his touch.
I positioned one hand against his chest and the other around his arm to steady myself against his body. His needs translated into tiny sighs that were like liquid heat that ignited a fire inside of me as he kissed me more intensely and drew me in.
Before he released his lips from mine, it seemed like hours, and I nearly fell to the ground when he gave me that all-consuming glance.
"I've got you." His lips soiled with the taste of me, his eyes shining with the pleasure he had brought me, he whispered.
My magical energy had returned, and it seemed to be connected to the closeness Derrick and I had. It was like fuel that was ignited by our lips. I was uncomfortable because it felt like he had taken a piece of my soul and replaced it with whatever this emotion was. I leaned against the wall as hard as I could and looked up at him, amazed.
Despite his apparent dislike for witch-blood wolves, he appeared to have the secret to my magic.
Something was slithering in my bloodstream, tearing me apart and demanding to be let go. I could feel the electricity coursing through my entire body. My claws were outstretched once again as I attempted to gather myself by gazing into the erratic shade of his eyes. They were rapidly shifting from his wolf to his human form as I struggled to find a way to breathe.
"This dress is dangerous on you, and so is that look in your eyes." He smiled as he noticed the reddening of my cheeks.
He gave my cheeks a quick stroke with the back of his bloodless hand before turning to look at my clothes. With a lustful sigh, he slid his hands to the corners of my body, and then his eyes fell on the slit that was against my thigh. He watched, his whole body immobile, and I writhed under the heat of his focus.












