Chapter 89

Chapter 89

He hissed, "I can smell it on you." "I notice the oil dripping down your legs and leaving stains on my bed linens. Kylie, please lie to me once more so that I can demonstrate my abilities to you." I felt myself giving in to him as I closed my eyes and reveled in his intimacy.

Derrick was trying to see if I could give in to the fickle emotion of lust, which had the power to strip you of any morality when it came to that.

"Were you touching yourself?" He asked again, a less demanding question this time.

He was also succumbing to lust, his need for me to crash between us in mighty waves, and his hunger for me, which was fierce and overwhelming. He was staring down at me, considering the repercussions of a truth and a lie, and I was a tied-up cord of contradictions and conflicts.

Though his future with me was so uncertain, I couldn't let him lose himself in me as much as I wanted to give in to him.

"Yes." His hand on my thigh tightened, and I took a deep breath.

"If you needed me, all you had to do was ask." He spoke in a rough, gruff tone that made me shudder.

I was aware that I was pushing him and that what I said next would determine our mutual course of action.

"I didn't ask because I knew I didn't need you." I exhaled, attempting to hold on to what little sense I still had.

My response made Derrick stop; he didn't like my disobedience, but his wolf wanted to take on the task and make me feel inferior. The thing that scared me the most was how open he was to giving in to his demands, and I questioned whether he could see straight through my facade.

My loud whimper made it clear how much I wanted him, and he withdrew from me, the warmth of his body vanishing. Upon hearing the sound, Derrick shifted his position in the room, gritting his teeth and moving an expensive armchair to the foot of the bed.

He sat down in front of me, leaning into the chair with his elbows resting on its arms, and I could feel my heart pounding. I rubbed my thighs together in misery as my core throbbed at the sight of him.

His eyes were fixed on my body, observing every little motion. Every deliberate glance I took set me on fire, my insides contorting and my inner wolf growling.

I enjoyed the way I was being perceived—almost as food for thought.

"You can have it your way, my courageous little mate, but I'm going to sit here and watch you." My lips dropped open as his words raced through my mind.

I was so shocked and ashamed by his words that I was unable to keep his look any longer. It was a terrible kind of enjoyment. Was I supposed to think he would be able to control himself when all he wanted to do was watch me while I enjoyed thinking about him?

"I'm not going to put on a show for you." He hummed, and I could feel my nerve ends tingling.

His words faded as he shifted in his seat, and my gaze dropped on his lap. "This is as excruciating for me as it is for you; my need for you is," he said, realizing that I had to find a release or it would swallow me. Nothing about his concealed erection could be guessed at, at least not from the moment I held it last night.

Once more, I could feel myself leaking, and he growled angrily.

I moved my hand again, this time between my legs, with a salacious will and a sad heart. I moved my robe aside and pressed my palm to my soaked core, and his heart rate shot through the roof. He watched my fingers go down into the well and moaned.

"Look at me." His instruction captured my attention as he made a husky demand.

As I had anticipated, he was struggling more than I was, his hands tightly clutching the armrests as if they were the only thing keeping him from lunging at me.

This was too risky, but I still went ahead.

As I watched him lean forward in his seat, I felt a trembling breath take hold of me. Thinking of him and having him in front of me was a conflict of desires. I was getting even more sexy as I saw him struggling with his urges and being confined to his chair. Once more, my fingertips moved in time with his labored breathing.

"That's it, angel—feel how much your body craves to have me inside of you." A small, simpering gasp escaped my lips as he moaned.

"Do you think your fingers will stop the ache?" I gave a deep gasp as I felt his words with my finger, and he gave a meek growl in response—that was the beginning of his downfall.

He seemed to break the chair under his palms, and I stopped cold.

"Fuck, don't stop. I believe you have the ability to take another finger. The last time, you took three of mine." As I obeyed his instructions, I whimpered in response to his darker, deeper voice.

I could feel the sensation taking hold of my stomach as it sparked inside of me. My back had curved away from the bed, my hands had begun to quiver, and my breathing had become shallower.

"Derrick, I have to; I can't.

I closed my eyes in the hopes that it would help me come back to earth.Please keep your eyes open and stare at me as you approach. I sighed and shook my head, but he was following me around once more.

I felt his hand on my face, his fingers tightening on my chin as my eyes slowly opened and closed once more.

"Look at me." I was a crying mess, but I followed instructions to be a "good girl." My fingers made their way in and out of me, building to a satisfying climax.

I let out a loud cry of release as it surged through me, and then I fell blissfully onto the bed, dragging him down with me. My mind was foggy, and I was panting as my back pressed into the mattress, and my vision became fuzzy.

He leaned in to give me a forceful kiss while his possessive growl encircled me. I cried out against his lips and closed my eyes once again, savoring the feelings that followed.

As his hands followed the contours of my body, he pulled my hand into his, causing my eyes to pop wide as he brought my lips to his. He worked his tongue over them while tenderly kissing them, extracting any remaining traces of my actions from my flesh.

Once more, desire clouded my vision.

"What were you thinking of when your fingers were inside of you?" I pressed my thighs together, breathing hard.

"You know exactly what I was thinking of." My remarks were barely audible as I was beginning to lose my energy.

"You told me you didn't need me, so I want you to say it."

As soon as I took him in, my heart stopped beating because he was insecure, furious, and dissatisfied.

I firmly said, "I was thinking of you," not wanting to offend him.

"Good." He inhaled deeply before he began to move once again, removing the blanket from under me and covering my body.

"You should get some rest; I know you didn't sleep well last night." And he left the room once more.

I wanted to tell him to stay, but after turning him down the night before, how could I say no? In any case, before I could protest his departure or refuse to waste any more time, my eyes were dropping shut. My chest was getting smaller, and my fantasies were consuming me in a different way.