Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175: Angry Kisses

Kira shoved against his chest with both hands, but he might as well have been carved from stone.

Derek barely shifted. He simply lifted one hand and planted it flat against the door above her head, trapping her there in the cage of his body, his amber eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something far more dangerous.

"Answer me," he demanded.

Kira let out a chuckle. It was a broken, watery thing, and she blinked as fresh tears slid down her cheeks and dripped off her jaw.

"How can you stand there and demand that from me," she said, her voice trembling with fury and hurt all tangled together, "when you’ve never once given me a reason to?"

"A reason?" Derek’s laugh was cold and short.

But underneath that cold sound, something far less controlled was happening to him.

This woman had wounded him more deeply than he cared to admit, struck him in a place he had spent eight years walling off, and all he could think about...goddess help him, was how badly he wanted to lean down and kiss every one of those tears from her face.

The pull of her was driving him to the edge of his own sanity. The smell of her, the heat of her, the stubborn, glassy defiance in her eyes. It made him want to do something reckless.

"Fuck you, Kira," he bit out.

Before she could respond, he leaned down and crushed his mouth to hers in a furious kiss.

For a single stunned second, Kira went rigid against him, her brain scrambling to catch up to what was happening.

Then it landed, and her chest twisted. This was not a tender kiss. This was not soft, or loving, or anything she had felt from him before. This was a statement. This was a man staking a claim and making a point, all anger and possession and bruised pride.

She found her strength and shoved him off her, hard.

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You can’t even stand me now?" he said, low and cutting. "Is that it? You truly prefer the losers and the goofballs? A man like Brian—"

Kira’s hand flew up to strike him again.

But he caught her wrist mid-air this time. In one swift move he shoved her back against the door, snatched her other wrist as well, and pinned both her hands high above her head, holding them there easily in one of his.

She was completely helpless, trapped by his strength and the intensity of his gaze.

Her whole body was shaking now, sobs breaking loose that she could no longer hold back, racking through her in waves she could not control.

"I hate you," she whispered.

Derek went very still. His eyes bored into hers.

"Say that again," he dared her, his voice rough and low. "Look me in the eyes, Kira, and say it again."

Kira did not.

She could not. She only twisted against his grip, turning her face away from his, choking out, "Let me go. Let me go, Derek."

"How can you see any reason," he ground out, ignoring the plea entirely, "when every time we get close, the only thing on your mind is when this charade of a marriage will finally be over? Is that all this has ever been to you? A performance? Some cheap little act?"

"Yes!" Kira screamed it, thrashing against him, the word ripping out of her raw and furious. "Yes, everything is a performance to me! What else am I supposed to think, Derek?!"

"You stubborn, infuriating woman." His voice cracked somewhere in the middle of it. "You drive me completely out of my mind."

And then, for a long moment, neither of them moved.

They simply stared at one another, suspended there against the door. Kira’s chest heaved against his, her breath coming in ragged gulps, her face streaked and wet.

I can’t tell you the truth yet, Kira, he thought, holding her gaze. Not until I know. Not until I’m certain you won’t take it and use it to gut me.

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