Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 30

Chapter 30: No False Modesty

His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that sent a shiver straight down her spine. It was devoid of all warmth.

Kira swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on a painting on the wall. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet. "I... I need water. I’m thirsty."

"There is no need to leave."

She finally turned, and the breath left her lungs in a sharp gasp. Derek stood there, steam still clinging to his skin. He wore nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his hips. His hair was damp, falling over his forehead in dark, messy clumps. Without the suit, without the armour of his status, he looked even more imposing. His chest was broad, mapped with the faint white lines of old scars and the hard, corded muscle of a predator.

He pointed to a small table near the window. A crystal jug filled with water sat there, alongside a pitcher of dark red juice and two glass tumblers.

"You can have as many glasses as you require," he said, his amber eyes tracking her every movement.

Kira nodded and moved on autopilot. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else as she walked to the table. She poured a glass of water, her hand trembling so much the carafe clinked against the rim. She downed it in three gulps, then immediately poured another. She refused to meet his gaze, concentrating instead on the way the water sloshed against the glass.

.

"Are you suddenly scared of me, Kira?"

The question was blunt and sounded like a challenge. Kira’s pride, the only thing she had left in this life, flared to life. She was Kira. She had survived a pack that hated her and a father who had tried to erase her. She wouldn’t let this Lycan King see her break.

She set the glass down and finally looked him in the eye. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she tilted her chin up until she was looking at him with the same defiance she had used on the very first day they met and talked in her father’s living room.

"I’m not scared of you, Derek," she said, her voice stronger than she expected.

Derek’s lips didn’t curve into a smile, but his eyes darkened, the gold in them swirling like a storm. He took a single step toward her, the scent of him suddenly overwhelming.

"Good," he replied, his voice dropping an octave. "Then let’s get down to business."

Kira didn’t flinch. She matched his gaze, her heart hammering frantically against her ribs. "Yeah. Let’s get down to business."

Derek reached out, stretching his hand toward her, his palm open and inviting yet commanding at the same time.

"Now," he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. "Come and have a bath with me first."

"And I’m up for it," Kira said, her voice coming out huskier than she intended. "Move away so that I can go lie on the bed."

"But you’re not wet," he countered, the words matter-of-fact. "I can’t smell your arousal yet. And unless you want to spend the rest of the week unable to use those legs, I need to get you prepared."

Kira blinked, throat working on a hard swallow. She had never had sex before, but she wasn’t ignorant. She knew arousal was necessary to make it pleasurable instead of painful. At least he was thoughtful enough to consider that. She tore her gaze from his and stared at the steam drifting from the open bathroom door. "I’ll be right behind you."

Without another word, Derek stepped back, turned, and walked toward the ensuite. Kira stood frozen, staring at the broad expanse of his back until he disappeared through the doorway. She sucked in a sharp breath, willing her thundering pulse to slow.

"It’s just sex," she muttered to the empty room. "Everyone has it nowadays."

She exhaled deeply, shoulders dropping. She had known this moment was coming. She had tried to brace herself mentally, though no amount of mental rehearsal could quiet the frantic racing of her heart. The second she had signed that contract, she had accepted his legal right to claim her body for his pleasure and for the heir he demanded. At least he wasn’t proving to be an animal. He hadn’t simply leapt on her, forced her legs apart, and stabbed away. That was a mercy. Far better than the cold, clinical way he had demanded it on their wedding night.

When she finally stepped into the bathroom, Derek was already seated in the deep tub. Jasmine-scented steam swirled thick in the air, curling around his shoulders and chest. Her heart gave one final, hard lurch at the thought of his naked body hidden beneath the water. He watched her approach without blinking, his stare cold as ice, yet everywhere his gaze touched her skin, heat bloomed in its wake.

"I’ll only let you touch me on one condition," Kira said, lifting her chin.