Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Predator and Prey

Kira scrambled into the bedroom, stumbling towards the bed, hugging herself as if to hide the flush still burning across her skin. She sat on the edge of the bed, her damp hair clinging to the silk of her robe. She looked at her hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. Her pulse hadn’t slowed; if anything, it raced harder now that she was alone with the echo of his touch. The place between her thighs still throbbed faintly, slick and sensitive from his fingers, and every small shift of her hips sent a fresh ripple of awareness through her.

She had demanded fidelity, she had stood her ground in the bathroom, but now the reality of the "intercourse meeting" was settling in her gut like lead. He wasn’t just a King or a contract partner anymore; he was a man who knew exactly how to make her sob with a single finger.

Derek emerged from the bathroom minutes later, a fresh towel slung loosely around his neck. He didn’t look at her at first. He walked to the small table, poured a glass of that dark juice, and drank it in silence. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and Kira’s own shallow breathing. When he finally turned, his amber eyes settled on her where she sat huddled on the edge of the bed. They were dark and hungry, as if he were staring at his favourite meal and had forgotten he was supposed to be on a diet.

"The bed is large enough for both of us, Kira. You don’t need to cling to the edge like you’re planning to bolt."

Kira didn’t move. "I’m not bolting. I’m waiting." She tried to sound like a boss even though her insides were doing backflips.

"Then wait lying on the bed."

It wasn’t a suggestion. Kira’s fingers fumbled with the tie of her robe; she let the silk fall open and slid it off her shoulders, then eased herself back onto the mattress. She lay flat, arms at her sides, bracing herself for whatever came next.

Derek didn’t move at first. He just stared with those amber eyes of his, looking at her with an intensity that made her skin feel as if it were on fire. When his gaze dropped lower to the soft curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the shadowed place between her thighs, her fragile bravado crumbled. She reached instinctively for the duvet, trying to cover herself.

"Don’t!"

The growl vibrated right through the mattress and made her fingers lock up. He took a step toward the bed, and her eye, completely betraying her, landed right on the front of his towel. There was a very large, very obvious problem developing down there. Her mouth went dry instantly, and she had to lick her lips just to breathe. The bulge actually twitched, and she thought her brain had just melted. She was supposed to be mad at him, but her body was currently voting for "team melt-into-the-bed."

He walked toward the foot of the bed with that slow, predator-on-the-prowl grace. "Why hide yourself now?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Another sharp throb pulsed between her thighs in answer.

He towered over the bed, looking down at her as if he were deciding which part to eat first. He leaned in, his eyes pinning her to the spot. "Ashamed for your husband to see you naked? Or just realising you actually aren’t as brave as you try to portray?"

Kira swallowed hard, lifted her chin, and clung to stubborn pride like a lifeline. "I’m not afraid of you. I’ve said that before. I already know what I signed up for."

"Do you?"

He did not wait for an answer. His hands moved to the towel knotted at his waist; he untied it without rushing, eyes never leaving hers. When the towel fell away, Kira fought the urge to look away, but she couldn’t. He stood there in his raw, naked Lycan glory, and she forgot how to breathe.

He was huge. Every inch of him screamed power, broad shoulders, corded arms, the deep V of muscle arrowing downward, and especially the part that was standing at full attention, ready to stake its claim.

The mattress groaned under his weight as he climbed onto the bed, and she had to dig deep for every bit of stubbornness not to scoot away. He crawled toward her on all fours, like a big cat stalking a very small, very naked dinner.

He loomed over her, caging her in with those powerful arms braced on either side of her head. He was so close that she could feel his breath, cool mint, tickling her lips. Her own breathing turned into short, messy pants. Her heart banged like it was trying to escape her ribs, and she was sure he heard it. She leaned back a little. He followed until she was flat on the mattress and he was over her, heat pouring off him like a bonfire, enveloping her, and making her head spin. She closed her eyes, bracing for whatever came next.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify