84. Chapter 82
Emery
I’m not even aware that my eyes are closed until Derek pulls back from the kiss and they flutter back open.
We only get a second of staring at each other before my fury overflows again, and I shove at his chest. “Don’t k—”
But he fucking cuts me off with another kiss, this one deeper than the press of his lips onto mine. His arms come around me, pulling me into him, one hand sliding up my back. My blood burns my veins as his tongue sweeps across my lips, parting them like he owns them.
Like I belong to him.
Fuck. No.
I slap my hands against his bare chest and shove us apart. “No, Derek…”
My voice trails off as his fingers slide up my neck and into my hair, slowly tightening until he has a grip strong enough to make my head tip back. The angle he has me in forces me to look at his stupidly gorgeous face.
Swallowing, I glare up at him. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he breathes, leaning down to press our cheeks together, his nose close to my ear as he brushes his stubble against my cheek, which sends a shiver down my spine. “You’re mad at me, you want to hurt me, but you don’t hate me.”
“Yes, I fucking do. You’re a complete fucking asshole.” I enunciate every word through gritted teeth. “You manipulated me every single step of the way. You never let me make any of my own choices. Everything has always been on your terms.”
Derek chuckles as he pulls back, dark chocolatey eyes full of emotions I don’t want to acknowledge. “Baby girl, if you think the last few weeks have been on my terms, you are incredibly mistaken. We have been waiting for you. Waiting for any scraps you were willing to throw our way.”
“Let me go,” I demand, pushing against his chest to try and get more distance, very aware of the way my body is trying to betray me at his proximity.
“Use your safe word,” he goads, eyes hardening and fist clenching tight, sparking little pricks of pain along my scalp.
This time, I curl my hands into fists and hit him in the chest, but with how close we are, the impact is minimal. “I’m serious, Derek. Let me go.”
“That isn’t red, baby girl.” He tugs me even closer until our bodies are pressed so tightly together that I can feel every single hard inch of him.
And I do mean every inch.
My pulse pounds in my ears and my breathing quickens.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I need to get out of here, right now.
Twisting and squirming, I try to break his hold on me, but all it does is rub my entire body against his.
Derek makes a low, rumbly noise as I struggle against him, his arms holding us together so tightly, it’s a little hard to breathe.
Panic spikes in my chest, and I start to fight dirty. With as sudden a jerk as I can manage, I yank my knee up, attempting to hit him where most of his blood has pooled, but he twists to the side a little, and my knee connects with his thigh.
He makes a muffled noise, but then that dark grin from that first weekend appears, and I know I am completely and utterly fucked.
Daddy.
“You’re going to pay for that, baby girl.”
“Please, just let me go,” I plead, throat swelling as my eyes burn with tears. “Please.”
Derek’s arms loosen, and my heart sinks into my stomach. Is he really letting me go?
But no.
He bends his knees and drops his shoulder into my stomach before lifting me up and over his shoulder.
A high-pitched scream leaves me as I tip over his shoulder and come face-to-face with his half-back tattoo. And then, like it’s happening in slow motion, his towel slides down his ass, flopping onto the floor.
And for the first time, my brain finally registers the fact that Derek is not wearing any clothes. That he was wet and irritated when he opened his front door. And now, without the towel…
Naked.
As I have that realization, the room spins as he turns and carries me down the hallway to the bedrooms. My nervous system goes into overdrive, my flight mode fully activating.
I kick my legs out, trying to break his hold, slap and punch his back, and let my mouth run with whatever words it thinks it needs to say to get me out of this situation.
“Fuck off, Derek. You can’t do this. Put me the fuck down, you fucking asshole.
I don’t want this. I don’t want you. You fucking abandoned me.
You left me there, like a goddamn piece of trash on the ground, and then you ignored me.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” I punctuate those last three sentences with twists and arches of my body to break his grip, my body alive with electricity as I try to break free.
There is a very serious second when I think he does lose his hold and that he might actually drop me, but instead, I get a solid smack to my ass that causes heat to spread and stuns me still.
“Baby girl, this is happening, so I suggest you stop running your mouth before your ass can’t cash the checks it’s making.” His voice is low and gravelly, but almost like he has a smile on his face.
We take a sharp turn and enter a bedroom, and just from the dark blue on the walls, I know it’s his personal space.
Before I can get a good look, I’m flipped over and unceremoniously dumped in the middle of his bed.
As quickly as I can manage, I push myself up onto my elbows and shove my hair out of my face, but Derek is already walking away from me, his fucking amazing ass and half-back tattoo on full display.
My mouth falls open when he shuts the door and there is a really loud click.
Did he…did he just lock us in here?
When he turns around, I apparently have no self-control, allowing my eyes to scan down his body, over his pecs, abs, all the way down to his…
“Is there anything you are wearing that you like?”
My gaze snaps back up to his and my brows pull together. “What?”
“Your clothes? I’m going to remove them, so if there is anything you would prefer not to lose in the struggle, I suggest you take them off now. You have until the count of five. One.”
I glance down at myself and then back up at him. Is he serious?
His expression is stone-cold, giving nothing away, and I refuse to look at his dick again, because I have a feeling it’s really enjoying my distress.
“Two.”
Oh, holy shit. He is serious.
This time when I look down, I consider everything I’m wearing. Honestly, even though most of it is new, I have nothing on I’m overly attached to. Except… it is new, and Hudson bought most of it for me when he took me on that shopping spree. That memory is something I’m attached to.
“Three.”
“Fuck,” I mutter and quickly kick off my shoes and then stand on his bed so that I can wrestle with the rest of my clothes.
I manage to somehow get myself caught in my sweater and shirt, with my sweatpants halfway down my legs when I feel warm hands on my ribs, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed.
I stumble forward, unable to see, and land against Derek.
And then I’m relieved of the twisted fabric, hair falling down around my shoulders, scrunchie lost to the mayhem.
Two hazel eyes stare up at me. Those same hands drop my clothes onto the floor, then reach behind me for the clasp of my bra, our chests brushing.
I can’t even remember what set I’m wearing today, not that it matters. He doesn’t even look, just maintains his stare, like there is nothing more important than looking into my eyes. Like he would gladly do it for the rest of his life.
“Four.”
The bra slips from my shoulders, and I help to remove it, throwing it onto the pile. Derek finally looks down, his face lining up with my breasts. His hands come around my ribs until he is able to run his thumbs back and forth over my nipples.
My core pulses with need, and I struggle not to moan. Raising my hands, I place them on his shoulders to steady myself, because I’m suddenly trembling and my knees feel weak.
He pays no attention to any of this. Instead, he leans forward and gently takes one nipple into his mouth, using his teeth to draw it out. When his tongue flicks over the tip, I can’t hold back my gasp as lines of fire streak from where we are connected straight down to my clit.
There is a dark chuckle as he releases that breast and does the same to the other nipple, eliciting the same response.
“Derek, I can’t, please,” I beg, fingers digging into his shoulders as I try to stay upright while he drags out the torture.
He lets go and hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties and takes them and my sweatpants down to my ankles, waiting patiently for me to lift one foot and then the other, then adds them both to the pile.
“Five.”
I am one-hundred-percent positive that he can hear my heart hammering in my chest because I can hear it. What’s going to happen now?
Derek’s hands settle on my hips, and I try to simultaneously clench every single muscle in my body to stop the trembling, but he clearly knows something is up because, those thumbs?
They start drawing circles just inside my hips.
Then the fucking asshole leans forward and brushes the gentlest kiss right between my breasts.
Then another, slightly lower.
And another.
Above my belly button.
Bellow it.
He pauses, looks up at me, and slowly lowers himself onto one knee, then the other.
Derek fucking King, my Daddy, is kneeling at my feet.
Kneeling.
My breathing has turned shallow, and my fingers have slid into his thick brown hair, unable to reach his shoulders.
Not breaking our connection, he leans in and presses another kiss right on top of the waistband indent from my panties.
Then lower again.
“Last chance to use your safe word, baby,” he rumbles, his breath heating my skin.
I bite my bottom lip, brain screaming at me to use my safe word, but my heart really fucking wants this. I’ve missed him so fucking much. All of them.
So, I don’t say anything. I press my lips together, close my eyes, and wait.