Chapter 16
I haven’t talked to Derren for a few days; in all honesty, I’ve been giving him space.
After the epic fail of a date and being abandoned, then waking up in bed with Killian—only to end up wrapped around Killian again on his sofa—in quick succession, was a little close for comfort.
So, I’ve been doing the grown-up thing and avoiding him.
Finally breaking my silence, I messaged Derren earlier, inviting him over. I thought getting him here alone would give us the chance to talk without his mates and see if we can sort out whatever went wrong and how we keep miscommunicating. I need to try harder.
I pace back and forth. To say I’m stressed is an understatement. I don’t know why, but this needs to be an apology. So, I’m cooking for him, hoping we can actually talk and get on the same page. Right now, I don’t even think we’re in the same book.
Derren was pissed that Killian was here, and I know I crossed a line having him in my bed, but he’s my safe space. My protector. I will always have a connection with him. He’s… family. My nose wrinkles at the thought.
But at his place on the sofa, and the way my body reacted to him, I know I crossed a line, and I feel guilty, like I cheated or something.
Maybe, emotionally, I did. But it’s all in my head, it’s all so one-sided, and it’s obstructing my relationship with Derren.
Now I realise this, it will help me keep a boundary with Killian and ensure everything stays platonic.
I clean and cook. My bedding has been washed, and the bed has been made. I couldn’t risk him going into my room and smelling Killian on my sheets; his scent is heady, inexplicably him. It’s unique. Like him, really.
The doorbell rings, and the pounding on the door follows.
Nerves rush through me as I toss the tea towel on the side.
I blow out a breath and walk towards the front of the house, my hands sweating as I tentatively open the door.
My gaze is trained on the floor for a second before I look up to Derren’s disapproving glare.
Guilt immediately washes over me. Overwhelming me completely.
He steps closer. Staring at me, his hand slides up my cheek.
It feels tender. But he grips my chin, tugging me towards him and crashes our mouths together.
His grip tightens, and he bites down on my lip.
His arm snakes around me, grabbing my ass and yanking me to him.
My body slams against his, and my hands come up to his chest. The heat of his body spreads through my fingers as they splay across his pecs.
My body sags against his as I lean into the kiss, only to stumble as he pulls back.
“Next time I say I’m coming, you will let me in.” His glare darkens as his eyes roam my face.
I swallow hard. My breathing is fast, and my skin tingles as I stare at him, nodding slightly before he pushes past me and heads to the bottom of the stairs. He turns to face me with one hand on the bannister.
“If I see him near you again, there will be trouble.”
I try to argue, but he quickly steps toward me.
Instinctively, I flinch back. But he snatches at my wrist, pulling me towards him, crashing his lips against mine again, his tongue thrusting into my mouth.
His breath forces its way into my senses; he’s aggressive and possessive as he holds me.
I relax and lean into the kiss. A whimper stutters out from my lips, and my knees want to buckle. He pulls away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, wanting to fix it, wanting to erase the anger rolling off him. “I’m sorry, Derren.” My words are so quiet, I barely hear them myself. His grip tightens on my face as he forces my chin up. My eyes tentatively meet his.
“You are mine. You will have nothing else to do with him, you hear me?” The curl of his lip makes me startle back.
“But… D”
“I mean it!” His voice rises into a snarl, and the pure hatred on his face makes me flinch. I nod because what else can I do? “Did you cook?”
“What?” My shocked gaze flicks to his at the sudden change in his attitude.
“It smells good.” He leans in and kisses me so gently. My body reacts, longing for his caress. His tongue slides over mine, and his grip on my face relaxes, and he strokes across my neck, making me shudder.
His smirk settles against my lips as his tongue slides across mine. I wrap my arms around him, and he holds me tight. “Dinner,” he whispers to me. I blink at him, and then realise what he said.
“Yes, dinner.” I pull back, and he takes my hand, and I lead him into the kitchen.
He pulls out a chair and sits at the table.
His gaze follows me around the kitchen for a second before he pulls out his phone; he stares at it, ignoring me as I clatter with the pans and serve up the food.
I take a plate to Steven, so I can be alone with Derren.
He finally puts his phone down when I slide the plate in front of him.
I sit opposite him, and he doesn’t even look up at me.
He snatches the fork and starts shovelling it into his mouth.
“This is good, baby,” he growls around his mouthful of food.
He barely comes up for breath. I sit and look at him, really look at him.
I don’t understand why he wants me. My appetite has all but vanished as I push my food around the plate, taking the odd mouthful, but it tastes like ash.
Derren grunts and shovels food into his mouth, barely acknowledging me.
His gaze never drifts to mine until his plate is empty.
He tosses the fork onto the table. It clatters when he pushes the plate away from him.
He leans back and rubs his stomach, groaning at how full he is.
I just stare at him. The way he looks at me, I don’t know what it is, but I want to do everything I can to make him happy, constantly needing to seek his approval.
“Baby? Did you hear me?”
I flick my gaze to his. What was he saying?
I gaze at him, confused. He stands, pushing away from the chair as he reaches for me.
I look up at him, but I take his hand. His thumb brushes over the back of mine, and I frown at it.
It’s gentle. It’s not how he normally touches me.
That element of aggression that curls my toes and spikes my heart rate is missing.
This gentle touch, the way he’s looking at me, is softer, and I feel warm and fuzzy. He smiles at me.
“Let’s talk.”
I smile. Talk, yes. I want to. I want to know him. I want to know more. Maybe this is the real Derren.
He pulls me from the kitchen towards the stairs.
At the bottom, he smiles at me as he leads me up them.
When we’re in my room, he pulls me forward, clicking the door closed gently behind him.
He steps up to me, his touch tender. His smile is soft.
His eyes sparkle, and the intense way he’s looking at me makes my breath hitch.
“I’m falling for you, Scott.” His hand slides up my face, he slips my glasses off and tosses them on the dresser, and his thumb strokes across my cheek.
“You really are special.” His smile is pure, and my heart pounds.
He licks his lips, one hand on my face, and his other grips the front of my trousers, pulling me closer to him.
My hands automatically slide over his chest. His caress gravitates around to my ass cheek, and he yanks me tight against him.
“I want you,” he breathes out across my lips.
“I fucking need you.” Gently kissing me, his tongue licks across my bottom lip.
I want that to be true so much. I just want someone to want me for me.
My eyes stare at him, confusion rushes through me mixed with adrenaline and excitement from his touch and his words.
He brushes a thumb over my bottom lip. “I need these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” He nips at my lip, and my heart flutters, and my skin tingles.
His hands leave my body as he continues to kiss me seductively, and I whine.
He pulls his dick free from his pants, pulling back from me slightly and pushes them down to his ankles.
“Look how hard you have me, baby. You’re the only one who has ever made me feel like this.
I’m out of control when you’re near me. When you touch me, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
” I grin up at him. “Please, baby, please. I need your lips on me.” His pleading tone makes me feel like I’m on drugs, powerful, having a man like him beg for me.
Longing to make him happy, to please him, I smile, dropping to my knees, staring up at him.
His hand clamps on my shoulder as I slowly slide one hand over his thigh, and my other hand up around his shaft.
Licking from base to tip, my stare never leaves his, and he shudders.
“Oh, God, baby.” His grip slides into my hair, and he gently cups the back of my head.
He thrusts his hips, and I smirk. I feel drunk, overcome with emotion.
It could be him. He wants me. He could be my future.
I lick up his length again and wrap my tongue around his tip before I plunge his dick into my mouth, taking him all the way to the back of my throat.
His body jolts, and his hands jerk to my shoulders as he doubles over me.
“Oh, fuck,” he stutters out. And I grin around his dick.
His hips thrust, and his thumbs dig into my shoulders harder as he leans on me.
His thighs tense as he bucks against me.
I stare up at him, his eyes are screwed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, and I lap, suck and slide my teeth against his dick as I give my everything to pleasuring him.
Derren mewls, his body going rigid, his hips stutter in their rhythm, and he spills in my mouth as I try to pull back.
His hand slides to the back of my head, holding me still.
“Take it all, baby. Every drop is for you.”
I swallow and suck before pulling back, sitting on my heels as he stares down at me.