Attraction: (A Temptation Series Stand-alone) (The Temptation Series Book 4) (28 page)

‘Leave it in,’ he said harshly as his stare raked my body
and inflamed the room.

My hands froze on the elastic band.

Derek slowly stood up and prowled toward me while taking off
his jacket. The raw, vehemently hungry expression on his face had me taking
backward steps until I was pressed against my wall.

He stopped, his tall robust frame towering above me. And
with both hands, he grasped my singlet top and tore it right down the middle.
‘I like pissed off, baby, because I can still fuck when I’m pissed off.’

Firmly grabbing my chin with his hand, he squished my cheeks
before planting a forceful kiss on my lips.

I pulled back and slapped him across the face — hard.
‘Derek! You just fucking ripped my top, you arrogant prick.’

Annoyed — but extremely aroused by his heated aggression — I
pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed my G-string and
tore that from me as well, leaving me standing there with ripped shreds of
material hanging from my body.

‘Stop it!’ I yelled and went to slap him again.

Derek caught my wrist and his eyes blared sexual filth at
me, sexual filth that had me suddenly feeling desperately dirty.
Oh ... my.

‘You want to play rough?’ he asked, a hint of excitement
breaking across his face.

‘No. I don’t want to play at all,’ I said through gritted
teeth, trying not to smile.

‘I think you do.’

I leaned forward getting right up into his face. ‘You are
wrong.’

Derek dropped his other hand and plunged his finger into my
pussy, the swift intrusion surprising me and making me gasp.

He slid it in and out a couple of times, teasing me before
he pulled it out completely. Then, bringing it up to my face, he wiped my
arousal across my lips. ‘Clearly, I am not wrong.’

‘Clearly, you’re an arsehole,’ I countered, licking my lips.

Derek inwardly growled and mashed his mouth to mine, kissing
me passionately and lifting me up into his arms. I instantly wrapped my legs
around his waist and ran my hand up the back of his head, digging my nails in
hard with intent to punish.

‘Fuck,’ he roared while carrying me over to the bed and
dropping me down on the mattress. ‘Hands and knees,’ he demanded. His tone was
severe but also held a gentle caress, a promise that what I was about to
experience would be a mixture of sensuality and ferocity.

I stared at him for a minute, his return gaze equally as
fierce. Our battle of wills were pouring from the both of us and circling the
air with crackling anticipation, our reactive chemical ‘Dc’ in full effect.

As I sat there debating his request and wondering whether or
not to comply, I realised that today had been a day where I had freely — yet
reluctantly — relinquished my control. I had stepped out from within my bubble
of security and
trusted
him. I had let go ... and enjoyed it.

Deciding to continue that theme, I turned over and
positioned myself on my hands and knees, baring my arse to him.

‘Mm ... good girl,’ he praised as he stepped up behind me.

‘Don’t fucking “good girl” me,’ I bit out harshly, snapping
my head around to fix him with my warning glare.

The loud, sharp sting of his hand connecting with my arse
made me yelp, shocking me into silence. It also excited me no end.
Ooh, Mr
Spanky Spankster with his big hose. Hello, Carly’s wet dream.

Feeling the confines of my bra loosen as he unclipped it and
pushed the straps down my shoulders, my breasts hung freely and heavily before
me.

Derek leaned over and cupped one aggressively before whispering
into my ear. ‘I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby. I hope you are ready.’

I heard the zipper of his jeans undo and felt his warm hard
cock land with a light thud on my arse. The sensation and knowledge that he was
almost inside me resulted in my back arching ever so slightly, my pussy now
primed and waiting for his penetration.

The gentle tease and tickle of his fingertip as he slid it
down the crevice of my arse made me shudder. But it was when he stopped its
descent and slowly circled the entrance of my pussy before replacing with it
the crown of his dick that had me quivering with delighted anticipation.

Derek eased himself in slowly, forcing a shallow moan to
escape my throat. The feeling of him filling me completely was beyond wonderful
— the man had a cock that touched all extremities.

Suddenly, my head was jerked back and an uncomfortable yet
tantalising ache formed on my scalp.

‘Oh fuck!’ I cried out, my braid now wrapped around Derek’s
hand, my body now at his complete mercy.

Sounds of skin slapping skin soon dominated the room as
Derek pounded my flesh with his own. His thrusts were hard, fast, relentless
and brutal, and I fucking loved every second of it.

‘Is that ... the ... best you can ... do?’ I stuttered as my
voice jerked with my body’s movements.

‘Not ... even ... fucking close,’ he growled as he pistoned
into me continuously. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Oh, my fucking GOD!
The man was a machine, a
relentless sexual engine running on endless fuel.

‘Stomach,’ he growled and secured both my arms to my back
when I fell forward at his command.

Being restrained and completely helpless would normally have
me feeling highly distressed, but slave to Derek’s every control and whim was
far from that regular feeling. Submitting to him just felt ... right.

His unyielding rhythm, the friction from his cock
deliciously gliding against the walls of my pussy, and the sounds of sex
hanging heavily in the air in the form of moaning, grunting and heavy
breathing, all combined exquisitely to bring my orgasm screaming out of me. ‘Oh
... god!’

Derek, too, erupted like a volcano, spilling into me, over
me and consuming everything within and around me. ‘Fuck, baby,’ he groaned
passionately as he collapsed onto my back.

His damp heavy frame stole whatever skerrick of energy I had
left, rendering me limp. I was spent, taken, consumed and owned. I was
absolutely fucked.

Derek and I fell asleep in a tangle of sweat-dampened limbs.
His body engulfed mine, owned it ... he made me feel safe. My body was now his
and not my own. Carly Henkley was no longer free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A couple of months went by and, during that time, Derek and
I grew closer. Much closer. It was kind of weird in a non-weird kind of way.
You see, the progression of our relationship happened naturally, which — for
me — was just ... well, weird. Now don’t get me wrong, what Derek and I shared
was not always unicorns and rainbows. Most of the time it was Shetland ponies
and shit-storms. But that was who we were. We fought each other, challenged
each other and set each other straight. We comforted each other, complemented
each other and drove one another insane. One thing for sure, Derek had been
right ... he and I just ‘are’.

We’d spent Christmas Eve with my parents. I’d even cooked.
But it was nothing fancy. It also ended up being inedible. Derek was forced to
show me his firefighting skills firsthand when I smoked out the kitchen and
burnt the potatoes to the point where they resembled gorilla testicles. And not
being one to want to eat food that looked like animal genitals, they were
inevitably thrown away. I did, however — as a result — get to admire Derek in
firefighter mode. And damn, the man was good at dousing fires. Needless to say,
we ended up having to make an emergency dash to the local.

Red Rooster in order to pick up another cooked chook and
some roast vegetables, reiterating another of Carly’s Cardinals: thank fuck for
takeaway.

Mum and Dad had been big fans of Derek, and what I thought
would be a nightmarish and awkward occasion turned out to be relaxed and
successful ... with exception of nearly burning down my house.

Dad had been non-stop with questions about the MFB and Mum
was abnormally bubbly and attentive. In the past, my parents had never been
that interested in my romantic life; then again, I’d never allowed it to be a
topic of discussion. In hindsight, it was as if at one point we’d made a silent
agreement not to mention who I dated and when. So I guess that introducing
Derek to my parents, and in particular on Christmas day, was a novelty. It was
also a huge step for me and one I’m glad I made.

In the lead up to Christmas, I’d asked Derek if he had wanted
to fly to Sydney to see his parents, even offering to go along with him. But he
had been dead against that idea, saying, ‘I only go and see them if it’s an
emergency, Carly.’ I’d replied with, ‘You can’t choose your family,’ to which
he responded, ‘No, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with their fucking
bullshit. Family will hurt you the most if you are not careful. They share the
same blood, so they know how to make you bleed.’ He’d then gotten angry and,
for the first time in our relationship, I could see the pain he harboured where
his family was concerned. I let it go after that, although it was definitely
something I wanted to revisit. Family were unalterable, no matter how much we
wished that were not the case at times.

One month had now passed since Christmas and nothing further
had been said. I was not normally one to try and fix people or push onto them
their damaged issues. People have to want to fix themselves and their broken
surroundings before someone can assist them with it. If they didn’t, repairs
could not truly be made. That said, I found myself desperate to fix Derek’s
broken relationship with his family. I could tell the rift tore him apart, and
to bear witness to that was killing me. It literally hurt my chest.

‘Carly! Hurry the fuck up. We gotta go,’ Derek bellowed from
the lounge room.

Lucy had rung Derek a couple of days ago, explaining that
Bryce and Alexis had gotten engaged during their trip to Italy and, as a
surprise, she wanted to organise an impromptu engagement party and afternoon
tea for when they arrived home.

Personally, I thought it was a shit idea. Knowing Alexis,
she’d want nothing more than to take it easy and recover from jet lag so that
she could be fresh and lively for when she saw Nate and Charlotte the following
day. Coming home and hosting an apartment full of friends and family? I was
fairly sure she’d hate it.

However, I’d learned very quickly that Lucy was a force to
be reckoned with. Lucy, like her brother Bryce, got what she wanted. She was
also very kind, sweet and highly knowledgeable. Without intending to, she
intimidated me ... which never happened. I only ever felt what
I
wanted
to feel. Nobody could force me otherwise. It was the one thing in life I
controlled solely.

I had my iPod switched to random while in the bathroom doing
my hair and make-up. Singing the lyrics to ‘Sexual Healing’ by Marvin Gaye, I
ignored Derek’s hassling from the other room. We had plenty of time. My make-up
was complete and I just needed my lippy.

I stretched and opened the mirrored cabinet door in my bathroom.
A couple of near-empty bottles of lotion fell out like they always did and,
rather than throwing them away, I put them back in and dug deeper for my MAC
Everyday Diva red lipstick while swaying my hips to Marvin’s sexy song.

‘Got it!’ I said to myself with a victorious holler as I
spotted the holy grail of lip wear and, twisting the lid off, started applying
it to my lips as I closed the cabinet door.

‘Jesus!’ I yelled, startled by Derek’s sudden appearance
behind me. The shock of seeing him made me smear the lippy on my cheek. ‘Now
look what you’ve done!’

Derek chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry,
here, I’ll help you,’ he said, grabbing the face washer and lifting it to my
face.

‘Back the fuck off!’ I warned. ‘Oh my god, you don’t just
wipe this with a damp face washer!’ I said incredulously, pointing to the
canvas that was my made-up face.

Stomping out of the bathroom, I retrieved my handbag and dug
out my make-up remover tips. They were the one and only thing that could fix
this epic disaster; they were my saving grace. ‘Face washer? He’s got to be
kidding me.’

As I approached the bathroom again, I could hear Derek
singing ‘Sexual Healing,’ which stopped me in my tracks.
Well, fuck me
lyrically.
My lower abdominal muscles together with the walls of my pussy
clenched at the sound of his verbal sensuality. Yes, they clenched ... just
like that.

Hearing him sing that song was akin to my ears climaxing joyously,
his voice as smooth as a silk scarf ... a baby’s bottom ... a pane of fucking
glass. And when the word
sexual
rolled from his mouth, I swear I almost
rolled on the floor.

Being the happy voyeur that I was, I sleuthed my way closer
to the door and snuck a little peek. Derek was resting his arse against the
bathroom basin and fiddling with his phone. He had on a pair of dark denim
jeans, black boots, white tee and his black leather jacket — the one he wore to
Alexis’ birthday party. He looked absolutely irresistible ... like pie with
cream.

I stared at his mouth, taking pleasure in the way his lips
were moving at a slow sensual pace, releasing melody and blessing me with
intermittent glimpses of his silky soft tongue. I wanted to drink the words he
sang; take them from his mouth with my own in a gentle kiss.
Who am I
kidding? Gentle kiss my arse. I want to suck them right out of his mouth in a
frenzied Carly-style attack.

My sights slowly skated down his chin, stopping at his neck
while it throbbed and tensed in creating song. I wanted to touch it, bite it and
lick it all over.

At the request of getting up and making love tonight, I got
an idea.

I grabbed the mint flavoured oral gel we’d bought at
Sexyland from the top drawer of my dresser and put it in the back pocket of my
jeans. I then stepped into the bathroom.