‘I want the K’
10. Neck Kiss
Derek never made it a habit to go around kissing strangers. In fact, he never really went around doing much that didn’t have anything to do with his art. So how Laura’d convinced him to come out with her and a few of her friends, he really didn’t understand it. If he’d had it his way, he’d have stayed locked up in his loft or, at the most, up on the rooftop of the apartment building, supplies in hand as he painted another piece that would be hidden away from the rest of the world, too personal—-too private—-to be seen by anyone but his alpha.
He was in the middle of another project, one that would eventually be a gift to his sister. It was a painting of their family, back before the fire wiped almost everyone out, shifted into wolves on the night of the full moon, heads tipped back and howling. The more he thought about the work, the more he itched to finish it, to pick up his brush, mix the different paints to get the right shade of grey for Michael’s fur or the tawny color of his father’s coat, to watch as the picture bleed and came to life before his eyes, under his hands, and around him in his lonely place.
It was the itch that drove him to drinking in the first place. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get drunk on the stuff, but the burn of the whiskey as it went down was enough to distract him, to calm his frayed nerves. It grounded him in ways that nothing else besides from painting or sculpting ever really could. And it was the drink that drove him to socializing with the stranger.
She was gorgeous, he would admit. Aesthetically pleasing to the eye, definitely easy to talk to, especially for one as socially reclusive as him, and genuinely enjoyable company, unlike Laura’s coworkers and friends.
But how that all added up to them in the middle of a darkened alleyway that only had one flickering streetlamp to give them any light in New York City at this time of night, he didn’t know.
Hands gripping her hips, he rubbed his cheek against her pulse, enjoying the feel of his stubble dragging against the sensitive skin. Derek knew that most didn’t enjoy the feel of stubble rubbing against them, and so to make up for allowing his inner ‘wolf out enough to satisfy its need to mark the woman, he pressed a gentle kiss to the spot he’d just marked. He didn’t stop there, either. No, he continued to pepper a trail of kisses along the curve of her neck, down the bend and all the way to the hollow base of her throat. Eyes flicking up to meet her hooded gaze, he gave her a wicked smirk before flicking his tongue out, wanting to taste her, to see if she actually tasted as good as she smelt. And she did. Hearing the gasp that fell from her lips, his smirk grew, and he continued to kiss along her throat, making sure that he left her with a lasting memory of this strange night.
