Derek Hale Shirtless Novels & Stories

He reached for his clothes and began to remove them. “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to think about this first?” Fighter asked, whispering into Derek’s ear. “We should do as he says. It’s not like we have any superpowers we can boast of. Let’s find out,” Derek responded in a whisper, and Fighter nodded reluctantly. He also reached for his clothes and began to remove them. “So what next?” Derek asked after he was done stripping. He was totally naked in front of Noah—and so was Fighter. “Now, close your eyes and think of something. A memory that would trigger your emotions.

I opened it to find Derek standing on my porch, looking more handsome than I had ever seen him before. He was wearing a simple white shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled chest. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing his toned forearms, and the collar was open, showing off his strong neck. His hair was perfectly messy, and his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief behind his sunglasses.

his cloths were rumpled and dirty . "hey Derek " I called "hummm " he hummed . "you look really happy what's the occasion " I stylishly ask but ended a chuckle from him "am just happy " he said and push his door open and we both walked in . he took off his dirty jacket and tossed in on the coat stand beside his reading table .he took off his boots too ad in no time he was completely naked in front of me , damn he doesn't know what he's doing to me . I could already feel my pussy getting wet by mare looking at his naked body .

He didn’t need to be told twice. He rolled off the bed and stood up – “Slowly,” I whispered. “I want to watch.” He stopped and stared down at me in the candlelight, then nodded like he was dazed. You know how hot guys in the movies take off their shirts? They reach up behind their backs and grab the fabric and pull it over their heads, and the whole shirt lifts up from their abs, and it looks really sexy? Derek did that, and it was even hotter.

CHAPTER 33 Freckles Derek stood motionless as he scrolled through his playlist for the perfect song to play. He had almost nothing on except a pair of tight designer briefs, the kind where the elastic waistband is all that covered your rear. His chest was patterned with crisscrossing tan lines from high school football workouts, each one a reminder of his commitment to discipline and excellence. The track finished loading, and soft music began to emanate from his speakers. "What do I do for love?" Derek sang along in a smooth voice that would have melted any heart within a half-mile radius. There was nothing to do for love but he sang along anyway. All these were done to take his mind off th

Framed fight posters showing a younger, snarling Derek in black trunks and gloves, veins popping, sweat shining off his delicious, jacked body. …shirtless with gloves on. “I’m not the only one who eye fucks you,” I echoed his earlier words, dumbfounded. “Because you're a wrestler. Like, professionally. Not a man slut with a hundred whores you expect me to tolerate.” Derek threw his head back and laughed until his whole frame shook. My whore body was on fire with embarrassment… and something else. Raw, primal, hungry. Of course my sex god, devil husband was an athlete. “I, fuck. I'm drunk, aren't I?” I said, watching his body still.

He had turned into a dark, dangerous and calculating being. Furthermore, he grabbed the man by the collar and made him kneel on the floor in front of him. The man tried to wage himself with his hand, placing them on the ground in front of him so to be able to balance well. Without skipping a beat, Derek put his foot on both his hands, the hands that touched just her shoulders, and he stood down on them, as if he wanted to break them, so he won'tbe able to use the hands again to touch another shoulder.

Every movement pulled the leather tighter, emphasizing rather than concealing. Tyla didn't comment. She just watched. Waiting. Judging. A sheer shirt came next—if it deserved the name. It was barely there, black and translucent, soft in texture but cruel in purpose. When she pulled it over my head, it settled against my skin like smoke, revealing more than it hid. My chest, my stomach, the faint rise and fall of my breathing—everything visible beneath the thin fabric. I froze. Derek adjusted the hem without a word, smoothing it down like he was dressing a mannequin.

“It is gross.” Derek burst out laughing and jumped off the bed, peeling off his shirt. “Fine. I will shower.” Without another word, he stripped the rest of his clothes and walked, completely naked, into the bathroom. Caleb sat on the bed, shaking his head with a chuckle. “So you left me here all by myself for three hours.” From inside the bathroom, Derek’s voice echoed faintly, laced with amusement. “Like it wasn’t your plan all along.”

He tears his tie off, rips open the collar of his dress shirt, and bunches his sleeves up. He looks absolutely fucking terrifying. A vein I’ve never noticed is bulging from his forehead, and it’s all I can focus on in my state of shock. Shawn sputters and coughs, bringing his attention back to him. “Man, what the fuck, what the hell! This is a mistake, I didn’t, I’m not—” he starts saying, but then Derek, who is standing above him, kicks him in the ribs again. Shawn collapses to the floor. The look on Derek’s face is manic. His eyes are sparkling with something crazy. His jaw tenses and his nostrils wide, I can see it even in the pitch black.