Chapter 7

Cherry

Dylan was heavy. Luckily, he was lucid enough to walk, albeit with lurching steps. He was so tall compared to my petite frame. My head only came up to his chest. Even in the heels I wore, he towered over me. Now and then, his big hand flopped against my neck or down my back as he steadied himself. By keeping an arm around his waist, I guided him in the right direction and kept him upright.

Within a few short minutes, we were at our door. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d left my coat, with my keys, at Dylan’s parents.

“Fuck,” I swore.

Dylan let out a deep laugh, and my eyes darted up to him. He stared down at me. “I haven’t heard you swear before.”

With the way he blinked at me, you’d have thought I’d grown a second head. I reminded myself that he was drunk. He probably was seeing two of me.

I sighed, “Well, now you have.” Irritation needled through me as the cold night stung my bare arms, neck, and back. Even Dylan’s body heat as he leaned on me couldn’t chase the cold away. “I forgot my keys. Do you have yours?”

He nodded, his dark gaze still held me. He patted his left trouser pocket, and a welcome jangle met my ear. He tried to slip his left hand into his pocket but missed. I chuckled.

I felt his arm stiffen around me, but his shadowy stare blazed with unexpected intensity.

“You’ve never laughed at me before, either.” His gaze tracked over my face as if he was seeing me properly for the first time. To have his attention pinned on me almost robbed me of my breath, but the decision I’d made to leave and chase my dreams helped me keep my cool.

Anger tinged my voice, “Well, you deserve it. You could’ve ruined your dad’s birthday getting into this state.” I reached around awkwardly, freeing the keys from his pocket.

When I pushed the door open, his voice sounded much more strongly and significantly. “You’re right, Cherry. Thank you for looking after me, and thank you for getting us home.”

It was my turn to look up at him with surprise. I didn’t think he’d ever said thank you so sincerely. And those words “us” and “home” seemed to beat with meaning when uttered in his deep, possessive tone.

Dylan’s brown gaze seared into me. Then as the wall of the house was suddenly behind me and Dylan’s huge body pressed against mine, I felt as if I’d stumbled into one of my fantasies. His lips devoured mine, plundering my mouth and stealing my breath away. I was powerless to stop him. Besides… I didn’t want to. I felt my wolf’s hunger rising in me and merging with my own blinding need. Need for him.

My whole world was reduced to Dylan’s tongue, pushing its way into my mouth, probing and exploring. My tongue tangled with his, and ripples of pleasure flooded me. His kisses were demanding, and my lips soon felt swollen, but I didn’t want him to stop.

As his teeth bit my lip, molten heat moved through my core—a wet ache built between my legs. A moan escaped me, and Dylan pulled back. His burning stare swept my face, and whatever he saw there turned his expression even more carnal.

“Mine,” he growled. His hands were everywhere, making good on his word: every searing touch like a brand. His hand fisted in my hair, the other trailed down by back, and then they were both on my hips, massaging my skin through the sheer silk of my dress. His mouth continued to punish my lips. He pulled me flush against him, the feel of his arousal straining against his trousers, hard against my stomach.

As he lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. He pushed the front door open and carried us inside. I wiggled my heels off, using my feet. Dylan carried me straight into my bedroom. Our bedroom, I thought.

Finally.

The curtains were undrawn, but I didn’t care. I only had eyes for my mate. Besides, with the sliver of moonlight, I could bask in the sight of him. Laying me down on the bed, Dylan’s eyes never left me as if he were feasting on me as much as I was his. The idea stirred the ache between my legs. I needed him. I’d needed him for a long time.

My mate.

Dylan’s impatience was evident as he stripped his suit jacket and shirt off. My cheeks flushed as I admired the sculpted muscle of his chest, all the way down to where it disappeared below his waistline. The sound of him undoing his belt buckle sent a delicious thrill through me, and my toes curled.

As Dylan rid himself of his trousers and boxers, his erection sprang free. I swallowed thickly, half nervous, half excited. As my mate came to me, he shoved the silk dress up around my waist, pulled down my lace knickers, then stroked the bundle of nerves between my legs. I gasped as the wetness of my arousal slicked his fingers. Heat rose in me, and I whimpered with pleasure. I arched into his touch as he continued to caress my clit.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. The feeling in me built and built. I was close to coming apart, but I wanted him completely. Leaning down, I grasped his arousal. Pumping his cock, I drank in the groan he awarded me. But I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Dylan,” I gasped. “I need you.”