Chapter 21 Cherry

Chapter 21 Cherry

The last time I was in Dylan’s living room, I had been too angry to notice its tasteful, understated décor. Sitting on the stylish L-shaped sofa, I took in the color scheme.

“The blue and orange palette you’ve chosen really works, by the way.” I couldn’t help observing as I took in the aesthetic in the soft glow of the lamps Dylan switched on.

His lips twitched. “Ever the artist,” he said fondly. “But I’m afraid I can’t take credit for this. Bert got an interior decorator in to do everything.”

I nodded and, despite my melancholy mood from my shock at Carl’s betrayal, realized that I wasn’t angry at the thought of my old friend. For the last week, I’d refused to answer his sorry texts over the fact that he’d told Dylan about Fern. I thought I’d text him tomorrow and say all was forgotten and forgiven. Life was too short to hold a grudge against my oldest friend. After all, good people were in short supply these days. The memory of glimpsing Carl through the restaurant’s window, kissing that woman, sent disgust through me.

Dylan asked, “If you want to talk about anything, Cherry, I’m here for you.” His dark eyes wound over my face with concern, and I felt touched by his earnestness. “Can I get you a drink, tea, coffee, or something stronger?”

My lips twitched at the thought of how many coffees and other things he’d brought to my door over the week. But the sincere worry stamped across his face about my well-being had me answering equally truthfully. “I could really do with a glass of wine, please.”

“Coming right up.” Easing himself out of the low sofa, he went to the kitchen.

As I heard the opening of cupboard doors and the clink of glasses, I took off my heels. I wore a mint green midi dress, so it was long enough that I was able to curl myself up on the sofa without showing too much leg. I leaned back into the comfy gray couch, closing my eyes and letting myself relax.

“Red or white?” Dylan asked, returning with a tray and two bottles, and a pair of glasses.

“White, please.”

Accepting the elegant, tall-stemmed glass, I took a sip and sighed with pleasure at the taste of the crisp liquid. “You’re right,” I said, looking at Dylan, who watched me, “it has been a long week.”

Dylan eased off his shoes, too, his long legs crossed at the ankle as he settled back on the sofa.

After another sip of wine, the soothing atmosphere and Dylan’s company made me open up. “When I came back to Berlin after your Alpha Ceremony…” I trailed off, needing another mouthful of wine before I could meet Dylan’s eyes, but he watched me, patiently waiting for whatever I had to share. “I decided I should take things to the next level with the guy I’d been seeing.”

I took another gulp of wine, needing it to loosen up about talking to Dylan, of all people, about this subject.

“I told him I was ready to, well, you know…” As my eyes met Dylan’s, my heart tightened as I saw the effect my words had. His jaw clenched, and he gripped his wine so tightly I thought he would break the delicate stem.

Dylan’s dark eyes raked down my body, his breathing quickening. “Did he hurt you?” He growled.

Quickly, I shook my head, realizing his distress was because he thought Carl had physically hurt me. “No,” I told him. “I mean, we didn’t actually get to moving things on.” My lips twitched. “What with you appearing and leaving breakfast outside my door, I haven’t exactly been in the right headspace for dating.” I shook my head, realizing I was getting off-topic. “But tonight, Fern and I went to a restaurant where Carl once took me. When I arrived, I spotted Carl at a table kissing another woman.”

My voice trembled, and I took another sip of my drink, hating how broken I sounded. Anger enveloped me, and I added, “So, yeah, it turns out Carl’s an asshole who treats women like shit, and I was just the latest idiot taken in by him.”

Dylan set down his glass on the coffee table, then took mine from me. I bit back the retort that I needed that tonight, watching him warily.

He took my hands, fixing his solemn gaze on me. “You’re not an idiot. You’re the cleverest, kindest, most caring person I know, and you deserve a partner who sees that. I know you’ll meet someone who values you, Cherry, because someone who shines as brightly as you could never be alone for long.”

My breath hitched as Dylan’s loving words washed over me, and the touch of his strong hands holding mine felt both soothing and electrifying. I wondered if he felt that peculiar sense of rightness where we touched.

His eyes darkened with intensity. “I would never in my whole life betray you, Cherry, I swear.”

His heartfelt stare and earnest tone had me throwing my arms around him. He held me tight, the wall of his chest and his strength around me, making me feel safer than I had in years.

When I finally pulled away from him, I couldn’t bring myself to disengage from him completely, and my hands remained on his chest until… they slid up, inching around the back of his neck and into his hair. He looked like he didn’t dare move, so I drew myself up, my lips finding his until his arms were in my hair, too, trailing down my neck and back. Our mouths, hungry for one another, once more worked together: our lips, teeth, and tongues coming together in a wild kiss.

But, eventually, Dylan pulled back. His eyes were deliciously dark with desire, but he urged, “Cherry, you’re upset tonight. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

Given the heat in his kiss, the restraint he displayed seemed like an impossible feat. It made my trust in him soar. Dylan would never take advantage of me. After all, I remembered how he’d never pretended to be something he wasn’t or to feel something he didn’t. When we’d lived together, he may have hurt me by not feeling what I did for him, but he’d never lied. But… he desired me now. And… I wanted him.

I melted against him. “You’ve been urging me to trust you, and after tonight, I do. So kiss me.”

Heat flared in his eyes as I commanded him, and I felt a thrilling sense of satisfaction as the Starsmoon Alpha readily complied, crushing his mouth to mine. My whole body sang beneath his touch, and Dylan’s hands soon slid up my curves, peeling my dress off. I was eager to feel his skin against mine and divested him of his shirt. My heart seemed to ricochet off my ribcage as I revered the sculpted muscle of his chest with my hands, then my lips, and tongue.

Dylan made quick work of stripping my bra from me. My nipples pebbled as he sucked and teased them. I moaned, driven wild by the wet ache building in my core. Before I knew it, I forced him back on the couch, tearing his trousers and boxers off of him. Wet heat pooled between my legs just at the sight of his hard cock, and I whimpered.

Scenting my arousal, he growled in appreciation and pushed me back, pulling my lace knickers off of me. In a moment, his hand swept down my abdomen, thrusting a finger inside me and groaning again at the wetness that met him.

Gasping and arching against his fingers, I spread my legs wider. My legs hooked around his ass, bringing him closer to me.

“Does my mate need something?” He teased, his voice deliciously throaty.

“Please,” I begged, nudging him towards me more. I felt the tip of his arousal against me, but he kept two of his fingers inside me, teasing my clit.

I whimpered, moaning as pleasure rippled through me. “Please, Dylan.” I gasped.

“Tell me what you want, mate?” He commanded. His assertive tone turned me into a puddle.

“I want your cock inside me, mate,” I said huskily. “Now.”

I felt him smile against my lips as he kissed me roughly, then spread my legs and entered me. With a rough thrust, he buried himself. I was so wet there was hardly any discomfort, only Dylan’s glorious fullness. He cradled me in his arms, watching with a look of awe as I quivered beneath him. That look alone seemed to undo me. I felt a fulfillment I hadn’t since the last time we’d been locked together like this.

Then Dylan rolled his hips, filling me with more of his delicious girth. I gasped, opening and arching against him to receive all of him until he was completely sheathed inside me. He plunged into me, and a tremor of pleasure shook through me. I bucked and cried out, already seeing stars. Dylan growled in appreciation, the sound sending me spiraling into another orgasm.

“Dylan,” I cried out as the wave of pleasure took me. I felt as if all I was this fluttering and contracting around him. I clung to my mate, my nails clawing into his back and my legs hooking around his ass. My ragged breaths merged with his as he rode me hard until his shoulders stiffened. The strong lines on Dylan’s face were so taut as he roared his release, and I gloried in the primal sight. As he collapsed against me, spent, I melted against him, feeling as if I never wanted to let him go.

The next day when my eyelids fluttered open to a dim room, it took me a moment to remember where I was. Then, memory tumbled back to me. I was in Dylan’s bed. He’d carried me here after we’d made love on the sofa, and I’d fallen asleep in his arms.

Raising myself on my elbow from the comfy mattress, I eyed the strong, muscled back next to me. For a moment, frustration needled through me. I’d tried so hard to resist his advances. The last week, I’d felt so confused by his constant nearness and his continued claim that I was still his mate.

But my mind whirled back to our passionate lovemaking. I never thought he’d want me with the urgency he’d displayed last night. After he’d rejected me seven years ago, saying that our night together had been a mistake, I’d given up on us. But last night had shown me how much he wanted me. A delicious thrill rocked my body as I remembered his primal growls and groans as he’d marveled at my wetness. The memory of his domineering tone, ordering me to tell him what I wanted, echoed through me, “Tell me what you want, mate.” Then the magnificent sight of his face and body racked with pleasure as he spilled inside me, causing an ache to build between my legs again.

“Do you know how delicious you smell, mate?” Dylan’s voice rumbled from beside me. In an instant, he’d turned around, and I was caged between his arms.

“Better than croissants?” I joked.

His eyes darkened with desire, and I felt the tell-tale hardness against my leg of his arousal. “Hmm, I might have to do a taste test.”

My core turned molten, and I grew wetter with anticipation. I watched his nostrils flare, loving his shifter senses as he scented me.

But he surprised me as he grew serious. “I know last night was a lot for you. After everything that’s happened lately.” He edged back, giving me space. “You’d tell me if you wanted to slow things down, wouldn’t you?”

His gentle concern reminded me of his loving confession last night. When he’d told me I was the cleverest, kindest, most caring person he knew. That I deserved a partner who appreciated me. Happiness soared through me as I remembered how he’d vowed so solemnly that he’d never betray me so long as he lived, and I believed him. Completely.

I softened, realizing I needed to tell him that he was the perfect partner for me. “Of course, I’d tell you. But I don’t want to slow down. I want you. I want us. You’ve made me believe that we can have what I wanted us to have seven years ago: a home and a family.” I paused, trying the word on my tongue as if tasting its sweetness as I added, “I want you, mate.”

The heat in his gaze intensified, and he planted a tender, lingering kiss on my lips.

“Speaking of family,” he ventured calmly. “Fern is my daughter, isn’t she?”

Heat prickled over my skin as, for the first time, I worried about telling Dylan that was so, but not because I feared he’d take her away, but because I worried he wouldn’t understand why I’d kept him from her.

I nodded. “She was conceived when we were together the night of your dad’s birthday.” I frowned. “I’m sorry I kept her from you, but–”

“I understand, Cherry,” he reassured me, caressing my face and making my worries vanish. “The past doesn’t matter. Just know that to have gotten back my mate, and discovered I have a daughter all in the same twenty-four hours, makes me the luckiest man alive.”

The joyful smile on his face was infectious, and I beamed at him too.

And as we laid more tender kisses upon one another, Dylan insisted on doing his “taste test,” and we were soon lost in the throes of passion once more.