Wrapped in You.

"Dylan..." Ember whispered, her voice trembling, lips still tingling from the heat of his kiss.

He finally pulled back, his thumb gently brushing the corner of her swollen mouth, eyes locked on her like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire universe. His voice dropped into a low, husky whisper. "You drive me insane, Ember... and I don't want to stop."

Ember's breath hitched. "But... you have to," she murmured, barely able to meet his gaze.

"Why?" Dylan asked, his voice laced with both longing and challenge.

But just as the moment threatened to spiral into something even more dangerous, Ember's stomach growled—loud and unashamed—cutting the tension like a knife.

There was a pause. Then Dylan chuckled, a warm, deep sound that rumbled through her chest. He leaned in, smirking. "You're hungry... aren't you?"

Ember didn't say a word. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment as she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

Dylan didn't tease her further. Instead, he gestured for the waiter to come in. The door to the private room opened silently, and the dishes they had ordered were placed on the table. Ember's gaze remained fixed on the floor, her fingers nervously curled in her lap.

When the waiter left, Dylan leaned in close, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear.

"Eat your fill, sweetheart..." he whispered, his voice dripping with sensual promise, "then I'll finish what I left... right in the middle."

Ember's entire body stiffened. Her ears turned crimson, and a shiver ran down her spine like a soft current. Before she could react, Dylan pressed his lips to her ear and gently bit the edge.

A spark shot through her, her heart thudding so loud she was sure he could hear it.

"If you're not eating," he whispered again, lips brushing her skin, "then I'll just help myself... to what I left."

Ember turned to look at him, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. Their gazes met and held—hers filled with emotion, and his burning with desire. Her entire face was flushed, every inch of her screaming vulnerability and temptation.

She looked exotic—stunning, fragile, yet burning from within. Dylan gulped, the sight of her undoing him slowly. But when he saw the tears trembling in her lashes, his playfulness melted into concern.

Without a word, he cupped her face gently, pulling her close as if shielding her from the world. Ember's breathing slowed, and she whispered through her trembling lips, "Stop teasing me..."

He kissed her eyes softly, reverently.

"Okay... I'll stop," he said, voice low and tender. "Eat something first, sunshine. I ordered all your favorites... and a few surprises too. You might like them. Just try, okay?"

His tone held no pressure—only care, desire, and that unshakable protectiveness that always wrapped Ember in a sense of safety.

Ember glanced at the table, eyes widening at the amount of food laid out.

"Hey, Dylan... didn't you order a bit too much?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with a smile.

Dylan leaned back in his seat, eyes locked on hers with a teasing glint. "You haven't had anything good to eat in days, Ember. I want you to eat until you're full. I know how much of a foodie you are."

His words made her heart flutter. He remembered such tiny things about her—things even she didn't think he'd notice.

They began to eat, and Ember smiled faintly, grateful that he always thought about her. But no matter how hard she tried, her appetite was nowhere to be found, even if her stomach is empty. Her heart felt heavy, her body a bit off, but she didn't let it show. She tasted everything he ordered—dish by dish—because she didn't want to disappoint him. She wanted today to be perfect. She wanted them to feel perfect.

Even if she had to push herself to do it.

After the meal, Ember placed her fork down and looked up at him with hesitant eyes. "Dylan... I need to use the restroom," she said gently.

Dylan nodded, but his brow furrowed slightly in concern. He knew something was off, even if she didn't say it.

He stood up without a word, pulling out his phone. The idea of letting her wander off on her own, even to a restroom, clearly didn't sit well with him because of her legs condition. So instead, he made a quick call, arranging for a room upstairs—private, quiet, and safe.

Before she could protest, he moved to her side and scooped her up into his arms with ease.

"Dylan... what are you—" Ember's breath caught in her throat.

"Shh... just let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice like velvet as he carried her close to his chest, heart pounding against hers.

He took her upstairs, footsteps slow and steady, as if she were made of glass. Inside the room, he placed her down with the same gentleness one would use to place something sacred.

Then he guided her to the restroom door, his hand brushing her cheek.

"Take your time, baby," he whispered, voice thick with emotion and something deeper—possessive, protective, undeniably his. "But if you feel even a little dizzy... I want you to call my name. I'll be right here." 

Inside the bathroom, Ember stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. Her skin had gone pale, her lips slightly parted as waves of unease curled in her stomach. She'd eaten far more than she could handle—not because she was hungry, but because Dylan had ordered it. Because he had thought of her. Because she hadn't wanted to let him down. And she didn't want him to know that she hadn't had any appetite since that incident.

But her body betrayed her.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the sink, and suddenly, everything she'd eaten came back up in violent waves. She doubled over, coughing, tears blurring her vision as she emptied her stomach. Her entire body began to sweat, cold and clammy. She reached for the faucet, splashing water on her face, trying to regain control.

That's when she heard it—a gentle knock at the door.

"Ember…?" Dylan's voice came through, low and cautious. He hadn't locked the door—he refused to, not with the way Ember had looked earlier. And she was thankful. Her voice came out weak, but she managed to say, "Come in…"

The door creaked open, and Dylan's eyes immediately locked onto her. Her face was pale, her hair slightly damp from the sweat, her lips colorless. She looked fragile, breakable.

Without hesitation, he rushed to her side and caught her before she could stumble again.

"Baby, you're burning up…" he whispered, guiding her gently to the bed. His arms never left her, not for a second. Once she was lying down, he grabbed a towel, wiping her face tenderly.

"What happened, Ember? Are you not feeling well?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Ember forced a faint smile. "No… I'm… I'm okay. Just... feeling a little hot, that's all."

Dylan didn't believe her, not for a moment. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, and pressed his hand gently against her forehead.

"Let me check… just to be sure," he said softly.

Ember's vision blurred, but her gaze was locked onto one thing—his lips. Soft, full, still tasting faintly like the kiss they'd shared earlier. Her thoughts spiraled, her heart raced. Without thinking, without even realizing what she was doing, her fingers reached up.

She touched his lips gently.

Dylan froze.

Her fingertips lingered, trembling, pressing softly against his mouth. His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away. He let her.

Then, Ember parted his lips slowly with her finger. Her touch was unsure, trembling, but intentional. Her finger slipped past his lips, into the warm heat of his mouth. She felt the wetness of his tongue against her skin, the shock of intimacy jolting through her like lightning.

Dylan let out a quiet sound—"Ahh…"—as her nail brushed the inside of his mouth, grazing a sensitive spot. The sound snapped Ember back to reality, horror crashing down on her. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing.

Oh my God... What was she thinking?

She tried to pull her hand away in embarrassment, cheeks blazing—

But he caught her finger between his teeth. Gently.

He didn't bite to hurt her. Just enough to keep her there, just for a few seconds more. A playful tease, a silent claim.

When he finally released her, there was a faint mark—a trace of his hold.

Ember stared at it, breathless, stunned. Her heart thundered in her chest, her skin on fire. Dylan leaned closer, his voice rough with desire and tenderness.

"Next time…" he whispered near her ear, " I will not stop unless you beg me too."

"Stop teasing me," Ember whispered, her breath shallow, her cheeks still burning from the moment they'd just shared.

It was that magical time of day when the sun began to dip into the horizon, painting the sky with fiery hues. Dylan leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

"Wanna watch the sunset with me?" he murmured, his voice low and warm against her skin.

Ember gave a small nod. "Okay…"

Without another word, Dylan swept her up into his arms like she weighed nothing at all. Cradled against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat—steady, strong, and somehow calming. He carried her out of the restaurant and down a narrow path that led directly to the beach, just as the sky turned molten gold.

The two of them settled near the shoreline, the sand soft beneath them as the sun's final rays danced across the water. Ember watched the shimmering ocean in awe—the way it reflected the sky, glowing with beauty and peace.

Suddenly, the wind shifted, growing cool. She shivered slightly.

Dylan noticed immediately. He slid off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders without a second thought. But he didn't stop there. He pulled her closer, cocooning her inside the coat with him, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her into his chest.

"Better?" he whispered near her ear, his breath warm, protective.

Ember looked up and smiled, her face glowing in the golden light. She felt safe. Wanted. Cherished.

The sun disappeared beneath the waves, and dusk crept over them like a soft blanket. Just then, a playful wave rushed up the shore, soaking their legs. Ember let out a laugh, startled by the cold but delighted. Each time the water touched her skin, she giggled softly, unable to hold back the joy bubbling inside her.

She turned toward Dylan with a mischievous grin and scooped up a handful of seawater, flinging it at his face.

He blinked, water dripping down his cheeks. "Oh, so that's how it is?" he chuckled, eyes gleaming. "You wanna play, huh?"

Before she could escape, he retaliated, splashing her back. Water flew through the air, laughter erupted between them, and for a moment—it was just them and the ocean.

The playful splashing turned into a chase. Ember tries to run, but the sand and her legs slowed her, and Dylan caught her with ease, spinning her around before gently lowering her onto the soft shore, now damp with the tide.

She lay there on the sand, breathless from laughter. Dylan hovered above her, his arms on either side of her head. The sound of waves crashed in the distance, but all he could hear was her laughter. Her eyes sparkled, her smile wide and real—like it hadn't been in a long time.

And it was in that moment—seeing her radiant like that—that Dylan's chest ached with a feeling deeper than he could describe. He leaned in, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek, his voice low and husky.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now…"

 Slowly, he leaned in, their foreheads touching gently, breaths mingling in the salty sea breeze. Their eyes held each other—silent, intense—as if the whole world had faded around them. He moved closer, lips just inches from hers.

But before he could reach her, Ember closed the gap, her heart pounding as she tilted her head and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him first—soft and urgent—pouring everything she couldn't say into that moment.

Her hands wrapped tightly around Dylan's neck, pulling him closer as he kissed her back, deeper, slower, his hand sliding behind her head to shield her hair from the sand beneath them. Their bodies tangled as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate, and neither of them noticed the rising tide.

The waves had crept up around them, soaking their clothes. Dylan suddenly pulled back just enough to glance down—Ember was beneath him, breathless and drenched, her dress clinging to her skin, nearly transparent under the moonlight. His protective instincts kicked in instantly.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, gently lifting her in his arms and carrying her to a wooden bench nearby. Her body was trembling slightly from the chill. Dylan searched for his coat, but it was soaked through too.

He turned to Ember, his gaze landing on her soaked figure—every curve of her body now visible through the thin fabric. Desire flared in his chest, but he looked away for a second, biting down on his lower lip. Without hesitation, he pulled off his shirt—the only dry piece of clothing left on him.

Ember's eyes widened as she watched him undress in front of her for the first time. His wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets sliding down the lines of his sculpted torso. Her breath hitched the moment her gaze fell on his abs—lean, defined, glistening in the fading light.

Dylan stepped closer and gently draped the shirt around her shoulders, but Ember's eyes were still fixed on his body, and as his fingers touched her skin, she leaned in, drawn to something familiar.

"You smell…" she whispered, inhaling deeply near his neck, her nose brushing against his collarbone.

Dylan froze slightly, heart racing. What is she doing? he wondered—but didn't stop her.

Ember took another deep breath, her voice softer, sultry. "You smell so good… like pineapple." She leaned in again, this time lingering longer, her lips brushing lightly against his skin. "No, wait… like candy."

A slow, amused smile curved on Dylan's lips, but the way his eyes darkened revealed something deeper—a need he was struggling to keep in check. He gently cupped Ember's cheek, his voice low and raspy.

"You're driving me insane, Ember…"

Dylan couldn't help but smile at her—at the way she was so lost in him, in his scent, in the closeness between them. Ember noticed it and narrowed her eyes, her voice laced with playful suspicion.

"Why are you laughing?"

He chuckled softly, his lips dangerously close to hers. "Because, Ember... you're really testing my patience right now."

"What did I do?" she asked innocently. But the moment the words left her lips, realization struck.

Her hands were still all over him—trailing across his bare chest, fingertips grazing his abs. And she had just been sniffing his neck like some obsessed lover desperate to remember every part of him.

Dylan bit his lip, trying to suppress a grin as he leaned in a little. "So... do you want to stay here? Or should we continue this in the room?"

Ember's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened at his boldness, and her lips parted as heat rushed to her cheeks. She looked down, flustered, then said softly, "I... I'll stay here."

But Dylan wasn't done teasing. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, his voice low and sinful.

"You want to do it here?" he whispered. "You know I'm not really a fan of public fun... but if it's what you want—"

Her entire face went scarlet. She froze.

"Do... do what?" she stammered, before stopping herself—realizing exactly what he meant. The words clung to her throat like a trap, and she buried her face in her hands, mortified.

Dylan couldn't help but laugh, but there was tenderness in it. He reached out and gently patted her head. "Your little mind is way too dirty, baby," he teased.

Then he stepped back, his tone shifting slightly into protective concern. "Stay here. I'll grab a towel for you."

He didn't want to take her back while she was still soaked—especially with her clothes nearly see-through. She nodded softly, her lips curved in a quiet smile as he walked away.

For a moment, she was alone.

Ember looked up at the sky. The stars above glittered like diamonds, the ocean shimmering beneath the moonlight. Everything felt magical—too beautiful to be real. The night, the waves, the cool breeze brushing against her flushed skin… and Dylan.

She smiled to herself, cheeks still warm from everything that had just happened.

How could one day feel so perfect?

All the pain, the darkness from before—it felt far away now. Like a past life she no longer belonged to. In this moment, all she wanted was to hold onto this warmth... this peace.

Her eyes grew heavy. The comfort of the waves, the salty air, and the lingering scent of Dylan on his shirt wrapped around her like a lullaby. Slowly, her body relaxed. Her head leaned to the side.

And then, with the soft whisper of waves in the background...

Ember drifted to sleep on the quiet beach bench, wrapped in the warmth of the man she loved.

When Dylan returned, a thick blanket draped over his arm, the first thing he saw was Ember—curled up on the bench, her eyes closed, already lost in a peaceful sleep.

A soft smile touched his lips. Even in sleep... she looks like a dream.

He knelt beside her, wrapping the blanket gently around her small frame, making sure every part of her was protected from the night air. But as he slid his arms under her to lift her off the bench, her body trembled in his hold.

"Shhh, it's me, baby… it's just me," he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open for just a second—long enough to see his face—and the moment she recognized him, she clung to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. That one silent action told him everything.

She still hadn't fully healed. That incident—the one that nearly shattered her—it was still haunting her, lingering in the shadows of her mind.

Dylan's heart twisted. He held her closer, one hand cradling her head against his chest as he carried her back toward their hotel room, like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Once inside, he laid her gently on the bed, careful not to wake her. But she stirred slightly in her sleep, her soaked clothes still clinging to her delicate body.

Dylan's brows furrowed. He couldn't leave her like that.

He stepped out quickly and headed to the hotel boutique, selecting a soft, loose dress for her—something comfortable, something she'd feel safe in.

When he returned, she was still asleep. Respectfully, he tied a scarf around his eyes, covering his sight completely. Then, with careful, trembling hands, he helped her out of the wet clothes, whispering apologies and words of comfort even though she couldn't hear them. His touch was gentle, reverent—never lingering, never crossing a line.

Once she was dressed in the new outfit, he untied the scarf and looked at her sleeping form.

She looked peaceful again. Innocent. His.

Dylan leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingering there as if he could take away her pain with his lips.

"You're safe now, Ember... and I swear, as long as I'm breathing, no one will ever hurt you again."