In the Flight -
Dylan had fallen asleep after Ember, and a few hours later, the flight attendant's voice echoed through the cabin, waking him up.
"Attention passengers, we are arriving at our final destination—City Haliçis in Country T. Please fasten your seatbelts, as we are about to land."
Moments later, an attendant approached Dylan, noticing Ember still asleep.
"Sir, could you please wake her up? We are about to land."
Dylan glanced at Ember, still peacefully asleep beside him. He shook his head slightly and replied, "I already put her seatbelt on, so it should be fine, right? I'll wake her up once we've landed."
"Okay," the attendant nodded before walking back to her seat.
The flight touched down at the airport past midnight. Dylan carefully wrapped his coat around Ember and carried her into the VIP lounge. He didn't want to wake her—Adrien's words still lingered in his mind, filling him with an unshakable fear of what might happen if she woke up too soon.
As they reached the lounge, Dylan called his secretary, who had been waiting at the airport. "Get my bags delivered to my apartment," he instructed before heading straight to his car.
The drive back to his apartment in Haliçis was silent except for the occasional hum of the engine. Upon arrival, Dylan thanked his secretary with a brief, "Thank you for today. Good night." Then, he gently placed Ember onto the bed.
He stood there for a moment, gazing at her peaceful face as she slept. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping away. With a deep breath, he took a quick shower and then climbed into bed beside her, letting sleep take over.
Haliçis, Country T -
Morning light streamed through the curtains as Ember stirred awake. Stretching lazily, she curled back into the blankets, hugging the quilt closer. A familiar scent clung to the fabric, making her smile.
"So sweet and refreshing… just like him," she murmured, burying her face into the warmth before sitting up.
As her eyes adjusted, confusion settled in. The room was unfamiliar, yet the scent surrounding her felt oddly comforting. Where was she? And where was Dylan?
Deciding to wait for him, she sat on the bed, but boredom quickly got the best of her. She figured she might as well freshen up first. After a warm shower, she stepped out, only to realize she hadn't brought any clothes with her. Wrapping herself in a towel, she searched the room for her bag—only to find it missing.
Peeking out of the room, she saw no one. The apartment was eerily quiet. She searched every corner, but her bag was nowhere to be found.
"What am I supposed to wear?" she thought in frustration.
Rushing back to the room, she opened the closet—only to be met with neatly arranged formal suits.
"Why is this closet full of only formal wear?" she grumbled. With no other choice, she grabbed one of Dylan's shirts and slipped it on.
Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her she hadn't eaten anything. She made her way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Someone had stocked it with the essentials—milk, eggs, bread.
Smiling to herself, she prepared an omelet sandwich and brewed coffee for both herself and Dylan. She waited for him, but when he still didn't show up, she picked up her coffee and went to look for her phone.
She needed to call him. After all, breakfast was best when shared.
Ember found her phone in the room just as she heard the sound of someone entering the door code. Her heart skipped a beat—Dylan?
She took a step toward the door, about to check, but then another voice followed his. Someone was with him.
Panic rushed through her as she glanced down at herself—she was still wearing Dylan's oversized shirt, barely decent. Without wasting another second, she spun around and hurried back into the room before anyone could see her.
Outside the Room -
Dylan entered the apartment with Emir, who had called him early in the morning just to scold him for not coming to his place to stay. The two had met at the gym, exchanged a few words, and then returned to the apartment together.
As they stepped inside, Emir glanced around before asking, "Where's Ember?"
Dylan frowned. "You've really changed. Ever since I started dating Ember, you don't even ask about me anymore. Now you're just nagging about where she is."
Emir smirked. "Don't be jealous over something so small. Just tell me where she is."
"She's still sleeping. Let me check on her—you stay here," Dylan replied, turning to head toward the room.
Before he could take a step, Emir's voice stopped him.
"You even prepared breakfast? How generous of you."
"What breakfast?" Dylan muttered, his brows furrowing. Then it hit him—Ember was awake. But she hadn't come out yet.
Wait.
His expression darkened as a realization struck him. "I told her not to go near the kitchen."
His heart pounded as he rushed toward the room, worry flooding his mind, because of the past. Had something happened? Had she gotten hurt while making breakfast?
Was that why she hadn't come out?
Inside the Room -
Dylan pushed the door open, his eyes scanning the room. But Ember was nowhere to be seen.
"Ember, where did you go?" he called out, his voice laced with confusion.
His gaze shifted to the walk-in closet, and with a sigh, he stepped forward and pulled the door open.
There she was—curled up inside, wrapped tightly in a blanket as if trying to disappear.
Seeing her like that made something uneasy stir inside him. He took a cautious step forward, but Ember instinctively tightened her grip on the fabric.
A flicker of worry crossed his face. His voice was firm but tinged with concern. "Did you get hurt somewhere?"
Ember shook her head quickly. "No, I didn't."
Dylan exhaled, but his frown remained. "Then why are you covering yourself like that?"
She could see it in his eyes—the fear, the uncertainty. He was genuinely worried about her. Slowly, hesitantly, she loosened her grip on the blanket. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, falling to the floor.
Dylan's gaze instinctively followed it, but when he looked up again, his breath hitched.
She stood before him, her bare legs exposed beneath the hem of his oversized shirt. Her damp hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trickling down, soaking into the fabric—turning it almost translucent in certain places.
His throat went dry.
Ember, embarrassed, lowered her eyes to the floor. "See? I'm not hurt," she murmured, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.
Dylan swallowed hard, taking a slow step closer. His eyes roamed over her, drawn to every little detail—the way her lips trembled slightly, the soft rise and fall of her chest.
She was breathtaking. And all he could think about was how much he wanted to claim her, to make her think of nothing and no one but him.
His gaze fell to her parted lips, and for a brief moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken desire.
Then—
"What are you doing in your room?"
Emir's voice cut through the tension like a knife.
Dylan blinked, reality crashing back in. In an instant, he reached for the blanket and wrapped it around Ember again before swiftly closing the closet door behind him.
His heart was still racing.
And all he could think about was how dangerously close he had been to losing control.
Outside the Room -
Dylan's eyes met Emir's as he stood leaning against the door, trying to compose himself.
"What happened? Why are you leaning against the door like that?" Emir asked, raising an eyebrow.
Without answering, Dylan grabbed Emir's wrist and pulled him out of the room.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Emir protested, confused by Dylan's sudden urgency.
Dylan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before saying, "I don't think now is a good time for you to meet her."
Emir frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Dylan sighed, trying to keep his tone calm. "I told you I have plans with her today. Just leave us alone for now. We'll see you tomorrow at your birthday party. You know how crowded my house always is—I barely get time alone with her. So, please."
Emir narrowed his eyes before a smirk slowly spread across his lips. "Oh my god, you look so desperate. Your ears are even turning red."
Dylan clenched his jaw, but Emir only chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to your 'quality time.' Give her my regards, and let's meet tomorrow at the party."
With that, Emir turned and walked away, still amused.
Inside the Room -
As soon as Emir left, Dylan stood frozen in place, his mind clouded with the lingering image of Ember—standing before him, wrapped in nothing but his shirt, her damp hair clinging to her skin, her flushed cheeks, her lips trembling slightly…
His grip tightened into a fist.
"If I go back in there now… I might lose my composure," he thought, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself.
After a moment, he forced himself to move. He stepped back into the room, his gaze immediately landing on Ember.
She was already watching him.
Wrapped in the blanket, she took a small step closer and hesitantly asked, "Did he leave?"
Dylan exhaled, his voice low. "Yeah."
Ember took a deep breath and sat on the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief.
"That's a relief," she murmured.
Dylan, however, couldn't take his eyes off her.
Uncontrollable Desire
Ember noticed his silence, her brows knitting together in concern. She tilted her head slightly, her voice soft yet questioning.
"What happened? Why aren't you saying anything? Hey, Dylan?"
But Dylan wasn't listening.
His mind was drowning in something far darker, something far more consuming.
Without a word, he took slow, deliberate steps toward her, his presence overwhelming. His gaze was locked onto her, intense and unreadable, making her breath hitch. When he finally reached her, he didn't stop. Instead, he leaned in, his warm palm cupping her cheek, his thumb grazing over her soft skin.
His fingers brushed against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver straight down her spine.
"That… tickles," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
But Dylan didn't move away.
Instead, his eyes darkened, locked onto hers, the air between them thick with something dangerous—something forbidden yet irresistible.
And then, before Ember could even process what was happening, his lips crashed against hers.
It wasn't gentle.
It was deep, urgent, filled with a hunger that made her knees weak.
His intensity pushed her back onto the bed, his weight hovering over her, trapping her beneath him.
"Ah!" she gasped softly, her mind turning hazy the moment his tongue slipped past her lips, claiming her completely. Each kiss grew deeper, more intoxicating, as if he wanted to consume every part of her.
Her breaths came in short, desperate gaps. It was overwhelming. Dizzying. She felt like she was melting beneath his touch. Her fingers curled into the sheets, her body trembling as warmth spread through her.
Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears—not from sadness, but from something far more intense.
Dylan pulled away slightly, just enough to take in her state—her flushed face, her swollen lips, the way her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.
She looked utterly ruined. And it made him want more.
Leaning down, he trailed slow, lingering kisses along the side of her face, moving lower until his lips found her ear.
His tongue traced along the delicate curve before his teeth sank into her earlobe—gentle, yet sharp enough to make her cry out.
"Ah!" Ember's body jerked at the sudden sensation, her breath catching.
Dylan smirked against her skin.
He wasn't done with her yet.
His lips moved lower, pressing hot, possessive kisses against the sensitive skin of her neck. Each one was slow, lingering—each one leaving a mark, as if silently branding her, claiming her as his.
Ember's trembling hands pressed against his chest, a weak attempt to stop him, but he was too strong. Too determined.
Easily, he caught both her wrists, pinning them above her head, his lips crashing against hers once more.
At that moment, time seemed to stop
Then—
A loud grumble echoed in the room.
Dylan froze.
He pulled back slightly and looked at her. "You didn't have breakfast?" he asked.
Ember, still catching her breath, hesitated before answering. "I was waiting for you… so we could have it together, but…" Her voice trailed off, her cheeks burning.
Dylan sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. He reached for the blanket, wrapping it securely around her before effortlessly lifting her into his arms.
"Let's go eat."
In the Kitchen -
Ember sat at the dining table, her eyes scanning for the breakfast she had prepared earlier—but the plate was empty.
Her brows furrowed. "I put it on the table…" she mumbled.
Just then, Dylan's phone rang. He glanced at the screen before answering.
"Hey, Dylan," Emir's voice came through. "Tell Ember her breakfast was really yummy. Say thanks to her on my behalf."
Dylan's jaw clenched. "You—"
Before he could say anything, Emir had already hung up.
Silence filled the kitchen for a moment before Ember chuckled softly.
"Let me make some more for us," she said, standing up and unwrapping the blanket to head toward the kitchen.
Before she could take a step, Dylan reached out and stopped her.
"I'll make breakfast. You can't," he said firmly, wrapping the blanket around her again.
She blinked. "Why?"
Dylan clenched his jaw, his thoughts spiraling, his body tensed with restraint.
If I see her like this again…
Wearing my shirt.
Smelling like me.
Looking so soft, so tempting.
The marks he had left on her delicate skin—proof of his possession—stood out against her fair complexion, taunting him. His fists tightened at his sides.
I might lose control… even more than before.
His breathing turned heavy as the memory of her lips, her warmth, the way she had looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, flashed through his mind.
Damn it.
If he stayed near her like this, if she kept testing his limits without even realizing it… he didn't know how much longer he could hold himself back.
Taking a deep breath, he forced a smirk and said, "Let your boyfriend cook for you. Just sit."
A Mess in the Kitchen -
Ember sat back, watching Dylan struggle in the kitchen. He heated the pan and drizzled some oil, his movements confident—at least, at first. But the moment he cracked an egg into the pan, hot oil splattered out, startling him. In his panic, his hand accidentally brushed against the scorching pan.
"Ouch! That hurts!" Dylan cried out, yanking his hand back abruptly.
Ember's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side. Her heart pounded with concern. "What happened?" she asked, her voice urgent.
"I just… touched the pan," Dylan muttered, shaking his hand to ease the sting.
Without a second thought, Ember grabbed his injured finger, her instincts taking over. Without realizing it, she brought it to her lips and slipped it into her mouth, her soft tongue cooling the burn with her saliva.
Dylan's entire body went rigid.
The warmth of her mouth, the softness of her lips wrapped around his skin—it was intoxicating. His breath hitched as a low, involuntary moan slipped past his lips.
"Let's just take some ice so you can cool your fingers," Ember mumbled, still holding his finger between her lips, oblivious to the effect she was having on him.
His stomach clenched, his breathing growing heavy. His gaze darkened, watching her, entranced.
"Don't… say anything… when you have my finger in your mouth," Dylan murmured, his voice low and strained, thick with something unspoken.
Ember froze.
Realization hit her like a wave. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she became painfully aware of how close they were.
Her breath ghosted over his skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Dylan's shirt draped over her small frame, barely covering her. Her bare legs, the way her damp hair clung to her neck, the scent of her mixing with his—it was too much. The air between them grew unbearably heavy, thick with tension neither of them could escape.
Dylan clenched his jaw, stepping back suddenly.
"I need to… go to the bathroom," he said in a hoarse whisper before turning on his heel and disappearing.
Ember stood frozen in place, her heart hammering inside her chest. She touched her lips absentmindedly, still feeling the lingering heat of his skin.
What had just happened?
And why did she feel like she was the one burning now?
She blinked, still flustered. "But we need to put something on your hand—"
"I'll do it myself!" Dylan called out from inside the bathroom, his voice unnaturally tense.
Ember let out a small sigh, glancing back at the disaster Dylan had left in the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Did he… even know how to cook in the first place?" she wondered, remembering the confidence he had displayed earlier. But looking at the mess—the eggshells scattered on the counter, the oil splattered on the stove—she had her doubts.
Shaking her head, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.
If Dylan couldn't make breakfast, she would just do it herself.
On the other side of the door, Dylan stood in the bathroom, gripping the sink as he tried to steady his breath.
His body was betraying him.
No matter how hard he tried to push the thought away, it refused to leave his mind—Ember, standing there in his shirt, her damp hair clinging to her soft skin, smelling like him. And then, there was the way she had taken his finger into her mouth so innocently, completely unaware of how utterly tempting she looked.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
His jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his wet hair, his body burning with a desire he was struggling to suppress.
Without another thought, he turned on the shower, setting it to the coldest temperature possible. Stepping under the icy stream, he let the water crash against his skin, hoping it would wash away the thoughts threatening to consume him.
But even as the cold numbed his senses, one truth remained—
Ember was driving him insane.
By the time Ember finished preparing breakfast, the kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of eggs and freshly brewed coffee again. She set the plates on the table, and they sat down to eat.
As they ate in comfortable silence, Dylan suddenly looked at her, his gaze lingering on the oversized shirt draping over her frame.
"Why are you wearing this?" he asked, his voice low, yet curious.
Ember met his eyes and replied casually, "I took a shower, but when I checked everywhere, my luggage was nowhere to be found. So, I had to borrow your shirt. Did I do something wrong?"
Dylan exhaled, shaking his head slightly.
"No, you didn't. I think the luggage just hasn't been delivered yet," he said, though his eyes betrayed the fact that he wasn't entirely unaffected by the sight of her wearing his clothes.
Just as they finished breakfast, the doorbell rang. Dylan got up to answer it. It was his secretary, who had brought their belongings from the airport. After handing them over, he gave a polite nod and left.
Ember let out a relieved sigh. Finally, I can change into something proper.
Dylan, on the other hand, watched her with an unreadable expression, his mind still clouded with thoughts he wasn't ready to face.