Page 9 of Empty

While Delaney made his way to the table, I busied myself in the kitchen, plating the meal. I was bringing the side dishes, but stopped when I turned the corner, my breath hitching as I took in the sight of the man standing at my back door. The moonlight streamed through the open curtains, the gentle glow illuminating his reddish-brown skin. He reached up to tuck away a loose curl, the movement drawing my attention to the golden studs lining his ear from the lobe to the tip. I hadn’t noticed his piercings before, but in my defense, I was utterly captivated by his stunning beauty the first time we met. Even now, a small smile rested upon his full lips, the dimple near the corner of his mouth flashing from time to time as he held his bottom lip between his teeth. A gentle flush kissed his cheek bones, bringing out a smattering of mahogany freckles that dusted his skin. Quietly, I placed the food on the table, going back and forth two more times until everything was set. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I did so eventually. “I wasn’t exactly sure what to serve you, so I decided it would be easier to bring everything.”

Delaney turned around, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced at the table. Taking his seat, he bashfully replied, “Thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure what wine you’d prefer, but it seemed as if you enjoyed white.” I poured two glasses of Viognier before serving him. As I plated the food, I took the time to share a bit of my passion, naming each dish and highlighting particular flavors. I sat across from him, anticipating the usual ebb and flow of dinner conversation but was given the gift of watching him enjoy the food. A low rumble of appreciation rolled over his heart shaped lips before he dabbed his mouth with the napkin. That sound was going to be my undoing, and I couldn’t help but wonder what else I could possibly do to get him to make those same noises.

“Did you make dinner?” Delaney asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, a shy smile flirting with the corners of my mouth. “I did. What did you think?”

He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs at the knee as he hummed. “I think that you’re one step closer to getting me to make the same sounds I did at dinner the first time.”

Arching an eyebrow, I chuckled softly. “Yeah? Well, we still have dessert.”

“I’m not sure I can eat another bite.”

“Not even if it’s a rich chocolate cake?” I needled.

He squinted in my direction. “Why were you insistent on making me dinner and dessert?”

“It’s simple.”

“Well?” Delaney folded his arm over his chest, waiting for an answer.

Unsure of what possessed me to do so, I took a risk when I stated, matter of fact, “I like you.”

Red swiftly tinted Delaney’s skin, his lips parting, closing, and parting once again. “You don’t know me.”

“It doesn’t take an entire day to recognize sunshine. I know that being around you is calming. I know that I haven’t felt this relaxed ever. I know that I can’t stop thinking about you and I’ve wanted to see you every day since our first date.”

He fiddled with his hair, pulling the long curls from behind his ear and allowing them to fall forward, slightly obscuring his face. “You have a savior complex,” he argued. “You’re an alpha who stumbled upon a crying omega. At a hospital.”

“I don’t adhere to the societal expectations of my secondary sex, Delaney. You make me laugh and I like that.”

Swallowing thickly, Delaney awkwardly changed the subject. “Where’s the cake?”

“I’ll be back.” I pushed away from the table to disappear into the kitchen and returned with one slice of cake and two forks. I settled next to Delaney, passing him a fork.

He poked at the cake, musing aloud, “It looks like a normal chocolate cake.”

Reaching over, I plucked the utensil from his hand, holding it deftly between my fingers as I carved off a small sliver. “For all intent and purposes, it is. However, cooking is another form of art. The same way that an artist must carefully blend colors to create that special one they’re looking for is the same way a chef has to select the ingredients. With the right color, the artist’s work is elevated from mediocrity to something breathtaking and emotionally evocative. When a chef can pair together the proper ingredients, a chocolate cake ceases to be ‘a normal chocolate cake’ and becomes more.” I brought the fork to Delaney's mouth, waiting.

He tucked his hair behind his ear again and leaned in, his tongue slowly creeping over his lips to rest underneath the prongs before pulling it forward to wrap his mouth around the utensil. My blood rushed in my veins and my stomach dipped as I watched his plush lips part. A low, satisfied sigh tumbled, end over end, from the back of his throat to hang suspended between us. When he reached for his fork, I reached for his hand, threading our fingers together, and cut off another sliver to feed him.

The red undertones of Delaney’s beautiful complexion were bright. “While we were eating dinner, you named all the dishes before serving them. So, I’m inclined to ask, what’s the name of this cake?”

I smirked, a vibrating chuckle building in my chest as I fed him another bite. “I’m afraid the cake won’t really live up to its name or expectations much longer.”

Delaney eased the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, catching stray crumbs as he stared at me. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Well,” I paused to place the fork on the plate. Gripping the arms of his chair, I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low, throaty whisper, “It’s called ‘Better than’.”

Delaney inhaled deeply, his breath catching in his throat. Despite being at home, I wore my choker, keeping my scent glands completely covered. Thankfully, the material neutralized my pheromones to an almost non-existent state, but they weren’t one hundred percent foolproof. As my scent crept forward, notes of longing and barely restrained arousal thickened in the minuscule space between us. I noticed Delaney’s eyelids becoming heavy, and his gaze becoming unfocused, yet he didn’t react like anyone else. His speech was slightly slurred, as if he’d just surpassed tipsy. I found that to be equal parts intriguing and tantalizing. His voice registered barely above a whisper. “Why won’t it live up to the expectations any longer?”

“Because there’s nothing I, or anyone else for that matter, can bake that would be better than what I’m planning to do to you.” I didn’t give Delaney a chance to respond before offering him another bite of cake.

His breathing became labored as I leaned in to remove a crumb from his bottom lip. I brought my thumb to my mouth, licking the remnants of the dessert from the pad. Holding his chin between my thumb and forefinger, I leaned in, closing the distance. Instinctively, Delaney tilted his chin up, his lips already parting in anticipation, and when our mouths met, he sighed into the kiss.

Tension concentrated in my gut, my stomach muscles pulling taut. Desire burned in my veins, my pheromones creeping forward to blend with his mouthwatering scent. Where Delaney was impatient and moved with urgency, I took my time, wanting to savor every second of this unfolding moment. I eased my hand up his arm and over his shoulder to tangle in his hair while the other gripped his hip, the gentle flexing and tugging of my fingers guiding him to his feet. Each kiss grew more fevered, more passionate, as I made my way from his mouth to his jawline, and finally to his neck, allowing my tongue and mouth to glide across his heated skin. The bite of his nails digging into my biceps sent blood rushing between my thighs. His head fell back, allowing me more access, and when my lips came together above his gland, Delaney moaned loudly and without shame.