"Dylan, Fuck!!"

"Who could that be?" I murmured in shock, and Dylan paused, his eyes locked with mine.

"Who is that?" Dylan's voice broke the silence, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Is that Mr. White?" the unfamiliar voice on the other side of the door inquired.

"No, you've got the wrong door," Dylan responded, his tone firm yet polite.

"What's your entry pass, sir?" The voice persisted.

"5541," Dylan replied, his gaze briefly leaving the door to meet my eyes as I lay there, emotions flickering across my face.

With a hint of apology in his tone, the voice on the other side of the door retreated, the sound of footsteps fading away. Dylan turned back to me fully, a soft smile playing on his lips. In a silent reassurance, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to my lips, a silent promise of the intimacy that awaited, one that I was anticipating.

After our kiss, Dylan turned me over and guided me to sit on his lap with my leg crossed around him, his back against the bed's headboard. I could feel