Anastasia's head felt like it had been stomped on by a herd of wild horses. She groaned, barely cracking her eyes open, and immediately regretted it. The sunlight sliced through the curtains like a blade, making her headache pound harder. Her mouth was dry as hell, her body sore in places she didn't even know could feel sore. And worst of all—she had no clue where she was.
Her fingers instinctively wiped away a line of drool at the corner of her mouth, and as she shifted, something soft crinkled beneath her cheek. A pillow. Not hers. The sheets smelled unfamiliar—like cologne and mischief. Her heart picked up pace. This wasn't her room.
Panic jolted her fully awake, and she sat up too fast. Bad move. The room spun, her vision blurring for a moment. When it cleared, she took in the space around her. The bed was huge, the walls a deep charcoal, and expensive-looking furniture lined the room. A note caught her eye on the nightstand.
Drink the water, nibble the muffin, then take the tablet. Love, D.
D?
Her stomach twisted. No. No way.
Before she could process it, the sound of running water stopped. A door creaked open, and a cloud of steam billowed out from the ensuite. And then—
Dylan.
Standing there, dripping wet, a towel slung dangerously low around his hips. His chest was glistening, the sharp lines of his muscles flexing as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as if he were a Baywatch lifeguard.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," he smirked. "How's the headache?"
Anastasia choked on her breath. Her head snapped down to what she was wearing—not her clothes. A loose T-shirt, clearly too big for her, and soft joggers that smelled like him.
"Whose clothes are these, Dylan?" she demanded, her voice a mix of sleep and barely contained panic.
"Mine," he said, pulling open a drawer like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Her stomach dropped. "And how, exactly, did I end up in your clothes?"
Dylan glanced up with a cocky smirk, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Relax, sweetheart. Rosie and Billy changed you. I was banished from the room." He crossed the space between them in two strides, plucking the muffin straight from her fingers and taking a massive bite. "Mmm. Good muffin."
Anastasia smacked his arm. "Dylan! Focus!"
He chewed, completely unbothered. "You collapsed. Lucky for you, some mystery guy caught you before you hit the ground. He carried you to my car, made sure you were safe, then vanished like some guardian angel."
A chill ran down her spine.
Dylan flopped onto the bed next to her, propping himself up on an elbow, way too close. His lips twitched. "So, now that you're awake and alert, how about another kiss?"
Anastasia's entire body went rigid. "Another?"
He wiggled his brows. "The first one was incredible, but I was being a gentleman and didn't take advantage of a vulnerable girl. Now that you're fine, I think it's only fair we revisit it."
Her jaw dropped. "Not. In. Your. Wildest. Dreams. I don't even remember the first one, so it doesn't count." Despite the fact that the first kiss had been incredible and he looked so good right now, she wasn't about to let Dylan know that. She definitely wasn't going to do it again—she hoped.
"You know, your sassy attitude just makes me want you even more. Maybe you should beg me for a kiss or something, so I can have the opposite effect," he said confidently.
"Ha! Yeah, right," Anastasia replied sarcastically as she hurried from bed to the door. Dylan was quicker, though. He took hold of her arm, whirled her around and threw her back into the bed.
She fought, beating his chest with her palms as he hovered over her. "Dylan, get off me!" she squealed.
"Shh, I just want to talk," he whispered.
"Then talk and let me go."
"I know you're attracted to me, just as I am to you. Am I wrong?" he whispered, his lips grazing against her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't help but let out a small moan, which made him grin widely.
"You're dead wrong," she lied, trying to hide her reaction. Her eyes widened as he trailed his hand up her leg to her thigh, causing her breath to catch.
"Am I?" he asked in a seductive whisper before kissing her neck.
"Yes," she breathed out, closing her eyes as he went from kissing to devouring her neck. She felt his hard arousal pressing against her thighs and she felt a hunger she hadn't felt in a long time. Her eyes snapped open, guilt washing over her as she felt she was betraying him.
She began to reply, "Wait—" but all reason vanished from her head as Dylan met her with dark eyes filled with desire.
"Do you want me to stop?" He whispered seductively.
After she shook her head subtly, without another word, Dylan closed the gap between them as his lips crashing onto hers with a fierce and devouring hunger. The kiss was urgent, all-consuming, like they were both starving for each other's touch and their sexual tension became palpable. He held her face in his hands trying to keep her head steady as their mouths moved against each other with a feverish intensity.
Anastasia was almost reluctant but gave in to her passion tangling her fingers in his hair as she pulled him closer to her. Their kiss was raw and contained a fusion of need and desire that made both of them breathless.
Dylan's fingers traced over the sides of her arms, causing shivers to run down her spine as he started to examine her body with a fresh fascination. With a light and inquisitive touch, he let his hand to fall lower and follow the contour of her waist. Every action was slow and purposeful, allowing her every chance to react.
With every gentle stroke, their familiarity grew until the room felt as though it was holding its breath. Dylan's fingers moved up her side, barely brushing against her clothing. The closer he got to more vulnerable areas, the more cautious and attentive his touch became. He was not going fast, but rather, his movements were measured and filled with anticipation and concern for her welfare.
His fingertips found her most intimate areas, causing Anastasia's breath to catch in her throat. She felt a warm, fluttering feelings throughout her body with the light touches from his fingertips that lingered over to a more sensitive place which made the overwhelming desire rising between them increase as Dylan kept looking at her, his face a gentle mixture of affection and longing. His fingers danced delicately over her panties, as if he needed her silent consent before advancing into her centre. She raised her hips, quietly granting him the permission he needed, and their eyes locked, overflowing with passion and want. He observed as his hand slowly made its way towards her centre beneath her underwear.
His fingers moved deeper, playing skilfully with her sensitive clit, making her core swell with want. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure. He couldn't resist becoming even more excited, kissing her passionately while inserting a second finger and starting to move his hand in a rhythm that gave her the utmost pleasure.
"You are fucking stunning," he whispered, breaking the kiss momentarily before diving back in, fully consumed by their passion.
With one hand still exploring her most sensitive areas, he devoured her mouth until she was on the brink of climax. As she reached her climax, she had to use her hand to stifle her screams as she drove her nails into his back.
"That's it, Baby girl," he said, unable to control his own desire, "Come for me."
He took her hand away and let her moan freely into his lips while his tongue worked over every part of her mouth.
He moaned, "I want you so bad," as her climax subsided and she struggled for breath from the intense pleasure.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The door rattled under the force of the knocks and someone attempted to open the door, causing their bodies to tense in panic.