With You┃Dylan O'Brien ⓵

Chapter Thirty-One : Keep Going

Dylan and I, hand-in-hand, finally get back to our luxurious hotel building where his mood seems entirely unwavering. The two of us wait in the lobby before the elevators with quite a crowd of other people who've decided to come back as well.

When the bell dings and the doors open, my boyfriend heads almost immediately to a back corner of the elevator and pulls me to him with my back pressed against his front, his hands wrapping around my waist from behind. I guess he's making room, and maybe he wants to hold me close.

As I stand here, the two of us still clad in our swimsuits, I can suddenly and unmistakably feel the stiff evidence of his current mood pressing against my very lower back. So that's what he is. He's just... excited, to put it lightly. I smile to myself discreetly and ever so slightly begin swaying my lower body back and forth, just to mess with him.

After a moment, his grip on me tightens considerably, preventing me from being able to continue the action. I bite my tongue to stifle a snicker. This is amusing. But at the same time I can't deny the fact that some of his excitement is rubbing off on me...

No pun intended, seriously.

We stop at several different floors, people eagerly stepping out of the fairly crowded elevator. The ride to our floor seems to take forever and a day, as it is one of the top floors. Then finally we make it to floor 37.

When the tall, shiny doors open to reveal the carpeted hallway, I swiftly grab his large hand and pull him after me as we journey down the hallway. He takes a singular opportunity to smack my butt and gives it a good squeeze before removing his hand.

When I turn back to look at him with a smirk on my face, I assume his to have a humorous look upon it. But I am surprised to find that as he looks me directly in the eyes, his expression is entirely serious. Intense, even. Upon seeing his face, I turn back around with slightly wide eyes, while I think, "Oh, well, this is a first, he's really feeling it, okay, wow."

We reach our room door where I produce the card key from my purse, meanwhile my boyfriend stands with his nearly bare body right against my back, breathing hot air onto my neck and giving me shivers. Something's really gotten to him tonight; he's never quite been like this before. I unlock the door and before I know it, we're both inside and Dylan's shutting the door.

As he turns back toward me I smirk at him, "Baby, what's gotten you feeling like this?"

But as before, his face shows no humor and I get chills when he approaches me and in a husky voice says, "You."

Gently but firmly he pushes me against the wall, immediately crashing his soft and eager lips against my own. He kisses me fiercely and feverishly, but I don't have a difficult time keeping up. Our kisses get faster until they are indistinguishable from one another, and we find ourselves in an intense make out session unlike any other we've had before.

Dylan's hands, in great contrast to his mouth, are moving slower and at a steady pace. First they rest at my waist with his thumbs drawing sensual circles just above my hip bones, before they trace further down on my back, grabbing onto his prized possession as though his life depends on it.

My hands are very happy hands because they get to freely explore the length of Dylan's body, which is such a treat. Other than his obviously well-toned stomach, I live for his muscular biceps and shoulders. Why have I never noticed how amazing his shoulders are? Ugh, this is crazy.

The two of us, our sexual activity in the past has been a little modest. Neither of us have ever seen what our swimsuits are covering, though they have on occasion been touched by hands and hands only. I have the feeling that this may change tonight.