Don't Do It

E i g h t e e n

Warning: This chapter consists of graphic sexual imagery.

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•Arianna's POV•

With my head resting on my soft pillow, I sleep peacefully on my bed, the duvet ending by my waist. I roll onto my other side, yawning, when I hear a tap on my bedroom window.

I wake up instantly, the darkness surrounding me. Without making a sound, I remove the duvet from my body and get out of bed. I'm not going to turn on the light because the person may run away.

I went to sleep at eight o' clock, which was about an hour ago, and there's already someone trying to break into my room.

Thank God I'm a badass fighter.

In my short nightdress, I slowly tiptoe towards the large window, wishing I had x-ray vision and could see through the curtain.

Note to self: eat more carrots.

I realise the person must've climbed up the oak tree to get to my room since it's upstairs.

My fists are the only things I have as a weapon, compared to a gun and knife. I'm not scared because I know how to use them well. All I'm hoping for is that the person is a man; I like a challenge.

Another tap can be heard. The thief, I'm guessing, lifts the window so they can get in. Unfortunately for me, it opens, and I mentally kick myself for not locking it shut before sleeping.

A gust of cold air enters the room as the person moves the curtain out of their way and jumps through the window, sliding it down afterwards.

"Touch me and you're dead." I warn in a low voice, since I don't want to wake up the rest of the family, my hair tied in a messy bun. I attempt to figure out who the person is, but it's impossible to do so in the dark.

"Relax, babe, it's me."

"Dylan Hunters?"

I squint my eyes to get a better look, and it is in fact my boyfriend. His muscular figure and height make it obvious. Well I got my wish since it's a man. My man.

"Duh. Is there any other Dylan you know?" he jokes, and takes off his hoodie. He throws it beside my bed while I giggle, smiling. "Nope. You're my one and only."

He steps forward, extending his arm and clutching on to my wrist.

Pulling me into his broad chest, he kisses me without warning. I can't stop myself from getting intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. It's musky and now that he's no longer wearing his hoodie, the scent is stronger.

Why do guys have to smell so good?

The kiss is rough and fast---probably because he's angry---yet I like it. His hands roam down my body, outlining my curves, and I snake my arms around his neck.

Diving my tongue into his mouth, I moan softly when he cups my ass before squeezing it gently. His hands go up my back, our tongues wrestling in each other's mouths, and he lifts my nightdress only slightly.

I shudder.

I'm not entirely sure if he did it on purpose or by accident, but knowing Dylan, it was definitely his intention. He wants to feel each and every part of my body, and I'll allow him to.

We move backwards, still kissing, until Dylan lays me down on my bed, his body hovering over mine. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his hot breath fanning my face.

His goddamn voice is so raspy, I rub my legs in an effort to stop the moisture from seeping out of my pussy. It doesn't help.

"I came here to talk but then you enticed me with your sexiness, and here we are."