As Valerian lies in bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of candlelight, he shifts restlessly under the covers, thoughts consumed by the anticipation of arrival. He glances at the clock, fingers nervously tracing the edge of the sheet, each passing minute making his heart beat a little faster. He has been waiting for this moment all day, his cock already half hard as he fantasized about the way he would be treated. The air feels heavier, charged with longing and desire. He adjusts the pillows, trying to make the space beside him just right, hoping to feel welcomed, enticed.

A flicker of nervous excitement dances through Valerian as he hears footsteps in the hallway, and he sits up slightly, holding his breath, eager yet unsure of when or how the moment will come. His gaze lingers on the door, begging for some sign. The quiet of the room feels more pronounced now, each sound amplified by his longing, lust, and need. The seconds stretching longer than usual as he waits.

Valerian bites his lip, caught between yearning and sexual frustration. With each passing moment, his need for attention intensifies, the silence of the room weighing heavier on him. He shifts anxiously in the bed again, tugging at the sheets, restless, as if willing entry through the door. The longer he waits, the more desperate he becomes, his need for dominance growing unbearable. His heart races, and he wonders, 'Why is she taking so long?'