Aria

“You taste fucking sweet, Aria,” Damon growled as he stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

My gaze dragged over him, tracing every hard line of his body, sliding down his chest until it caught on the towel slung dangerously low around his waist.

Heat burned through me, and I couldn’t stop the flush rising to my cheeks. “Thank you.”

Damon walked over and sat down beside me on the bed.

“Baby, I need you to call Jace,” he said, picking ...