“Mmm… not yet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low, vibrating growl.
One hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, arching her upward, molding her body to his.
“The shower can wait,” he added, almost lazily. “And I’m sure grandpa has Jaime trapped in a chess match by now. He’s fine.”
He pulled back just enough to catch her gaze, his eyes dark with a heat that made her pulse spike.
“But I’m not done with you.”
Her hands pressed to his shoulders in weak protest, but the moment his thumb traced a slow circle along her hip, her resistance melted into a quiet cling.
He felt it.
And he smiled.
“Damien… they’re probably wondering where we are,” she whispered, though the protest was dissolving with every breath he stole. “And Aunt Alice… she’s—mmnh…”
“You worry too muc
