Aria's POV
Damian's hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my kiss-swollen lower lip.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, "and I will."
I should. We were in a car, for god's sake, parked on some random side street. This was insane.
But the way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, like he'd been starving and I was sustenance—made rational thought impossible.
"Don't stop," I whispered.
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "Say it again."
"Don't stop, Damian. Please don't—"
He kissed me again, and this time there was nothing gentle about it. His mouth was demanding, possessive, claiming me with an intensity that made my head spin.
His hands moved to my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. I helped him shrug it
