Aria's POV
"Damian—"
"Shh." He bit the side of my throat, not gentle, and pushed one thick finger inside me. Then a second.
My p***y clenched hard around him; a helpless sound tore out of my mouth. He f****d them into me in deep, deliberate strokes while his c**k ground against my ass, smearing more wetness across my skin. "I've been hard for you all night. I'm done waiting."
He walked me forward like that—fingers buried in me, chest glued to my back—into the bathroom.
The tub was already filling, steam thick in the air. Opposite it, a full-length mirror ran the width of the wall—impossible to ignore.
Damian had that mirror installed himself.
Not for decorating. Not for getting dressed. He'd said it outright the day the workmen left, mouth against my ear, hand alread
