Aria didn’t ask for permission. She didn’t need to. And even if she had, I don’t think I would’ve found the strength to deny her.
But still… I hesitated—not because I didn’t want her. God, I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. I hesitated because I was afraid. Afraid that she would regret this. That I would fail her, again.
Her voice had barely left her lips—“I need you”—before her soft mouth pressed against my neck, a trail of tender kisses silencing every rational thought in my head. Her scent was overwhelming. Sweet honey laced with something warmer, more desperate. It clung to my skin, filled my lungs, and blurred the line between need and restraint.
And when she climbed onto my lap, not a word spoken, her robe falling in a soft whisper to the floor, I knew t
