The dream was thick with warm steam.
Water poured from the shower head. Damon had Selena pinned against the slick tile wall with one arm.
She had none of her usual coldness, none of her defenses. Her head tipped back, water tracing the elegant line of her throat. That faint scent, sharpened by the heat, mixed with the steam and flooded his senses.
Damon's reason snapped clean through.
He lowered his head and kissed her hard. Gone was his usual restraint; his movements were rough, heavy with the desire that he had suppressed too long. Selena didn't push him away. Instead, she tipped up her chin and kissed him back.
The soaked shirt was torn away and dropped onto the flooded floor. Damon held her firmly by the waist, lifted her, and pressed her against the cold tiles.
The bathroom echo
