Aria pov
"I know."
"Do you believe ?"
I considered the question. My fingers curled against my palm. I watched a plane move across the night sky, its lights blinking red.
"I’m starting to," I admitted finally. "Which terrifies ."
"Why?"
"Because believing in you ans hoping." I turned to face him. His eyes were darker in the dim light, fixed on with an intensity that made my breath catch. "And hope is dangerous because it gets you hurt."
"Not if it’s placed in the right person." He t my eyes. "And I’m going to be that person, Aria. Even if it takes the rest of my life."
"That’s a long ti."
"Not nearly long enough." His hand reached for mine, fingers brushing my wrist before sliding down to lace with my fingers. "Not when it cos to you."
His thumb traced small circles on my palm. The simple touch sent heat spreading up my arm. I let him take my hand, let him pull closer. One step. Then another. Until there was barely any space between us.
"This is a mistake," I whispered.
"Probably." His free hand ca up, fingers sliding along my jaw to cup my face. His touch was warm, gentle. "But I’m willing to make it."
"Damien"
"Just let " He leaned in, his breath ghosting across my lips. "Please."
His other hand moved to my waist, fingers splaying across the silk of my blouse. I could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric.
And this ti, I didn’t pull away. I tilted my face up, closing the last inch between us. His lips t mine. Soft at first, testing. Like he was afraid I might vanish if he pushed too hard.
I made a small sound in the back of my throat—half protest, half surrender. That broke sothing in both of us.
His hand tightened on my waist, pulling flush against him. My hands flew up, fisting in his shirt, the fabric bunching under my grip as I pulled him closer even as my mind scread at to stop.
The kiss deepened. His tongue swept across my lower lip and I opened for him, tasting mint and sothing darker. His hand slid from my jaw into my hair, fingers tangling in the strands, tilting my head back to deepen the angle.
I pressed against him, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the way his heart hamred against mine. His mouth moved over mine like he was trying to morize every sensation. Like he’d been starving for this, for .
I bit his lower lip and he groaned, the sound vibrating through both of us.
"Aria," he breathed against my mouth.
My hands slid under his shirt, finding warm skin and hard muscle. He sucked in a breath when my nails dragged lightly down his abdon.
His hand dropped from my waist to my hip, then lower, gripping my ass and pulling harder against him. I could feel him, hard and thick against my . Heat pooled low in my belly. I rocked against him without thinking, seeking friction, and a moan escaped my lips.
"Fuck," he muttered, his grip tightening. "Easy."
But I did it again, grinding against him, and another moan tore from my throat, louder this ti.
His hand squeezed, then he pulled back just enough to press his forehead to mine, both of us breathing hard.
"Take it easy," he said, voice strained. His thumb traced circles on my hip, trying to soothe even as his other hand still gripped my ass. "Don’t wake the big boy down there."
The absurdity of it—the warning, the care, the fact that we were trying to be quiet—hit all at once. I laughed. A real laugh, slightly breathless, my forehead still pressed to his.
His mouth curved into a smile. "There she is."
"Shut up." But I was still smiling.
"Make ," he challenged, eyes dark with want.
So I kissed him again. Slower this ti but no less intense. His hands road my body—my waist, my back, sliding up my spine and making shiver.
I lost track of ti. Lost track of everything except the taste of him, the feel of his hands, the way he held like I might break and like he never wanted to let go.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he pressed his forehead to mine. His chest heaved against . My legs felt weak.
"I love you," he whispered. "I know you’re not ready to hear it. But I love you, Aria. More than anything."
Tears stread down my face. Hot and fast and unexpected. His thumb caught them, wiping them away with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
"I can’t say it back," I said, voice breaking.
"I know." He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there, warm and soft. "But you will, soday."
"You’re very confident."
"I’m very in love." He wiped away another tear with his thumb, the touch gentle. "And love makes you believe in impossible things."
"Like us?"
"Especially like us." He pulled into his arms, holding close against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong.
I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. Cedar and warmth and sothing that was just him. My hands fisted in his shirt again, holding on like he might disappear if I let go.
His chin rested on top of my head. One hand stroked my hair while the other rubbed slow circles on my back. We stood there in the dim light of my living room, wrapped around each other, the city humming outside. My tears soaked into his shirt but didn’t seem to care.
"Stay," I whispered. The word escaped before I could stop it.
His arms tightened around . "Are you sure?"
I nodded against his chest.
"Just to sleep," he said quietly. "I’m not—I won’t push for more."
"I know."
He pulled back just enough to look at . His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "Then I’ll stay as long as you want to."
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