Aria pov
I shifted slightly against him and felt it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against my thigh through the hospital gown. Heat flooded through me, pooling low in my belly.
"Seriously, Damien?" I lifted my head to look at him, trying to sound stern. "You're supposed to be sick."
His ice-blue eyes were darker now, pupils dilated. "I am sick." His hand slid from my hip to cup my ass, pulling me tighter against him. "Sick with wanting you. It's been killing me all day."
The hospital gown did nothing to hide how hard he was. I could feel every inch of him pressed against me, hot and insistent. My breath caught.
"The nurses could walk in," I whispered, even as my body betrayed me, pressing closer.
"I don't care." His other hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. "Let them see, let everyone see that you're mine."
