Damian sat on a sofa in the middle of his bedroom, tapping his foot. Why was he nervous? It wasn’t like this was the first time. Music played in the background, and it was his favourite playlist. He bit his lip and groaned. This was taking too long. He’d been instructed to remove all his clothes and wait, and it had already been fifteen minutes. He was famished. Thinking about what was coming made him harder. He’d been hard all fucking day, but he wasn’t going to rush this. He would make sure she enjoyed it, too. He could do that; he wasn’t a teenager who couldn’t control himself. “Are you rea—”“Yes.”He grimaced and bit his lip. That had been too quick and sounded too needy even to his own ears. But it had been months, damn it. What did she expect?And then there she was, dressed in a white sheer gown and nothing else. Absolutely nothing. The light from the bathroom shone behind her so he could see everything through the material. Every curve, the strip of red, curly hair between
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