Aria whimpered, her fingers tangling frantically in his messy silver hair. She dragged him closer, her knees digging into the leather bench on either side of his thighs. He tasted like expensive mint and absolute desperation.
Damien's hands moved from her hips, sliding frantically up her sides to find a way underneath the red silk and black satin of her dress. He found the edge of the bodice and tried to push it down, but the fabric refused to budge.
He moved to her back, his fingers blindly searching the spine for a hook, a zipper, a button—anything.
"Aria," Damien growled against her jaw, his breathing ragged as his fingers met an impenetrable wall of fashion tape and tightly sewn stitches. "How do I get this off?"
Aria let out a breathless laugh, kissing the side of his neck. "I told you. You can't. It's pinned and taped to my actual ribcage."
