After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 193: My Only Cure is Titties

The master bathroom was a sprawling sanctuary of imported black marble, currently completely swallowed by a thick, suffocating cloud of white steam.

Aria rushed through the door, completely bare, clutching her velvet pouch of silver acupuncture needles like a lifeline.

Through the dense fog, she spotted Damien. He was lying back in the massive, freestanding soaking tub in the center of the room. The water level was high, covering his chest. A thick white hand towel was folded over his eyes, shielding them from the harsh vanity lights.

He was completely still, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. He had already scrubbed his face entirely clean of the sallow, sickly foundation the Devereaux twins had plastered on him.

Aria set the velvet pouch down on the small marble side table next to the tub.

She caught her reflection in the massive vanity mirror. Her body was naked, but her face still belonged to the frumpy, tragically boring woman. There was absolutely no way she was getting into a romantic bath with the love of her life looking like she filed taxes for a living.

Moving with frantic efficiency, Aria grabbed her expensive cleansing balm. She aggressively rubbed the oil over her dry face, melting away the terrible beige lipstick and the straight, blocky eyebrows. She followed it up with a rapid water-based foaming cleanser, doing a full double-cleanse in under sixty seconds.

She patted her face dry with a hand towel. Her skin was glowing, flushed, and entirely her own again.

Aria grabbed a small glass dropper bottle of pure jasmine essential oil from the floating shelf and walked over to the tub.

She squeezed a few generous drops into the steaming water. The rich, intoxicating floral aroma hit the air instantly, cutting through the sterile scent of the steam.

Damien didn’t shift, but his breathing hitched slightly at the scent.

Aria gripped the edge of the tub and dipped her toes into the water.

She instantly recoiled, biting down hard on her lower lip to suppress a shriek.

’Holy shit,’ Aria mentally screamed. ’He is literally boiling himself alive!’

The water was scalding hot. It was Damien’s extreme, borderline-psychotic method of physically burning the memory of the bus germs off his epidermis.

Aria took a deep, steadying breath. She loved this man. She loved him enough to brave third-degree burns.

Bracing herself, Aria stepped fully into the tub.

She winced, a sharp hiss escaping her teeth as she lowered her body into the liquid fire, the water rising up to her waist. Her pale skin immediately turned a beautiful, flushed shade of pink.

Hearing the splash, Damien slowly reached up and pulled the white towel off his eyes.

He blinked, his golden eyes adjusting to the light. They landed on Aria.

The exhausted, pained tension tight around his eyes vanished in a fraction of a second. He looked at her wet, rose-gold hair piled on top of her head. He looked at her bare, scrubbed-clean face, flushed a deep, vibrant pink from the heat.

He looked at her like she had personally hung the moon in the sky.

"You’re so beautiful," Damien breathed.

"I’m literally sweating," Aria laughed softly, wading through the water to position herself directly between his spread legs. "Why are you trying to slow-cook us like a pot roast?"

"I needed to melt the memories of the past few hours off my skin," Damien grumbled, though his eyes never left her face. "But seeing you like this... it helps. My headache is already receding."

He reached out, his wet hands gripping her waist to pull her closer until she was straddling his lap.

"I hated that brown wig," Damien confessed, his hands sliding up her sides. "I had to actively imagine your face the entire time. It was the only thing getting me through the day."

Aria’s heart executed a soft, fluttering leap against her ribs. She brought her hands up, cupping his wet, sharp jawline, forcing him to look directly into her emerald eyes.

"Does it still hurt?" Aria whispered, her thumbs brushing his cheekbones.

"A little," Damien murmured.

Aria settled fully onto his lap, their bodies pressing completely flush together. Her wet breasts brushed against the hard planes of his chest.

But it wasn’t just his chest she felt.

Pressed definitively against the soft curve of her stomach, sitting right beneath the water, was the thick, unyielding, rock-hard ridge of his erection.

Aria’s eyes widened slightly. She looked at the tight lines of lingering pain around his eyes, and then glanced pointedly down at the water between them.

"Damien," Aria teased, a playful smirk touching her lips. "Aren’t you sick? How is this even happening?"

"It’s a biological response to my gorgeous wife sitting naked on my lap," Damien replied shamelessly, his golden eyes darkening with a familiar heat.

He noticed the way she subtly shifted her weight, trying to keep her upper body slightly out of the scalding water. Despite his desperate need to boil himself clean, Damien didn’t hesitate.

He reached blindly behind him, gripping the heavy chrome dial of the faucet and twisting it to the cold setting.

A rush of cool water spilled into the tub, rapidly lowering the boiling temperature into something soothing and comfortable for her skin.

"You didn’t have to do that," Aria whispered.

"I’m not letting you burn," Damien murmured.

He lifted her hand from his jaw, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the center of her palm. He didn’t stop there. He trailed wet kisses all the way up the inside of her forearm, sending a violent shiver straight down her spine.

He pulled her down, claiming her lips in a deep, consuming kiss.

Aria kissed him back, melting against him, but as his hand slid down to grip her hip and pull her tighter against his aching length, she forced herself to pull away.

She placed her hands flat against his chest, creating an inch of space.

"Ah ah," Aria scolded gently, tapping his nose with her index finger. "I am a medical professional now. We have rules. Cure first, sex later."

Damien chuckled, the sound vibrating against her chest. He looked at her, his expression softening into something incredibly raw and vulnerable.

"If I had known this was the treatment plan," Damien whispered, tracing the line of her collarbone with his thumb, "I would have let you cure me the night we met."

Aria paused, smiling at the memory of their first meeting. She had broken into his heavily guarded hotel suite, holding him at needle-point to force him into a contract marriage.

"You were a lot meaner back then," Aria reminded him.

"I was an idiot," Damien confessed, his golden eyes locking onto hers with a sincerity that made her breath hitch. "Aria, even if we were to somehow get a do-over at life... I would pray to every god available that you would sneak into my room and blackmail me into marrying you in every single lifetime."

Aria’s heart completely melted. A hot, stinging wave of tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

"Stop saying sweet things to distract me," Aria sniffled, a wet laugh escaping her.

Aria turned her head, finally reaching the velvet pouch on the table.

As her fingers brushed the silver needles, Damien’s large, wet hands suddenly slid up from her waist. His palms firmly and unapologetically cupping her bare breasts. His thumbs brushed deliberately over her hardened nipples.

Aria gasped, her body jerking in surprise, the velvet pouch slipping from her fingers.

"Doctor," Damien asked, his voice dropping into a husky purr. "Are you absolutely certain that licking these instead wouldn’t make me feel better?"