After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 225: How To Take Off Husband’s Pants

With a hollow clink, Damien set the empty bottle of vintage Cabernet down on the glass coffee table.

They had decimated the pasta, the wine, and any lingering shreds of their sobriety.

Aria pushed herself up off Damien’s lap. She swayed on her feet for a second, the warm buzz of the alcohol washing over her brain.

Aria grabbed the empty wine bottle by the neck, using it as a makeshift microphone. "Testing, testing. Is this thing on?" she tapped the glass.

"Watch and learn, Mr. Sinclair," Aria announced, her words slurring just the tiniest bit as she pointed the bottle at him. "I am about to show you why I am a certified seduction expert."

Damien leaned back against the plush hotel sofa. His bespoke suit jacket and tie were long gone, his white dress shirt completely unbuttoned to his navel.

A goofy, boyish grin spread across his face. "I’m watching, expert. Dazzle me."

Aria attempted a slow, hypnotic body roll to a sexy, bass-heavy R&B track that was currently only playing in her own head. In reality, her coordination was completely shot. It looked like she was trying to dodge an invisible laser beam.

She capped the performance off with a dramatic hair flip that threw her completely off balance, sending her stumbling forward to aggressively boop him right on the nose with her own nose.

Damien let out a rich laugh that echoed in the quiet suite.

"Don’t laugh at my art!" Aria scolded, fighting a grin of her own as she pushed herself back upright.

She reached down, grabbing the hem of the blood-red lace nightgown. With a dramatic, breathless sigh, she pulled the fabric upward, intending to whip it over her head and toss it onto the coffee table in one fluid, cinematic motion.

The lace cleared her waist. It cleared her breasts.

And then, it snagged on top of her head.

Aria froze, her arms stuck in the air, the red lace securely hooked around her ears and her face. She tugged. The lace didn’t budge. She pulled harder, letting out a frustrated groan.

She stood there in the middle of the living room, completely topless from the neck down, but wearing a red lace sack on her head.

Ten seconds passed.

Aria blindly reached out, fully intending to stroke his muscular bicep to keep the sensual mood alive. Instead, her hands found the hard wooden edge of the coffee table, which she began to caress sensually.

"Wow, your muscles feel so... stiff today," she purred into the dark.

Then, realization dawned.

"Damien," Aria’s muffled voice echoed from inside the nightgown. "The lace has claimed me. Save me."

Damien tipped his head back against the couch cushions, laughing so hard his broad shoulders shook.

He reached forward, grabbing her by her bare waist. With a gentle, effortless tug, he pulled her down. They tumbled together onto the plush, thick hotel rug. Damien smoothly rolled her under him, bracing his weight on his forearms, and easily popped the tangled lace off her head, tossing the nightgown across the room.

"You are a hazard to yourself," Damien grinned down at her. "A sexy hazard."

"Shut up and kiss me," Aria demanded. "I want your tongue in my mouth right now."

"Gladly," Damien growled.

He crashed his mouth onto hers. The alcohol had stripped away all their elegance. Aria tangled her hands in his messy silver hair, pulling his head down harder, her hips bucking eagerly against his erection pressing against her bare thighs.

"I’m going to ride your face," Aria blurted out breathlessly against his lips.

Damien groaned, "I want to taste all of you."

Aria’s hands frantically descended to his waist. She easily unfastened his leather belt, tossing it onto the rug. But when she got to the waistband of his expensive, custom-tailored suit trousers, she hit a brick wall.

The clasp was some sort of hidden Italian metal riddle. There was a hook, a secondary button, and a zipper. Her fingers fumbled uselessly against his pants.

Frustrated, she leaned down, fully intending to bite the clasp open like a feral romance novel heroine. She just ended up clinking her front teeth painfully against the cold metal.

"Ow! Who made this?!" Aria whined, rubbing her mouth and aggressively tugging at the waistband of his pants. "Damien, how does this open?!"

Damien provided absolutely zero help. He was too busy laughing into the crook of her neck, his hot breath ghosting over her collarbone as he sucked a dark, blooming bruise into her fair skin.

"Figure it out, expert," Damien teased, his voice muffled against her throat. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"Fine!" Aria huffed, her frustration peaking.

She blindly reached her hand up toward the coffee table and snatched Damien’s phone. She shoved the phone directly into his face.

The Face ID immediately unlocked the screen.

Aria brought the phone back down to her chest. She opened the Google search engine app. She clicked the search bar and carefully typed out the letters: G-O-O-G-L-E.

She hit enter. The Google homepage loaded.

Then, she tapped the Google search box and typed: how to take off rich husbands pants hidden hook.

Her thumb slipped. It autocorrected to: how to take out rich husbands plants.

She aggressively hit backspace and tried again.

"Aria," Damien chuckled. "You just Googled ’Google’."

"Yes, how else was I supposed to get to Google, huh?!" Aria argued loudly, tossing the phone onto the rug in defeat. "I give up now. Please take them off!"

Damien finally took pity on her. Still chuckling, he reached down. With one swift, entirely effortless flick of his thumb, the ’complicated’ metal clasp popped open. He shucked the trousers and his boxer briefs down his long legs, but the expensive wool immediately snagged around his ankles.

Damien had to spend ten deeply un-sexy seconds furiously wiggling his feet like an upside-down turtle to finally kick the fabric away into the darkness of the suite.

They were finally naked on the plush rug.