The kiss came out like a storm that swept her away and left her breathless.
The next, his hands were in her hair, her fists clutching his shirt like a lifeline, and their mouths met with a desperation that felt like breaking through the surface after drowning.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle.
It was a collision—of grief, of fury, of a thousand unsaid things. His lips were warm, demanding, like fire after frost, and when she kissed him back, the world tipped sideways. Her knees buckled slightly, but he caught her, held her like he'd never let go again.
She felt the pressure of his mouth, the slide of his hand down her spine, the way he breathed her name like a vow between every touch. Her mind spun, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. She was dizzy, not from lack of air, but from the sheer force of it.
And still, it deepened. Slower now, slower but more intense like thunder rolling in the distance after the lightning has struck.
