Their lips collided, not soft or hesitant, but desperate and raw. It wasn't a kiss born of romance or tenderness—it was fire and fury, a clash of everything unsaid, everything denied.
Lucien's hands found her waist, steadying her as she pressed closer. His grip tightened, as though he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.
The bond between them flared, a surge of heat and emotion that left Taryn breathless. She poured everything into the kiss—her anger, her fear, her need for something real in a world that constantly tried to break her.
Lucien responded in kind, his movements no longer cautious but urgent. His lips moved against hers, fierce and unrelenting, as though he was trying to tell her everything he couldn't put into words.
Her world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the way his breath mingled with hers. It wasn't gentle—it was consuming, each moment searing itself into her like a brand.
