The Billionaire’s Dead Wife Returned
he hissed, his grip on my wrists tightening just enough to anchor me.
He leaned down, his mouth crashing onto mine with a bruising, desperate hunger that stole the remaining air from my lungs. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was an explosive, intoxicating collision of teeth and lips, laced with a raw, terrifying passion that sent a blinding jolt of heat straight to my core. I gasped into his mouth, my fingers instantly untangling from his grip to wrap tightly into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as I kissed him back with an equal, desperate fury. For a single, breathless minute, the cold arguments and the distance melted into pure, unfiltered electricity, proving that beneath his ice