When Fire Meets Grace
Rage and longing collided, and before she could stop herself, she grabbed his shirt, fisting it tight, and dragged his mouth down to hers.
The kiss was fire and fury, teeth and tongues clashing, both of them pouring every unspoken truth into it. It wasn’t tender. It wasn’t sweet. It was war.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, Grace’s voice was a rasp. “Damn you, Damien Black.”
His lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “Too late for that, Grace. You’re already mine.”
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