Third Person’s POV
Rowan’s kiss did not soften. If anything, it grew harsher, unyielding, demanding, edged with something dangerously close to punishment. There was no room for hesitation in it, no gentle testing of boundaries. It was the kind of kiss that stripped breath away, that forced reaction whether it was welcomed or not.
Liora’s fingers curled instinctively into the fabric at his chest, not pulling him closer, not pushing him away, caught somewhere in between. Her pulse hammered wildly beneath her skin.
“Rowan—” she tried, but the sound dissolved against his mouth.
He broke the kiss only to lower himself suddenly, one knee touching the ground before her, his hands braced at her sides as if anchoring himself there. The movement was abrupt enough to steal the air from
