Cierra:
Dominic’s mouth crashed back to mine the instant the door slammed, his weight pressing me into the wood, his hands gripping my thighs so tight I gasped. The sound only made him growl low in his chest, the vibration rumbling against my skin.
“Mine,” he rasped, the word hot against my lips. His mouth trailed down my throat, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, and every scrape sent sparks ricocheting through me.
My fingers fumbled at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up with frantic desperation. He tore it over his head without breaking our kiss, tossing it somewhere across the room. My hands flattened against the hard planes of his chest, nails dragging over muscle, feeling the way he shuddered at my touch.
The grief was still there, clawing at my chest—but it burned now, transmuted i
