HERA
Atticus’s lips crashed onto mine with a ferocity that sent a shock wave through my body. His hand at the nape of my neck held me firmly in place, fingers digging into my skin as if he feared I’d try to pull away.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
My mind screamed at me to shove him away, to stop this, but my body betrayed me—melting into him, welcoming the heat of his touch with a desperation that I loathed.
What the hell is this hunger for him?
The kiss was wild, a battle of teeth and tongues as his anger bled into every harsh movement. He tasted like fury and bitterness, each stroke of his tongue against mine leaving a searing imprint of frustration.
It was a kiss that screamed of everything we didn’t feel for each other, all the hate we threw at each other and the hunger we tried
