Rafe's POV
Her lips were fire against mine, defiant yet trembling with something she refused to name. I deepened the kiss, tilting my head and sliding my mouth harder over hers until her muffled protest turned into a soft gasp. That single sound broke through me like a spark in dry wood.
She clutched at my shirt, fisting the fabric as though she wanted to push me away, yet her grip pulled me closer instead. My hands tightened at her waist, feeling the fragile rise and fall of her breath as I pressed her firmly against the glass. The cold surface at her back only made the warmth of her body burn hotter beneath my touch.
When her lips parted, I took the opening without hesitation, sliding my tongue past her resistance to taste her fully. She met me with surprising fierceness, her tongue tangling with mine in a reckless battle neither of us seemed willing to end. It was wild, messy, nothing like restraint—an explosion of years of hate, fury, and something we didn't wish to name.
