“Technically, I-I’m not in full possession of my faculties until I’ve had my second cup of coffee,” I stuttered. I wasn’t sure why I was saying that, weakly trying to argue against him kissing me.

I had been imagining this man kissing me ever since I laid eyes on him. But now I was stalling. Because I was scared. Terrified of what kissing him might mean. I was sure, utterly sure, that once he kissed me, nothing would ever be the same again.

Rowan didn’t kiss me, though. His grip on my hip tightened some, his other hand clasping the back of my neck.

“You want me to kiss you or not, cupcake?”

The ground rocked underneath me as the question bounced around in my head. I scrambled to grab a hold of it so I could keep it, revisit it later, file this moment away.

“I would very much like for you to kiss me,” I said, so quietly I wasn’t certain he’d heard me.

Apparently, he did because the second the words were out, his mouth was on mine.

I thought he’d kiss me gently at first. Ever since he saw the bruise on my face, he’d been handling me with great care. Like I was breakable.

But he wasn’t doing that now.

Our lips crashed together, his tongue plunging into my mouth, hand at my hip yanking our bodies as close as possible.

I clutched on to the sides of his jacket, holding on for dear life and kissing him with a kind of ferocity and hunger I hadn’t known was inside me.

I’d never been kissed like this before in my life. A kiss had never made me feel like this.

Like I was being claimed. Like I’d be on my deathbed and still taste him, feel him.

A little moan escaped from the back of my throat, needing more, anxious to get rid of the layers of fabric separating us. I needed his naked body. Needed to drag my fingertips over the peaks and valleys of his muscles.

I slipped my hands underneath his tee, reaching around him to do just that.

Rowan lifted me up, a growl rattling his chest. I didn’t hesitate to wrap my legs around his hips, raking my nails down the skin of his back. Not hard enough to puncture it, of course. Though I did have an unfamiliar need to do that. To draw his blood.

That was not something I’d ever been in to. Any kind of violence, any kind of rough sex... Maybe I’d never trusted a man enough to give in to that particular desire.

The way Rowan was kissing me, holding me—just to the point of pain—gave me the inkling that he would be into the rougher kind of sex. And that soaked my panties even further.

I was ready for it. For him. To take me right there. On the trunk of my car.

But he obviously was thinking clearer, detaching then resting his forehead against mine.