Grace didn't fight, didn't resist—she merely lay there, waiting for the inevitable, her breathing shallow, her hands clenched into weak, trembling mess as it tried to cover her modesty.
It was simply not enough.
Ross chuckled under his breath.
He had seen this kind of defiance before—the kind that wasn't truly defiance at all.
She thought ignoring him, shutting herself away, would change anything.
She thought it would make her less desirable, less enticing.
How foolish.
Without warning, he captured her lips.
"Mmmph—!"
Grace's eyes flew open, her body tensing in shock.
The moment their lips met, she felt the heat, the power, the overwhelming dominance in his kiss.
He was rough, demanding, taking what he wanted without hesitation.
His lips moved against hers with intoxicating control, pressing, sucking, tasting—sealing her breath inside his mouth.
She whimpered, hands pushing weakly against his chest, but he was unmoved.
