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She didn’t get to finish.

He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him.

And then he kissed her.

Not gently. Not sweetly.

He yanked her closer, hand fisted in her hair, and crashed his mouth onto hers.

Hot. Deep. Unapologetic. His lips moved over hers with a hunger that sent a jolt straight through her chest. It wasn’t careful or planned, just pure need poured into every movement. His mouth claimed hers, tongue pushing past her lips like he couldn’t get enough of her taste.

His grip was possessive, like letting her go wasn’t an option. His hand slid down her back, pressing her into him, his body hard and trembling against hers. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, holding on as his kiss grew rougher, wetter, deeper.

He groaned low into her mouth, like the sound had been buried in his chest for too long. His tongue tangled with hers, desperate and reckless, tasting, teasing, devouring. His lips dragged across hers again and again, not slowing down, not softening—just taking.

His lips moved over hers with a madness that couldn’t be tamed.

His heart thundered in his chest. The emotions he’d been burying came rushing to the surface.

‘I miss you so much, Sienna,’ he wanted to say. ‘I wish you’d always care for me like this. Stay by my side. Be mine. Only mine.’

But he couldn’t say the words. He could only show them.

She gasped beneath his kiss, trying to breathe, her hands pushing against his chest. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t.

She struggled for air, her hands pushing against his chest. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to hold her forever. But she pushed harder, and finally—reluctantly—he pulled back. He loosened his grip, pulling back—just barely—his breath coming in ragged pulls. Their lips parted, red and hungry.

Breathless, Sienna dropped her gaze to his injured hand, gently touching it again.

“Let me bandage this properly. There’s too much blood. You’ll ruin your clothes.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Then she met his gaze again, whispering, “This must be really painful.”

Adrian’s hand tightened around hers, his voice hoarse. “It’s not as painful as the hole burning in my chest right now.”

She stared at him, confused. He looked wrecked, twisted with emotions she couldn’t understand.

“What happened to you?” she asked quietly.

His voice came out like a growl. “Where were you last night?”

Her brows furrowed. “Why are you asking that?”

And then she remembered. The Ritzwood hotel card. The invitation to meet at night. Her eyes widened as realization sank in.

“Wait… did you wait for me last night?”

He didn’t reply. His expression gave nothing away.

But his silence screamed the truth.

Her lips parted in disbelief. “You really… waited all night?”

Adrian’s face twisted from quiet sadness into something sharper, darker. His jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened possessively around hers. Then, in one swift move, he reached out and cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer, his eyes smoldering with something that burned beneath the surface.

His deep voice, rough with emotion, vibrated in her chest as he spoke.