Lorenzo didn't give her time to fight back. His mouth crashed down upon hers with savage, hungry mastery. The kiss was an assault on every sense. It was hot, bruising, and tasted of peat-smoked whiskey and dark, forbidden lust. Lorenzo's tongue forced her lips apart with a low growl, sweeping inside to claim her mouth as if it were a territory won by blood. Isla gasped, fighting against him, her…
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