Olivia's POV
It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was raw, desperate, furious. His mouth claimed mine with an urgency that sent a jolt through my entire body. Heat flared between us, burning away the cold night air.
I gasped against his lips, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing past my lips—demanding, conquering. This kiss was different, so different from the one we shared at the altar. That kiss had been forced, a public display. But this… this was possessive, overwhelming, and undeniably my first real kiss.
His hands cradled my face as if trying to ground himself at this moment.
I hated him.
I hated him for kissing me like this. For making my body betray me.
For making me feel.
But I didn't stop him.
I kissed him back, matching his intensity, letting my anger, my pain, my frustration pour into it. If he wanted to shut me up, if he wanted to silence my words, then fine. But he would also feel every ounce of rage I had buried inside me.