Camilla's POV...
His mouth crashed into mine before I could draw another breath. The kiss wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful. It was punishment—a collision of need so raw it felt like breaking and rebuilding all at once.
My lips stung under the assault of his. He sucked my lower lip between his teeth and bit—a sharp, deliberate pressure that forced a gasp from my throat, a gasp he swallowed whole.
I tasted copper, the faint metallic tang of my own blood. That pain bloomed into a wildfire low in my belly, a throbbing heat that had me grinding against the hard line of his thigh.
My hands fisted in the thin cotton of his hospital gown. The fabric wrinkled audibly, a rough, dry sound beneath my fingers. Beneath it, I felt the unyielding bulk of bandages, the stiff edges of medical tape guarding his wound.
