“I'm going to imprison you in pleasure. Until you're crying. Until you're begging. Until your well kept secrets are on fire and dripping down your thighs. I'm going to crush your sexy resistance with my lips and tongue. And I'm going to be right at your scorching mouth, eating up the sounds of your mind blowing orgasm until you say it-- no, until you scream it. Lucian. Lucian Bane. That's what I want you to scream while I milk the ecstasy from your pretty little soul.”
“desire through my bones and flooded me with reckless needs to tear into her body, mark her so hard and deep that she had to be mine.”
“Many people confuse a Dom personality with a Dom's position of authority. The two are not exactly the same or interchangeable. A true Dom dominates. Plain and simple. And by dominate, we mean does what it takes to get a job done. Even if that means submit.”
“Fuck, baby. I can hear it. I hear all your beautiful secrets in my name. I want them. I want you. All of you. Give me what's fucking mine.”
“Every time I set you free, you run further from me. What the fuck am I doing wrong? Tell me so I can fix it. So you see that I fucking love you.”
“What they saw was a hero baby. That's what you are. A survivor. A strong woman. Beautiful... Funny as hell... Sexy... Sweet...”
“For the next three days, I'd piece her together. After I tore her completely apart.”
“Domaholic?" His voice went all funny with amazement. "Fuck, you're so cute.”
“After getting her settled safely on the couch, I retrieved a sterile razor blade from the kit in the closet, along with alcohol swabs, gloves, and gauze. A fluffy white towel came from the bathroom.”
“One less sweet angel about to get burned where the devils come to play.”
“Her innocence was brutal and there was something about it, something different that turned my Dom into a prowling wolf.”
“stroked her body softly and carefully, rocking her, kissing her everywhere I could reach. I didn't care who saw. Fuck them. Fuck all of them sick bastards.”
“I am cruel and I am selfish, but this need I have inside me, this need for you and no other, is stronger than anything else I've ever encountered. I doubt two years of lockup would dull it in the slightest.”
“You who come after me, scribbling these Annals, by now realize that I shy off portraying the whole truth about our band of blackguards. You know they are vicious, violent, and ignorant. They are complete barbarians, living out their cruelest fantasies, their behavior tempered only by the presence of a few decent men. I do not often show that side because these men are my brethren, my family, and I was taught young not to speak ill of kin. The old lessons die hardest.”
“Finders keepers!" Ian shouted, scooping up the overlay and hopping onto a rock outcropping.
"You cheater!" Amy was furious. No way was he going to get away with that. She climbed the rock, matching him step for step until she reached the top. There he turned to her, panting for breath. "Not bad for a Cahill," he said, grinning.
"You --y-y-you--" The words caught in her throat, the way they always did. He was staring at her, his eyes dancing with laughter, making her so knotted up with anger and hatred that she thought she would explode. "C-c-can't--"
But in that moment, something totally weird happened. Maybe it was a flip of his head, a movement in his eyebrow, she couldn't tell. But it was as if someone had suddenly held a painting at a different angle, and what appeared to be a stormy sea transformed into a bright bouquet -- a trick of the eye that proved everything was just a matter of perspective. His eyes were not mocking at all. They were inviting her, asking her to laugh along. Suddenly, her rage billowed up and blew off in wisps, like a cloud. "You're ... a Cahill, too," she replied.
"Touche."
His eyes didn't move a millimeter from hers.
This time she met his gaze. Solidly. This time she didn't feel like apologizing or attacking or running away. She wouldn't have minded if he just stared like that all day.”
“عندما تغير الطريقة التي تنظر فيها إلى الأشياء، تتغير الأشياء التي تنظر إليها”
“Chuckling, Jason picked up the bucket of explosives.
Rachel felt the moment slipping away. There was so much she wanted to say. What if something happened to him? What if she never told him how much she appreciated his coming back to Lyrian for her? How much she cared about him? There were too many feelings to translate into words. "See you later," she managed.
"Not if I see you first," Jason said, starting toward the main doors of the temple.
She watched him walking away. Were those the last words he would say to her? She stalked after him. "You can't leave with a joke."
He glanced back. "Why not?"
"What if I die?"
"Then at least I cheered you up before the end."
"That wasn't a cheerful joke. It was a teasing joke. And not even a very good one."
"Fine. Why did the baby cross the road?"
"No jokes," Rachel complained, striding alongside him.
"I guess it's more fitting that we should end with an argument."
"I just mean there are certain times when jokes aren't appropriate."
"Which makes them more needed and funny.”
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