“His touch was simple, but specific, meant to show me he could be like a lover, gentle, intimate, but also that he was a man unaccustomed to hearing the word no. Yes. I understood. He was a man, and I? I was nothing but a girl, not even a woman. I was meant to fall at his feet and worship at the altar of his masculinity, grateful that he’d deigned to acknowledge me. All this, from a simple touch.”

“His words make sense. He's not the man for me. This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection to accept... almost. I can live with this. I understand.”

“Just Michael, how grateful I was that he was alive, how much I wanted to touch him. How much I wanted him to touch me.He kept his eyes on the activity outside. "Emerson, you can't look at me like that. Not right now.""How do you know I'm looking at you?""I can feel it." He smiled. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it in his voice. He hooked one arm around my neck and gently pulled me to his side.”

“And he was the reason I felt it. His gaze, his touch, his smile, his laugh, no one had ever made me feel... worshiped... quite like he did.”

“It was all for the best. I am an elf, and he is a human. Thomas is a Knight, and I am a Princess. His Knighthood meant nothing in this world. Though it did make me wonder what it meant in his. In his world, did Knights and Princesses fall in love? I doubted it.”

“Blake inspires instant, tender Blakelust in everyone he meets. All of his beauties are meant to be touched, and he likes to be touched.”