“I want you sore, baby,” he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.”

“This—” He shook his head. “You and me, you know it’s not a good idea.”“If you think so, maybe you should stay away.”“You don’t want me to,” he said, moving his hand to mine. Every time he touched me, my stomach got all jittery.“What do you want?” I asked.“You,” he said, his expression unreadable and his voice heavy and full of . . . full of what? Sadness? Regret? “To understandyou. To know that you’re safe. To not have to avoid the only person I can be myself around.”

“You want me as much as I want you. And all I want is you."My tongue warred with my mind. "Today," I whispered.Noah stood slowly, his body skimming mine as he rose. "Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.”

“I want you to watch. And tomorrow when you're sore, I want you to remember who did it to you.”

“Did you wonder?” he whispered. “Did you leave me and wonder what I hadn’t told you?” He leaned in, just so she’d feel his lips move whisper-light against her ear. “Did you want to know what I did when I was wicked? Do you want me to tell you?” he murmured. He felt her jerk slightly in surprise, and he chuckled. “Not about them, Francesca. You. Only you.”-Michael Stirling”

“She murmured, "You're unfinished.""Aye, precisely.""I need to go."When she moved to get up, he shoved her against his side and slapped her arse to keep her there. "You stay with me."She snapped, "What do you want from me, Chase?"He drew his head back in confusion. "I want everything. You're mine, Regin.”