“Why did you fucking leave her, Phillipe?" Bringing his eyes back to mine, he swallows and simply replies,"I wanted to see if I could.”

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and, therefore, is winged cupid blind. I don't need to see you, Phillipe, to know you feel as I do.”

“Yes, Phillipe. I want to feel you everywhere before I feel you nowhere.”

“When I fuck you, Gemma, I want your eyes open, looking right at me. I've never hidden who I am from anyone I've touched, and I won't start with you.”

“I don't know what it is you see, and I don't know what you're feeling, but when you bring her between us, something happens inside of me.”

“I see your eyes—those beautiful but frustrating eyes—looking up at me and offering everything I f**king want. I’m going to take it.” He growled out in a voice I hardly recognized. “I’m going to take everything you’re offering and more. I see your body laid out before me. You are open, vulnerable, and so f**king sexy that I can’t help but want to own it.”

“I want you to play for me,” he told her as he passed the violin back.Her elegant fingers gripped the neck of her Stradivarius as she gently pulled it up and rested it on her left shoulder. She turned her chin, so it sat perfectly in the chin rest at the base of the lower bout.“What would you like me to play?” she asked, closing her eyes.“Something you want me to hear.”