“Maybe it was possible to relinquish control. He could do this, with Bengt he could. Give himself up and fly. He closed his eyes, let himself be pulled in by the touch. Bengt's arms. Bengt's hands on his thighs, arms, chest. Lips and tongue on neck and shoulders, the need for more. 'Don't stop.”

“Bengt didn’t budge. “Talk to me, damn it.”“Let go!”“And where are you planning to go, Alex?”“Away!”“You can’t get away. You’re lugging your own prison around with you and patching up any holes from inside. Brilliant tactics, really! How does it feel?”“Safe!”

“- Ja vill inte vara ditt barn. (Bengt)- Vad vill du vara då? (Gun)- Din älskare. (Bengt)”

“I can't repair my wall as fast as you can tear it down.”

“But there was nothing except this languid contentment of satisfied desire, as if the rules had changed or the world wasn't the same anymore.”

“Before he could stop himself, Carlos pulled Michael down into a kiss, letting his lips and tongue communicate everything he'd been bottling up for days – months, if he was being honest with himself. Michael responded with a tenderness that begged to be answered, plying his mouth with soft, teasing kisses until Carlos pulled away, moving until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.“We don't have to stop,” Michael whispered.”

“He extricated himself from her encircling arm and she moaned a little and curled away from him. He moved close again, foetally fitting himself to her shape, wrapping his arm around her waist. She awoke briefly and clasped his hand tightly to her belly, and murmured sleepily, 'I do love you Martin.' Choked, he buried his face in the smooth nape of her neck, and summoned the courage to tell her what he hadn't dared say; that he loved her too, more than he could ever have imagined possible.”