“Oh my God, you feel incredible." He breathed heavily against my ear. "Holy shit, I may never recover from this.”

“Oh my God, Abby,” he breathed. He rocked into me again, another hum emanating from his throat. “Holy shit, you feel amazing.”“Is it different?”He looked into my eyes. “It’s different with you, anyway, but,” he took in a deep breath and tensed again, closing his eyes for a moment, “I’m never going to be the same after this.”

“Do grant, oh my God, that when my lips approach Yours to kiss You, I may taste the gall that was given to You; when my shoulders lean against Yours, make me feel Your scourging; when my flesh is united with Yours, in the Holy Eucharist, make me feel Your passion; when my head comes near Yours, make me feel Your thorns; when my heart is close to Yours, make me feel Your spear.”

“Holy crap,” Mindy whispered.“Jesus Christ,” Brody muttered.“Oh my God,” I breathed.“What the fuck?” Max clipped.”

“Holy shit," I breathed. "Hellhounds.""Harry," Michael said sternly. "You know I hate it when you swear.""You're right. Sorry. Holy shit," I breathed, "heckhounds.”

“I thrust the picture at his chest. He takes it and squints at it in the softening light. Then his eyes widen. "Holy shit," he breathes. "Is this the girl that ate you?""Ha, no. You're funny." I snatch my picture back. "So I was super fat. It's my father's fault. He never hugged me.""So, what, you ate him?”