“He knew Doms who never sucked off their subs, claiming that it upset the power dynamic too much, tangled the lines drawn. To his mind, that was nonsense. He was in complete control here, just like he would be when it was Sterling's mouth on his cock, fervent, worshipful, obedient. Hell, if he ever wanted to, he could order Sterling to spank him and still be clearly, unmistakably, the one calling the shots”

“When she returned to her cabin, Dr.Gabriel was already there examining Sterling's back. Sterling lay on his stomach, on her bunk, his eyes closed. She wondered if he was sleeping. She doubted it. He was probably unconscious. Or perhaps he'd closed his eyes in order to hide what he was feeling.”

“Maybe the snow would cool his ardor down to the point where he could look at Sterling without wanting him to the point of compromising his pinciples, but he wasn't holding out much hope of that. Snow was only frozen water, after all, and it couldn't work miracles.”

“he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. ...He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.”

“A Master is not someone who merely revels in the benefits that he reaps from the power and control that he wields over his sub. A Master is not just an automaton who emotionally doles out orders and watches with amusement as his minions perform his bidding. A Master is not a person who only relishes the benefits that his superior status entitles him. Certainly all of these characteristics could and often do exist within a Master. He may be demanding and at times selfish. He may genuinely enjoy and even be aroused by the power that he has over a sub. He may be able to expertly control his emotions, issuing his commands and enforcing his discipline with stone-faced determination. But a true Master, a Master such as Matt, was so invested in his sub that he was actually in a way a slave himself. He was a slave to his love for me. He was a slave to his responsibility. He was a slave to the passion and the commitment. He was a slave to his overwhelming desire to protect his property at all costs. He was a slave to his slave. I knew without questions that he loved me so much he'd literally lay down his life for me. He owned me, and his ownership owned him”

“And the man clad in black and silver with a silver rose upon him? He would like to think that he has learned something of trust, that he has washed his eyes in some clear spring, that he has polished an ideal or two. Never Mind. He may still be only a smart-mouthed meddler, skilled mainly in the minor art of survival, blind as ever the dungeons knew him to the finer shades of irony. Never mind, let it go, let it be. I may never be pleased with him.”