“every move of his body sent ripples along those lean muscles. his flawless crystal skin practically dared people to see ifit felt as good as it loked - which it did.”

“The warmth of his body shouldn’t have felt good. He was angry and every muscle was tense. It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.”

“I could really appreciate him now - could properly see every beautiful line of his perfect face, of his long, flawless body with my strong new eyes, every angle and every plane of him. I could taste his pure, vivid scent on my tongue and feel the unbelievable silkiness of his marble skin under my sensitive fingertips.”

“As the figure moved before him he followed the muscles as they wove beneath the skin. he was not only fighting with an assailant who was awaiting for that split second in which to strike him dead, but he was stabbing at a masterpiece -- at sculpture that leapt and heaved, at a marvel of inky shadow and silver light. A great wave of nausea surged through him and his knife felt putrid in his hand. His body went on fighting”

“I closed my eyes and leaned back into his body; his fingers kneaded my hips, caressed my stomach. God, it felt good.”

“I’m sorry, I have to move. I have to. You’re so bloody tight. So good,” he groaned, his face distorted with need. He started to pump into her, long, powerful thrusts, the slap of flesh on flesh and the wet rush of their bodies moving together mingling with their ragged breathing. Everywhere she touched him he was hard as granite, as though every muscle in his body was straining toward completion. She’d never felt more desired, more wanted, more wanton or sexy in her life and she felt her own desire rising higher with every stroke.”