“Was there anything in her life that made her feel more in control than being wanted?”

“I stare at her for a long moment. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.”

“All I can think is that I want her more than anything. I want her more than I've ever wanted anything, ever.”

“He was lying in bed with the woman he loved . . . a woman he couldn't make love to. He closed his eyes. More than any­thing in this world, he wanted this woman to be happy. He'd give her anything, do anything to make her happy. Even if it made his own life hell.”

“With my name on her lips and with barely anything separating us, I felt the last of my control slipping. Whitish-red light radiated off of me, bathing Kat in the warm glow. There was nowhere that my hands didn’t explore, and the way her body arched into the slightest touch, I was awed and consumed. Kissing her and drawing her deep inside me, I never wanted this to end. She was perfect to me. She was mine, and I wanted her more than I wanted anything in my life.”

“She is, above all else, tired; she wants more than anything to return to her bed and her book. The world, this world, feels suddenly stunned and stunted, far from everything.”