“He took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. "I'm a Dom, Savannah. I try to be in control of myself at all times, sometimes to the extreme. That control allows me to be in a place where I am responsible enough to accept the submission of someone who wants me to control her. The only control I will ever have over you is what you grant me.”

“Women worry too much about how they smell or taste. I assure you, I love to taste a woman’s primal essence on my tongue.” Something melted inside her. He liked it? “Really? You’re not just being polite, are you, Sir?” “No, kitten, when it comes to sex, I don’t have a polite bone in my body.”

“What you have to do is find something or someone that will make your surviving worthwhile. Find a cause that moves you. Find a woman who need you. Just fucking find something you can do to make the world a better place for at least one other person.”

“Pet, I give you permission to be as vocal as you wish, because I am going to blow your mind in a few minutes and I want to hear how much you enjoy the ride.”

“Do I need permission to breathe, Sir?”

“Giddyup, Sir.”

“You take control, Emma," he whispered. The words tickled her ear, he spoke them so close. Shivers raced down her neck, down her chest and her belly. "Take control of me. Come to me." Her neck arched, wanting his mouth to bite her. "If you do Emma, I may give you what you want. Or I may offer more than you can handle. Risk. That's what you like, isn't it? So play with fire. Play with me.”