“I'd feed you the cake just to watch your lips wrap around the fork. Then I'd watch your beautiful throat muscles work swallowing the sticky sweetness, fantasizin' about smearin' chocolate frosting down your neck so I could lick it off. Slowly. And when I finished feedin' you, I'd press my mouth to yours for a thorough taste of you and the cake.”

“Nobody gets everything in this life. You decide your priorities and you make your choices. I'd decided long ago that any cake I had would be eaten.”

“You moved my head so that it was lying in your lap. "Keep your eyes open," you said. "Stay with me."I tried. It felt like I was using every muscle in my face. But I did it. I saw you from upside down, your lips above my eyes and your eyes above my lips. "Talk to me," you said. My throat felt like it was closing up, as if my skin had swollen, making my throat a lump of solid flesh. I gripped your hand. "Keep watching me, then," you said. "Keep listening.”

“Say I was going to make love to you right now." He movied to stand eye to eye with her. "I would would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss.""I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you.""But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."~Slade”

“Not want you?” His voice was rough. “Everett, I'd lay you down right now in this thin blanket of snow and take you.” Everett's eyes widened, but Alex's mind was racing, the images coming at him too quick for him to hold them back. “The cold air would touch you and then my mouth.” He moved back into Everett's space, and Everett groaned. “My hands. Naked, Everett. I could bite your long limbs and lick the grace from your words and shock the neighbors with what obscenities I'd drive from your lips.”

“I sat up straight and looked down at my pad, and then I realized: I'd been sketching you, really. I mean, I'd drawn the lamp, and the chaos on the desk, but I'd given it your soul. I'd given that lamp your optimism, your bright face looking down on all the havoc.”