“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he said.I placed my hands flat on the table and leaned across it. "Stay the hell away from him.""Who? Oh, you mean the guy who's gonna bite it soon?" "He's not. He's going to be fine."He reached a hand out and placed it over my own. I snatched my hand back. He shook his head at me and whispered, "You can't stop it.""Watch me.”

“This way,” he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn’t start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” he breathes against my ear. “No,” I gasp.He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. “Yes, you do. I’m not going to let you go.” I groan as he picks up speed. “You are mine, Anastasia.” “Yes, yours,” I pant. “I take care of what’s mine,” he hisses and bites my ear.”

“I need to devour you."Those words manage to knock the air right back out of my lungs, and my head spinsas one of his hands skims around my body. He splays it across the small of my back, pulling me closer to him, and leaning over until his lips are a centimeter from my collarbone."Sienna?" he growls, and I murmur to acknowledge him. "I'm going to taste you."He wasn't asking me, he was flat out telling me what was going to happen between us, and yet I felt myself nod, felt my body mold against his the moment his warm lips sought out the center of my throat."You smell like apples." he wispers harshly before his tongue darts out to trace the column of my thorat. I moan, letting my head fall all the way back."And you taste like the best kind of sin.”

“I thought I'd broken you.""Broken? Me? Oh no, Ana. Just the opposite."He reaches out and takes my hand. "You're my lifeline'" he whispers.”

“He takes my right hand and places it palm down on his chest. Then he traces around it with the pen, craning his neck to see, giving himself double chins.'What are you doing?'He shifts my hand away and starts scratching out letters on his skin. 'I worked out a tattoo - if I had one.'I look at what he's done. He's got the outline of my hand over his heart and in it he's written, Her.”

“What’s up with you and that new guy anyway?” Simon watched David leaving the room with contempt on his face. “Nothing.” “Nothing or none of my business?” “Both.” I placed my hand on my chin over the table and pretended he wasn’t talking to me.”