“Do you always faint at the sight of blood?" Her jaw flexed, and a sound that was almost a growl emanated from low in her throat. "Only when it's mine. Your blood wouldn't bother me a bit.”

“He wanted to ask her what sound a heart made when it broke from pleasure, when just the sight of someone filled you the way food, blood, and air never could, when you felt as if you'd been born for only one moment and this, for whatever reason, was it.”

“Dwayne is right: blood does call to blood. I was always waiting for hers to beckon to mine, but I never considered that it would be my blood that would call upon hers.”

“Anywhere, she thought. He could touch her anywhere with that talented mouth, those clever hands. She’d do anything as long as he didn’t stop. On a surge of raw lust, she caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit. His growl thrilled her, but then he flexed a powerful thumb against her throat.”

“Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood.”

“Her jaw ached with tension. "Surely you don't respond to all women who...invite you this way?""Only strangers who remain anonymous and shrouded from my sight." The snap was still there, astonishing her. Anger was the last reaction she'd expected. "Do you intend to wear your veils when you fuck me, madam?”