“If she could've found the will power to speak, the brain cells to construct thought, she would've told Clay he was a god. It was a good thing she was too wiped out or he would never let her forget it”

“Make me forget." A whisper, a plea.Not giving her what she wanted wasn't even an option. He switched their positions so she was under him. "Aren't you afraid I'll take advantage?"She wiped away her tears. "Please do.""Ask nice.""Why don't I make you angry instead? That gets me kissed a lot.”

“She wished he’d stop touching her. Not because she didn’t like it but because she liked it far too much. It made her hunger for things that could never be hers. And if someone went hungry for too long, they started to starve. Started to hurt.”

“When you've lived as long as I have," he said, eyes heavy-lidded but definitely on her, "you learn to appreciate new sensations. They are rare in an immortal's life."She found she'd moved toward him. He hooked her arm around her waist, pulling her closer until she straddled him as he sat on a ledge below the waterline, her legs wrapped around his waist.He settled her firmly against him.Sucking in a breath, she said, "Sex isn't new to you," and rocked her heat over the exquisite hardness of him. Good didn't begin to describe how it felt. How he felt."No. But you are.""Never had a hunter before?" She grinned, nibbling on his lower lip.But he didn't smile. "I've never had Elena before." The words were husky, his eyes so intent she felt owned.”

“Clay, if anyone followed anyone, it was me tagging along after you. I didn’t dare order you around.”“Load of shit,” he muttered, but she thought she heard a softening in his tone. “You fucking made me attend tea parties.”She remembered his threat before the first one: “Tell anyone and I’ll eat you and use your bones as toothpicks.”~ Talin and Clay dialogue”

“Dangerous, she thought, this was so dangerous. Too many pieces of her in his hands. She had to hold something back, some part of her that would protect her against the nights she woke to find him lying awake, a faraway expression on his face. Because it would happen—no matter the passionate tenderness growing ever deeper between them, she was second best, would always be second best.”

“A hand in her hair, wrenching back her head. "What's my name?"She scratched trails down his back. He didn't even wince. "My name, kitty. Say my name.""Mr. Mud Stick, Muddie for short," she said, even as she rubbed herself against the hard thrust of his denim-covered erection, the roughness of the fabric an exquisite sensation. She would've liked naked skin even more, but he wasn't budging."Say it, or no cock for you today."Her mouth fell open. "Fuck you.""You'll be doing that shortly.”