“Once, he hadn't been able to touch her without causing himself pain. Now, it only hurt when he didn't touch her.”

“She’d made her choice when he asked for her hand and she’d offered it without question. Once he touched her, she knew she was his. Afterward, he had always been there in the shadows, like a ghost who would not leave. And now the ghost had decided that he wanted her.”

“He touched her, and she came again at his touch, her mouth pulling at him.He was beyond gentleness. He shoved her back against the blanket of clothes and moved between her legs.He went in hard, fast, deep, only barely able to control himself. She wrapped her legs around his, and he reached down and pulled them higher, up around his hips, so that he was deeper still, and she was tight, clasping, milking him with the power of her climax, which was almost sweetly painful.”

“Does it hurt now?" he asked, his tone rough and seductive."No." She shook her head again and sighed, trying to pretend his touch didn't make her uncomfortably wet.He grinned. "So...what's with the heavy breathing?”

“He wanted to tell her how much he preferred to look at her, that only by watching could he memorize her, and take her and possess her. He did not know how to explain that he could not touch better or more fully with his hands than he could with his eyes. Seeing encompassed all at once; a touch was limited to one spot at a time.”

“She touched something deep in his soul. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but the thought of hurting her made his chest ache.”