“Phoebe, don't play coy. If you were willing to give a peeping Tom a show, and you thought you were doing it for my benefit, then let's cut the pretend out of this and shoot straight for cold hard honesty”

“The answer to my thoughts is the loud ripping of my shirt when he tears it straight down my back, yanking it forward around my shoulders and imprisoning my arms in the sleeves.“I've got you now,” he says, breaking the kiss and sounding like a god about to unleash wrath.”

“Levelling my stare at him I drop a hint like a penny into a well, “You mentioned you were tied up. Win, you should have reserved that privilege for me.”

“I quite enjoy the banter actually. I mean, you don't meet many females who can come back at you as fast as you can throw it out at them. I prefer a more graphic dialogue as a forerunner to sex though: if they have the guts to spell it out for me in glorious Technicolor that always gets my interest.”

“Holding my hands, kissing the palms, his smile is ecstatic, jubilant, adoring, and the song playing speaks for him, “Have you ever seen the light...the way it shines in you.”

“Pushing himself off the bed in a violent thrust, his lats widen like wings down his sides, where his waistcoat is open halfway to his waist to accommodate muscular builds, he indicates the gilded cage with outstretched arms. Showing off his supreme musculature, he says, “We have forever Phoebe.”

“Nothing works. My throat, my eyelids - nothing but my heart, which - oh god – am I having a panic attack? No, no, you don't almost orgasm with a panic attack.”