“She glanced over at the twisted wreckage of the chair — (a nice, Swedish chair that had done nothing in its short life to hurt anyone”

“The brown-eyes angel was weeping over the demon. The angel wept because she was grieved at the mere thought of someone hurting him”

“As soon as the words presented themselves, Gabriel knew that they were perfect for him. Perfect for what he was contemplating doing to her. Perfect for his own self-justification.Tasting. Taking. Sucking. Sinning. Draining. Abandoning.She was pure. She was innocent. He wanted her.Facilis descensus Averni.But he would not be the one to make her bleed. He could not, would not, make another girl bleed for the rest of his life. All thoughts of seduction and mad, passionate f*cking on desks and chairs, against walls and bookshelves and windows, immediately gave way. He would not take her. He would not mark her and claim what he had no right to claim.”

“She wanted more. More of him. More of this and them...she wanted to see him come apart above her and know that they had done this together. She wanted to find their own beautiful rhythm. The music swirled and rose about them, a tempting pace she was eager to match.She smiled, and he felt her smile travel all the way to his heart, allaying his worries. Without breaking eye contact, he began to move in and out maddeningly slowly.”

“Gabriel slowly began rubbing his eyes, for in addition to suffering from one of the worst hangover headaches of his life, he was slightly enjoying the sight of Miss Mitchell in his T-shirt and boxer shorts, passionately angry and shouting at him in a multiplicity of Western European languages. It was the second most erotic thing he had ever witnessed. And it was entirely beside the point.”

“I would have done whatever it took to save you.' His voice and his expression were grave. 'Even if that meant I had to spend eternity in Hell.”

“Don't you think she's had her quota of assholes?”