Chauncey seethed at the outrageous insult. "And your father?" he demanded, extending the sword. He didn't yet know all his vassals, but he was learning. He would brand the family name of this boy to memory.

I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night,” Patch told me gravely. “I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you — every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll make you happy.

Is everything a joke to you?” I asked. He dabbed his tongue to his lip again. “Not everything.” “Like what?” “You.

You're mine, Angel," he murmured, brushing the words across my jawbone as I arched my neck higher, inviting him to kiss everywhere. "You have me forever.

Anything was better than nothing. Half-full was better than empty. Ignorance was the lowest form of humiliation and suffering.

You don't happen to have a thousand dollars I can borrow?" "I don't have five you can borrow. My piggy bank is officialy anorexic.

That was a good fight back in the gym,” he said. “But I think you could benefit from a few more boxing lessons.