Nothing in his touch said he considered her fractured, considered her damaged goods, and that gave her a freedom she wouldn't have believed possible.

Holding Hawke’s gaze in a way that not many men could, Walker said, “You will be good to her.” Not a statement, but an order. Hawke’s wolf stirred. “Do you think I’d be otherwise?” “If I did, you’d be dead.

Why is it”—she shivered as he kissed the top of her spine, went lower—“that I always end up naked while you remain dressed?” A husky masculine chuckle, his lips moving over her shoulder, his hands on her hips. “Because I'm a smart man.

A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.

You have the power to tear me to pieces, to wound me so deep and true that I‘ll never recover.

Your name is written on my heart, Lily

The scent of the sea, a wild turbulent storm, crashing into her mind. Elena, why is Dmitri naked?