If I were to splay you out on my desk and thrust my fingers into you right now, I think I’d find different.

"Make me forget." A whisper, a plea. Not giving her what she wanted wasn't even an option. He switched their positions so she was under him. "Aren't you afraid I'll take advantage?" She wiped away her tears. "Please do." "Ask nice." "Why don't I make you angry instead? That gets me kissed a lot."

The longer you live, the more mistakes you make. And the more sorrows you carry.

If that happens to us," she whispered, unable to wrap her mind around the idea of a life so long and so full of tragedy, "if we feel ourselves, who we are together, becoming lost in time, I don't want to Sleep. I want to say good-bye when I'm still me and you're still you.

You know I'll never say no, and Nate's so dedicated, I think he loves our alpha more than me." "I resent that," Nate grumbled. "I might love football more than you, but definitely not Lucas's ugly mug.

She watched as he settled down on the bed with Naya skin to skin on his chest. His hand all but covered her tiny body as he stroked her in that changeling way, bonding with her on the most elemental level. Then he purred, and Naya made a happy little sound of delight, very much a cat in her love of touch.

Dropping her hand, she turned in his arms. Then, rising up on tiptoe, she cupped his face in her palms and drew him down. Her kiss was innocent, vulnerable, a caress so gentle that it made him her slave between one breath and the next.