When a story captures me, it comes quickly and easily.

I will see to this; you see to your sister. Be quick about it. It won’t be long before I come for you, and you’d best be ready, Jess, with my ring still gracing your hand. You won’t stay me then. I’ll drag you to Scotland in irons if I have to.” He left her in a rush. As always, taking her heart with him.

Oh, I’ll fight you,” she promised, her eyes clear of shadows. “That’s the way I roll.

Your craving should be for me, angel, not an orgasm. For my body, my hands. Eventually, you won't be able to come without my skin touching yours.

What I want is for both of us to feel safe. What you and I have together shouldn't be draining us like this. It should be the one rock-solid thing we both count on.

You’re my wife, Eva. I don’t care if anyone else knows it or not, I know it. And I want to come home to you, have coffee in the morning with you, zip up the back of your dresses, and unzip them at night.

It was the nature of our relationship to be lusty and emotional, earthy and raw. The trust that held us together also opened us up to each other in ways that made us both vulnerable and dangerous. And it would get worse before it got better.