" Think about touching you again, tasting you. I go to sleep with your name on my tongue and your scent on my skin."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move, ensnared by the urgent pulse of his words.
"I wake up hard and aching, remembering how your sweet little nipple rose for me. Think about how I want to suck it again, fucking feast on you."
We stared at each other, heat and tension coiling between us like a living thing, tugging at my nipples, stealing my breath. His chest rose and fell in agitation, color washing over the sculpted crests of his cheeks.
I wanted. I wanted so badly.
He swallowed audibly. "You haunt me, Emma. Every damn thing about you does."
My fingers curled into a fist as blood rushed through my veins. "I think about you too. I've seen you bare but never got to touch. I want to."
Lucian grunted an agonized sound of want.
My words came out breathless. "I think about it at night, when I'm alone."
He closed his eyes, as though absorbing a hit. When they opened, the frosty green turned bright. "You don't know what that does to me, honey."
"Tell me."
A lock of his inky hair fell over his brow as he turned his head with a jerk, giving me his strong profile. "I feel owned. By you. And I like it."
I exhaled as my insides dipped. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet