" Glancing over his shoulder, he froze solid. Payne had loosened the ties of her hospital gown and was slowly, inexorably . . . letting the front . . . fall from her shoulders. As the spray hit his arm and started soaking the top of his scrubs, he swallowed hard—and found himself wanting to scream when her hands caught the very top and held it to her breasts. She stayed like that, as if she were waiting to see what he was going to say, and as their eyes locked, his cock strained so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t bust open the front of his frickin’ pants. “Let it go, bambina,” he heard himself say. And she did. Fucking hell, he’d never wanted to worship the law of gravity before, but he did now: He wanted to prostrate himself at Newton’s altar and weep with gratitude for the blessing that made all things fall to the goddamn ground. "

― J.R. Ward , Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #9)