" Once he’d removed his own he slid under the covers and held her possessively to him, wanting his skin against hers. As she always did, she wriggled a little until she found that groove that seemed to have been made just for her. Then instantly she settled and her expression melted into that sinful-angel look she had when sleeping. Cupping her face and breezing his thumb along her cheekbone, he whispered, “I’m sorry, baby.” Then he nuzzled his face into her hair and closed his eyes, feeling a strange kind of peace now that he was no longer at war with himself and had made the decision to do whatever it took to keep her. "
― Suzanne Wright , Feral Sins (The Phoenix Pack, #1)