" Some of the ichor within the strawberry overflowed her lips, dripping syrup down her chin. Sorcha didn’t see him move, but she felt the touch of his hand as though he branded her. His calloused thumb traced the line of liquid from chin to mouth. It rasped over her sensitive lip, catching every last drop of sticky juice. "

― Emma Hamm , Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld, #1)