1
" There, there, sweetin’,” he murmured into her hair.
“He loved me, he truly did,” she gasped.
“I know he did,” Michael said.
“And I loved him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She raised her head, glaring angrily. “You don’t even believe in love. Why are you agreeing with me?”
He laughed.
“Because”—he leaned down and licked at the tears on her cheeks, his lips brushing softly against her sensitive skin as he spoke, “ye’ve bewitched and bespelled me, my sweet Silence, didn’t ye know? I’ll agree that the sky is pink, that the moon is made o’ marzipan and sugared raisins, and that mermaids swim the muddy waters o’ the Thames, if ye’ll only stop weepin’. Me chest breaks apart and gapes wide open when I see tears in yer pretty eyes. Me lungs, me liver, and me heart cannot stand to be thus exposed.”
She stopped breathing. She simply inhaled and stopped, looking at him in wonder. His lips were quirked in a mocking smile, but his eyes—his fathomless black eyes—seemed to hold a great pain as if his strong chest really had been split open. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane, #3)
2
" God, you’re beautiful,” he growled while his cock throbbed with need.
“Ye keep telling me that and ye’ll have me believing it,” she said with the sexiest, most breathless voice he’d ever heard.
His fingers sank into her supple flesh. Her breasts were so full, so pliable, he craved to have his mouth on them, craved to suckle her nipples and listen to every soft moan. “You’d best believe me, because whenever you’re near, I feel like a caveman.”
“A wild beast?”
He nearly roared. “The wildest imaginable. "
― Amy Jarecki , The Time Traveler's Christmas (Guardian of Scotland #3)
