1
" I’m not interested in you. I will never be interested in you. In fact, I’m fucking allergic,” he says, his jaw clenched. “To you. I’m allergic to your big silver eyes and your pouty pink lips. To your blushing cheeks and your breathy voice. I’m allergic to the way you can’t stop watching me. I told you I’m not interested in Disney movies, didn’t I? I meant it. So I suggest you find someone else to play damsel in distress with. Someone else to solve your teenage problems. Someone your age, someone who’s probably still going through a fucking growth spurt or someone who spends his weekends playing video games and jerking off. From now on, if I catch you looking at me across the hallway or if I find you within ten feet of my office or me without reason, my sister’s best friend or not, I’ll personally make sure you never see the outside of that brick wall and those black metal gates for the rest of the year.” And then before he straightens up, he adds, “And I might be closer to your dad’s age than yours, but I do remember what people call you. And I also know what your name is, Bronwyn. "
― Saffron A. Kent , These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary's Rebels #3)
19
" If I fuck a woman, I keep her. For however long I want to. And she’s not allowed to look at other men. She’s not allowed to be looked at by them either” – he looks me up and down, my jewelry, my roses – “or shake her tight stripper ass for someone other than me. If I fuck a woman, she knows to get on her back at the crook of my finger and spread her legs. She knows to arch that back too and open her hole for me. And if instead of on her back I want her at my feet and if instead of her hole, I want her pink mouth, she knows to drop everything and get the fuck on her knees. And open that fucking mouth. “If I fuck a woman, Bronwyn, her world revolves around me, do you understand? I’m the center of her gravity. I’m the blood in her veins and the beats of her heart. I’m the man for her and no one else. So the reason I said no to her is because I’m a possessive motherfucker who never learned to share his toys. So I kindly ask you to not waste your teenage sympathy on me. Because it’s not about doing the right thing. It’s about doing things my way. "
― Saffron A. Kent , These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary's Rebels #3)