Charlotte Featherstone Quotes

Jane," he whispered as the streaks of dawn broke through their bedroom window. "Once more. In the daylight, so I can see you with the sun upon your skin."
And she rolled over, smiled, and held open her arms to him, welcoming him home at last.

Go to hell," she snapped, hating how he made her lose her cool elegance.
"Already been, my dear. The service was not up to my standards."
Elizabeth and Iain.

As I said, you have mistaken me for another. London is full of drab little peahens, sir. Now, then, I'm leaving," she said in a huff.
"To change?" he asked, unable to stop from goading her.
"To write a poem for my toast," she snapped. "And you may suffer, for I will not help you with yours."
"No need, darling," Matthew drawled, his words intending to push her away.
"I doubt you know a suitable word that will rhyme with fuck. "
"Stuck," she said, turning to face him. "For two days, my lord. We are stuck with one another. Let us make the best of it."
"And how do you propose we do that?"
"By giving each other wide berth. We will not stand together, we will not talk to one another and we will most certainly not look at one another."
"No problem from this quarter."
"Good. You may be assured that it will be no difficulty for me, either."
-Matthew and Jane

You ask for too much, Iain," she murmured. "More than I can give."
"Do I?"
Movement against her made her pause, made her stiffen as she felt him press forward, felt his body shift until his back and shoulders were pressing indecently against her belly and his head was turned, the curve of his cheek lying on her lap.
"Can you give me this, Beth? Just one moment to lie here and close my eyes, and feel you beneath me, soft and curved?"
"And what would you find?" she asked, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.
"Solace."
Closing her eyes, she bit hard on her lip, trying not to weaken against that one word. There had been no hesitation when he said it. It was as if he'd known it - what he'd desired all along, a feeling of tranquility. Peace. Rightness.
Her hand hovered over his head, her fingers itching to touch, to run her fingers through his hair, which would be damp with snow. What picture did they make, seated on this bench, a tempest of white swirling around them as he laid his head in her lap?

No, by God, you've accused me of coldness, but how
can you, when you can feel how hot my body is against
yours? You've said I have none of the red-blooded passion
of my sex, but you don't know. You," he gasped, pressing
against her with a hard thrust of his hips, "you will know it
the depth of my passion. But you will.

I'm," he swallowed thickly, unsure of why he wanted-no needed to explain his
behavior to her. "I am not comfortable amongst the ton. I'm a solitary person, I keep my own counsel, and prefer to do so."
"You're lonely."
He stopped then, shocked by her words, by her perception of him. He'd made
himself vulnerable, let himself weaken as her soft body melded with his. She saw too much, knew too much.
"This," he said, his voice cracking with desire, with the pain of what he knew he must do. "I can't ... ."
"Just let me in," she whispered.
"I'm afraid you would not like what you see."
"Trust me," she said, her tempting mouth only inches away from his.
-Blaine and Madeline.

Jane, you are my confidante, my helpmate, my friend. My lover. You are everything the word wife means to me. In my heart, we are wed. In my soul, you are mine.

She was breathtaking in her beauty and her human spirit, he thought, unable to speak as he gazed upon her. Hers was the sort that would not fade or grow jaded with time and years, but flourish, grow more radiant with life and its experience. Hers was a beauty that no other possessed. A beauty he longed to keep, to hide away, to bask in, himself alone. She had become his. He didn't know when, whether it had been the moment her fingertips had touched him when he was hurt, or if it had grown, like a seed, slowing spreading until Jane had become the root anchoring the shattered pieces of his heart, pulling them tight together until it resembled the organ it should.

Why?" She asked in a confused whisper. "Out of all the women in the world, why did you choose this mortal?"
"Because fate drove me to you.

As he clutched her in his shaking hands and wept against her, he whispered into her ear, the words that made him believe. "Love bears all things. Endures all things," he said. "Ours has, hasn't it?" She nodded and held him tighter. "But can it endure this, Anais? This demon who holds me so mercilessly in its claws?"
She touched his face and kissed him. "My love can and will, Lindsay. I will be here when you open your eyes. I will give you whatever you need to make it more bearable.

I'm going to cut you," Georgiana murmured. "I'm going to mark that face of yours and show him what I'm capable of."
"He'd still love me," Elizabeth whispered. "It's a concept you could never understand, Georgiana.

As he looked around the huge ducal bed,
he saw everything that meant the world to him.
Outside the sky was darkening and the snow was falling. Through misty
eyes, Matthew looked up, saw the moon glowing brilliantly and whispered,
"thank you."
It was simple, but heartfelt. Never had a man been more grateful than that
very moment when everything was utter perfection. With his family and his wife
pressed up against him.

I am Kian."
"Mercy " she replied. Swallowing hard she forced her gaze away from him. She was being too bold in her perusal but she could not stop looking at
him.
"Kindness " he whispered. Their eyes locked and Mercy felt a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation pierce her. "I could use some of you"
he said thoughtfully as his cool gaze devoured her. "Most definitely I could use you."
He rose and walked around the pond perusing her body as he came to stand beside her. "The milk of human kindness how sweet the taste."
He actually licked his lips and Mercy shivered her core heating and wetting. Then he lowered himself until they were eye to eye.
"I believe I could drink you dry.

"Mercy "" title="Charlotte Featherstone Quotes: I am Kian."
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He knew how to touch her, how hard to thrust, when to roll his hips, when and how to angle himself so she could not only feel him inside her, but rubbing against her clitoris, brushing, sensitizing. The fiend knew how to make her agony last, how to suspend it until he would allow her to reach out for it and surrender.

She saw how he was staring at it, the bright red hue beneath her bonnet. She could not bear to see the way he was looking at her - right through her - without seeing her. He did not see a woman. He did not see Jane, the woman he had been so passionate with two days before. He saw ... Jane swallowed hard and looked
away, hating the weakness of her spirit. She was more than this, a wilting flower. She was stronger than this. But damn it, this hurt.
It hurt because he was the man responsible for making her burn. For making her feel like a woman. It hurt because it had been a trick. An illusion. And it hurt most of all because he did not see her, the woman she was behind the unfashionable spectacles and garish hair.

Clasping her to him, he hugged her for a long while and she felt his guilt and fear subside. "Do you want to see something very special - something magical?"
Giggling she whispered, "You already showed me that this morning."
He swatted her bottom. "Minx! Not that!

She brought a finger to her mouth, licked it. Salt. A clean scent. Not male sweat rich with the scent of musk and masculine flesh, but something else. Something purer. Tears.
"Iain?"
He trembled and she could have sworn she heard his tears run down his cheeks and plop onto the pillow.
"My God, Beth. I've seen you. I've seen you in my heart and in my soul." And then he stiffened, pressed his fingers into her hips, squeezing. "Can I, Beth? Can I come inside you?"
"Yes," she murmured, holding him close, feeling his
body shudder beneath hers. "And stay forever.

I won't say it's going to be easy for me, Madeline. I've lived too long in darkness and shadows, but if you're willing to stick by me, to give me a chance, I'll give you whatever you wish."
"My wish has already come true," she said, smiling into his upturned face. "It was
you, after all."
-Blaine and Madeline

She followed the melting flakes, revelling in the thickness, the softness of his hair, which he wore long. She had loved to run her fingers through it before. Tug at it in mounting pleasure. Snuggle into it in the shared intimacy of their loving.

Black would trust her with his secrets. He would protect hers. But did she trust him with her heart? Could she?
She thought of Wendell, and no longer felt any remorse for her feelings. She did not love him. Her heart had been taken two years ago, by a stranger she thought she had conjured up in the atmosphere of her imagination.
He had asked her to trust him - and there was only one way she knew how. She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out the crimson gown.
No regrets. No seduction. No scandal. Only love.

I wasn't drunk," Alynwick grumbled. "I tchin' for a fight, aye, but no' drunk."
"Careful," Black said with some amusement, "your cultured English accent is giving way to your heathen Highland one.

Oh my God!" Lindsay cried. "I swear I shall practice celibacy every day for the rest of my life! I swear it, Anais.

BEYOND THE MIST, the darkness and shadow, he waits, reaching out through a veil of gossamer threads - 'your
future,' he whispers, 'your destiny'.

This was the scene she saw in her mind. What he needed
or at least wanted. Submission.
Stepping around the chair, she stood before him. Dropping the sheet she had used to wrap around herself, she stood before him, naked, listening to his sharp inhalation of breath.
Then, she lay at his feet, just as she saw in his mind.
"No," he whispered, but she knew this was what he wanted. Her to come to him willingly. To accept him as he was.

You have a wild-eyed look, my Beth. What do you
see?"
"Don't look at me," she cried, now utterly unhinged.
"Don't look into my eyes when you can see everything in them, and I am not able to look into yours and see anything!

Slave. Minion. Fiend. The others who have come before me have been called such things, but I prefer to think of myself as a disciple; a devout follower of my voluptuous mistress.

Jude," she whispered as she touched his face. "I'm so frightened of this. This bind that links us. It whispers to me to take what you're offering, but I fear the consequences. I have lived the consequences."
His fingertips traced the column of her throat down over the swells of her breasts where they lingered until her breath caught. "I am not your father, Isabella, and you are not your mother."
"I know, but - "
"There are no certainties in life," he murmured as he lowered his head and kissed the apex of her breast where her heart hammered so hard. "But I can give you this certainty. I love you. And I want you. I have wanted you for so long, and that feeling has only grown. There must be trust between us, Isabella. Passion is not enough for me. I want more from you."
"You ask for so much," she said, then trailed off.
"Not any more than I am offering you.

Does he lay with you in the grass? Does he stare up at the stars, speaking of his dreams, wishing he could roll over and kiss you and run his fingers along the breasts that tease him beneath the shirt
the shirt he knows he will carry home with him and smell and, God help him, sleep in, just so that he could be close to you?

A friend. A companion. A beautiful, passionate lover to spend the days and nights with. A woman to carry my children, a partner to share the triumphs and failures. A woman I can share my dreams with, and who will share hers with me. A woman who I can comfort and hold in times of need, and who will hold me when I am weak , and sorrowful, and in need of the sort of succor only a wife can give her husband. A woman who I so desperately want to make love to. You, Lucy, you are that woman.

She had his dark hair, his lashes, and from the glimpse he had, she bore his eyes, as well. But the shape of her face, a perfect oval, was her mother's. She had Anais's cheeks. Anais's lovely mouth and proud chin. He kissed her chin, feeling the softest of fluttering against his cheek - baby's breath. There was nothing sweeter than the feel of an innocent child's breath against one's cheek - nothing more wondrous than knowing that the baby was your own flesh and blood.
Mina stretched against him, yawning widely and throwing her arms up wide alongside her head. He laughed through his tears and reached for her little fist and brought it to his mouth, kissing her with such love he thought he would die of it. "You will consume me, little Mina, just as your mother has."
-Linsay to his infant daughter.

Matty," Jane whispered, "what are you thinking?"
He smiled, kissed her navel before glancing up at her. "Barbaric thoughts."
"You're very pleased with yourself, aren't you?"
He laughed and slid up the length of her body. "I am. It's such a powerful
visual to know that my seed is responsible for the life within you and the
incredibly arousing changes in your body.
"And, I, of course, have nothing to do with it?"
"Jane," he whispered, "let me have my moment of male glory.

But he was incapable of shame.He had no conscience or soul.No heart, either.That has broken and died years ago.The leftover pieces had petrified in his chest, leaving stone shrapnel in a black, empty place that felt nothing.Just a yawning void of nothing.And he liked it that way ...

You kissed me, and I opened my eyes and thought you were Death. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I clung to the memory of you because it gave me comfort - the only bit of happiness I had ever had. You were my secret fantasy, my lover. My story ... Lord Death is you, and the woman he stalks ... is me."
"Why have you come," he asked, "when you now know the truth?"
"Because when you saved me, you forged a link between us. I don't believe it will ever break."
"Bella," he whispered, "I couldn't allow you to take your life. Couldn't bear the thought of existing in a world that you did not.

Pressing his forehead to the cool glass, he held her gaze, her palm, his eyes pleading with her. Don't go. Don't leave me.

I'm still scared, still wanting to run at times when I look into your eyes and wonder how I will ever be the sort of man you deserve. I want so much to deserve you. To be worthy of a woman like you.

The first time I met death, it was at a ball and we danced a waltz.

But this night is not through. We've made love. And now, to the bed, where the f*cking will commence.

The crimson satin lining gleamed in the firelight, and so, too, did his eyes. When he looked up at her, there was a mist to them once again.
"Little magpie," he whispered as he looked at the black onyx ring. "You gave up everything for this, didn't you?"
She nodded. "That is how much I trust you. Everything I had hidden away in that biscuit jar went to this. All my worldly goods are in that ring, Jude."
"Then I will take it and hold it close, and never give you cause for regret." He put the ring on his index finger, and Isabella grinned. How perfect it looked - how utterly sensual. She wanted that ringed hand on her body, comforting her. Loving her.

Tis not your time, my love," he whispered. "You will not die tonight."
"Never," I said to him, "for I have been blessed by Death's Eternal Kiss.

Tilting her face back, he looked into her eyes. They were unfocused, unable to settle on his face. And the same terrifying feeling stole over him once again. An acute fear - a final, painful realization - that her world was one of utter blackness. At last he realized the magnitude
of her blindness. He couldn't imagine never seeing her again.
It was like a death, the inevitable conclusion when someone was gone. Why it should hit him now, after all these years, he could not fathom, but it was there, and finally he understood her private hell. He'd told her he would die without sight. Selfish, arrogant bastard, concerned
with his own needs, his own perversions to watch
himself pleasure her, to study her as she accepted him, to watch their bodies joined. How carelessly he had said that, not thinking of Elizabeth and what she would die for. What she wanted in this life.

I vow I am, and always will be, constant and faithful in my love for you, Anais. Nothing you or anyone else does shall alter these feelings. I am forever loving, forever waiting, forever yearning ... forever yours.

[...] But Jane, tonight I'm going to watch–and so are you. It will not be dark when I look upon you. There will be no clothes–only your skin. There will be no wiggling and squirming away from me. You will lie still and let me look. I will take as long as I want, gorge myself on the sight of you, and you will not resist. You will not utter one word to the contrary. You will accept everything I give you. And you will be loved, Jane. Loved so that you never forget that you are the only woman for me. You always have been. And you always will be.

The man was an enigma. One minute he was looking at her as though he would
kiss her senseless, the next he refused to even talk to her, much less look at her.

I can say that I have fallen deeper in love with you today, knowing the sort of man you are.

What did you discover about the shooter?" Jude asked as he struggled to sit upright.
"Once I spotted him on the rooftop, I ran up the back stairs to follow him. He was long gone, but he left something behind," Sussex said.
"Oh?"
"Yes, I'll take it upon myself to investigate it."
Jude opened his eyes, his stare focused on the duke. "Do you need my help?"
Alynwick snorted. "A soiled dove with a broken wing," he drawled. "What use would you be?"
Jude grumbled, "I'll be fine by the morning.

Look your fill " the creature murmured his voice as sweet and rich as syllabub sauce. And his lusty grin when he said it was sinful - and pleasurable.
Prue was certain her face flamed red at the barbarian's insinuation.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean " she replied tartly.
He smiled and drained his goblet. His head was tilted back exposing the thick cords in his throat and Prue watched him eagerly drink down the entire contents in one swallow. Never had she seen such a vulgar display. Never had she been so engrossed in the workings of a man's throat and the movement of his Adam's apple. With a thunk he set the goblet down and shoved his chair back. His legs were spread and the black leather riding britches he wore were pulled snugly over his massive thighs…and other parts as well.
Flushing Prudence glanced away. She could not look at him like that with his lace jabot untied and lying on either side of his opened shirt. A shirt that was unbuttoned and opened to his waist exposing a vast amount of dark male skin hairless and bronzed.
"Shall you not look my lady " he beckoned softly. "I like the feel of your eyes on me."
"Cover yourself sir " she demanded. "It's most unseemly."
"Ah the lady is Temperance indeed " the brute murmured huskily.

Everywhere you are, I will be. Everywhere you go, I will
go. I will follow you into your dreams, stay while you sleep,
watch while you eat."
That sinful bottom lip touched hers, then played with it,
brushing it, tugging on it, parting her mouth as if he had all
the time in the world to play and coax. "I will be the very air
you breathe.

I'll come back to you," he whispered, not meaning to say it out loud. "And I will ravish you over breakfast, and I will never leave you alone another night of my life.

Am I to die?" I asked, and he stopped, raised our joined hands to his mouth and gently kissed my knuckles.
"You are, my love, and in your sleep, you will become Death's bride.

Good evening, Miss Fairmont."
She saw Black sprawled out in a wingback chair, jacketless, the white shirt he wore unbuttoned to the waist, revealing an enticing view of his chest and the fine black hair that was hidden beneath. "I was beginning to wonder if you would come tonight. It is midnight after all."
On cue the large pendulum clock in the hall began to chime out the hour. Isabella met his gaze, marveled at the dark layers in his eyes. He appeared at once indolent, yet supremely masculine, and in his state of dishabille he was utterly breathtaking.

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Pearls, because your skin is as smooth and luminescent as one, and because the first time my lips caressed your throat I thought your flesh as opulent and lush
as one. Gold," he whispered, moving closer, "because it reminded me of how your hair looked in the dying
candlelight, how it burned and glistened, and how badly I want to lie in bed, in our chamber, and watch you at your dressing table, unpinning it for me. I will have that, Lucy, the
rights of a husband to enter his wife's room, to see her at her toilette, to watch what no other man will ever be
granted. You do understand that? That I won't settle for less?"
"You have made your line in the sand very clear."
He grinned. "You can cross it anytime you wish, you know. You might even like it on my side.

She glared at him through tear-filled eyes. "You talk of your pain? You cannot even begin to understand the sacrifice I have made. I gave away a piece of myself, my soul! But I did it out of love, never think otherwise. I made the choice to live my life without her because I knew in my heart she would be better off without me and I could not bear to know that a life created out of such perfect love would be forced to live with the ugly truth of her birth. I thought," she sobbed, breaking down before him. "I thought ... I did the right thing.

Wallingford vaulted up from his chair. "You've come here so that I can mollify you and share in your belittling of Anais? Well, you've knocked on the wrong bloody door, Raeburn, because I will not join you in disparaging Anais. I will not! Not when I know what sort of woman she is - she is better than either of us deserves. Damn you, I know what she means to you. I know how you've suffered. You want her and you're going to let a mistake ruin what you told me only months ago you would die for. Ask yourself if it is worth it. Is your pride worth all the pain you will make your heart suffer through? Christ," Wallingford growled, "if I had a woman who was willing to overlook everything I'd done in my life,
every wrong deed I had done to her or others, I would be choking back my pride so damn fast I wouldn't even taste it."
Lindsay glared at Wallingford, galled by the fact his friend - the one person on earth he believed would understand his feelings - kept chastising him for his anger, which, he believed, was natural and just.
"If I had someone like Anais in my life," Wallingford continued, blithely ignoring Lindsay's glares, "I would ride back to Bewdley with my tail between my legs and I would do whatever I had to do in order to get her back."
"You're a goddamned liar! You've never been anything but a selfish prick!" Lindsay thundered. "What woman would you deign to lower yourself in front of? What woman could you imagine doing anything more to than fucking