Jess Michaels Quotes

He was undone. His cock throbbed against his trousers and his whole body was poised, ready to explode. "Some day the time will come when I will take my time with you," he promised. "I'm certain at some point this madness that steals my control will cease." Mariah's lips parted in surprise at his statement. John was known for his restraint with lovers - how could it be that she stole that from him? She might have asked, but at that moment John stripped his shirt over his head and shucked his boots and trousers off. She could scarcely breathe, let alone speak, as she stared at him. They were naked together. She never would have dreamed that would ever happen. But here they were. He stepped forward and dragged her against him. His mouth came to hers again, rough and demanding, but utterly and sinfully pleasurable. She lost herself when he tasted her, sucking her tongue like he had laved her tingling nipple.

No, I have made sure of that over the past few weeks, hell, over the past few years. But I want to correct that. I…" He hesitated. "I love you, Mariah."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. She was dreaming. Except when she pinched herself, she remained just where she was, only with a sore spot tingling her arm.

"I do want a wife," he continued. "To protect me as much as I protect her. To be a partner. A friend. A lover. That wife is you. It could only ever be you.

Her name is Lysandra Keates, and she arrived uninvited on my doorstep a few days ago. I do not know the particulars of her situation as of yet, but my impression is that she is in dire straits. She has begged me to match her with a man." "I am not looking for a mistress!" Andrew snapped, but he couldn't help a brief, powerful image of the girl in the garden…in his bed, her legs wrapped around him as he drove into her.

No!" he cried and his face pinched with frustration and pain. "I don't want to hear more reasons why we shouldn't be together. No more confessions to explain why you want to run away from what we share."
"Julian," she attempted to interrupt again, but he held up a trembling hand.
His dark gaze held hers. "I have moved heaven and earth to bring you back to me. I refuse to let you leave again. You are mine and you shall be mine for the rest of my life. Not as my mistress, but as my wife. And if you don't say yes, I shall be forced to drag you into Hyde Park and make love to you in plain view of everyone. Then you will have to accept my proposal in order to save your reputation." His face softened. "I love you, Cecilia.

Tears welled in Penelope's eyes, making the blue even darker. Then she reeled back and slapped him hard enough that his cheek stung.
"That is for what you did to me. Not in the dark, Jeremy. Not as the faceless lover. Not even for today when you made love to me ... or perhaps we should call it 'fucking', since there was nothing loving about it, only manipulation". Her voice shook as hard as her hands as she turned on her heel and headed for the door. "It's for betraying my friendship".

Benedict, it is true I cannot accept any future you have offered me. We both know why." Except he didn't, but he said nothing and she continued. "But I would be lying if I told you that I didn't still…think of you. Of us."

He stared. Was this happening? Was she truly saying these things after three years of polite distance and pretending to be friends? "You do," he said, flat and emotionless for he feared revealing too much.

She nodded. "It seems there is unfinished business between us. On both sides. And since everything is about to change, I wonder if we should resolve that business, if only so it won't haunt us."

"What are you saying?" he asked softly. She swallowed and her voice trembled as she whispered, "Be with me again.

What else matters but pedigree and rumor, my lord? Those things make the world go around.

There was a heated spell being woven in the room, shrinking the world down to just the two of them.

He all but held his breath as he waited for her to force that façade back into place. Or to leave his side just so he would no longer see her girlish delight at the museum and the contents that awaited them. Instead, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and looked up at him with those same shining eyes and wide, real smile. "I cannot wait another moment to see everything - shall we go in?" For a moment, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move as he stared into her eyes and saw so much beauty, so much truth…but then he shook his head and led her into the museum. This was a rare opportunity. He refused to miss a moment of it while he pondered what he had done to deserve it.

What if I had refused your request?" she said with a shake of her head. He laughed. "Then I would have had my carriage turned around, of course." She folded her arms with a smile she couldn't help. "You are always so certain of yourself." His smile faded slightly. "Never with you. You forever set me off my axis." He inched closer and suddenly there was a tension in the carriage that had nothing to do with teasing flirtation or friendly discussion. He wanted her. And Vivien wanted him equally.

Rakes make good husbands. Especially when they fall in love.

Good morning," he drawled. She straightened her shoulders with the silent reminder that she had to be as distant as he was. "My lord." He gave her an indulgent smirk. "As much as I like to be referred to as your lord, I think we've gone far beyond those empty platitudes. You have called me Ethan several times." He hesitated and tapped his chin. "Actually you moaned it once. I prefer you call me that while we are alone together.

Most certainly not. Why face this with honesty and directness? It is so much more fun to dance around the truth, dodge the reality of the situation, which is that you are in love with this man, you share some kind of unhappy past with him ... and that he has feelings for you, as well. Why would you ever wish to deal with that head on?

Her knees began to shake, not because he was beautiful, which he had always been, but because coming into this room with him here waiting for her ... it was like coming home.

She's having a party, you
know. This coming week."
He took a sip of wine. "I know. I received an invitation this morning before you arrived.
According to her flowing prose, I am to be the guest of honor." He shuddered.
Miranda couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, my mother is quite taken with you now that you're assisting us financially. I'm sure she'll fawn over you all evening."
He downed the remainder of his wine in one swig. "Dear God, now I wish I hadn't accepted the invitation."
She giggled at his twisted, pained expression. "Oh, of course you must come. Drink the wine, appreciate the orchestra. After all, you're paying for it."
Ethan's expression went from a playfully pained one to a truly pained one for a brief instant. His frown drew down and he looked at her evenly.
"No, Miranda. I believe it is you who are paying," he said softly.

And I see you have not resisted their lure either." He motioned toward her books. "Might I look at your selections?" She hesitated and clutched her books closer out of habit. She had often felt that the books one read were a peek into the soul of the reader. That was why her personal library was kept in a locked room very separate from the places where her visitors went for her wild parties. Sharing these selections with Benedict felt so very intimate.

Someone who has come through heartache and maintains wit and charm is far more interesting than someone who has been kept on a pedestal all her life.

Lysandra held her gaze for a long moment. "Benedict is a good man." She couldn't smile. It was too painful. "Indeed he is."

"Isn't there any way to be with him?" Lysandra pressed. Vivien swallowed. She wasn't even going to deny that was her heart's desire. "No. Not with my reputation."

"But Lysandra and I each came from similar backgrounds and our husbands - " Mariah began.

Vivien lifted a hand to stop her. "You did not come from anything like my background. Lysandra never had a lover beyond her husband and you married a rake with a terrible reputation who could be expected to do something so shocking. Neither of you were ever the most notorious woman in the city.

Miranda, there is nothing I would rather do that fuck you. She flinched at his bluntness and Ethan's frown darkened. Don't recoil from that word. It is exactly what I want. I don't want to make love to you like a gentleman. I want to pound into you. I want to tie you down and make you beg. I want to lick every inch of your body until you're so wet with need that I almost slide out of you on every damned stroke.

He was changed, burned, branded, destroyed and rebuilt. And he loved it.

Yes, but it is difficult to get what we need when it isn't what we truly want.

Andrew followed the direction of her elegant hand and was surprised to see that there was, indeed, a woman in the garden below. "Yes?" He turned toward Vivien and found she was holding out a spyglass for him. "Look a little closer, you could hardly see any detail of her from all the way up here." He tilted his head in increasing confusion. "Vivien - " "Please," she insisted, her tone firm.

With a grunt, Andrew took the glass from her hand and peered through the viewer to the young woman below. As he focused on her face, his breath caught. She was utterly lovely. Chestnut locks framed a face with high cheekbones and full lips, not to mention china-blue eyes that lit up with delight as she paused to sniff this flower or that. Her clothing was well-worn, but when she twisted to observe her surroundings, it accentuated soft curves. Andrew shifted as a most unfamiliar feeling began to stir his loins. Desire, hot and powerful, pumped through his veins, and he lowered the spyglass in shock. He hadn't had such a strong reaction to a woman in years.

"I assume you like what you see," Vivien said softly. Andrew clenched his teeth. There was no hiding the swelling of his cock through the tight breeches he wore, and Vivien was too aware of such things not to notice. "She is, obviously, very pretty," he said coolly as he handed the glass back to Vivien and turned away. He tried to think of anything, anyone, that might force the inconvenient blood upward. "She is look

Don't you know, Vivien? You never have to demand from me. Simply ask for what you desire and I would give you anything." He kissed her. "Anything at all.

I keep it for its sentimental value," he said, his voice harder. "It was the last place we made love before you ended our previous affair.

He nodded. "From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you. It was the night of the Nethercourt gathering three years ago. You wore a green gown and your eyes seemed to be alive with color. You entered the room and I had to have you… I would have had you, except that Owen told me you were his new mistress."

Mariah blinked in increasing disbelief at the detail John could recount of the night of their first meeting. "I - I had no idea of your feelings."

"Of course not." John frowned. "I made certain you did not, nor did Owen. I would not have betrayed him in such a manner. But my desire for you never decreased. Although I suppose that fact is rather clear since I have taken you not once, but twice in recent days. And without much finesse either time, for which I apologize."

Mariah set her cup away and leaned back in the chair to stare at him. "You act as though I received no pleasure from those encounters. I assure you, I did. A great deal, both times."

He smiled, almost in relief. "Good. I would hate to think I have left a poor impression.

For a long time, they leaned against the wall, foreheads pressed together, breathing matched. They were one body, bound by the passion they'd shared. Mariah didn't think she'd felt so close to a lover before. As if he sensed those deeper thoughts, John kissed her cheek with such gentleness that it brought tears to her eyes and withdrew from her.