Ravenna Bit Him Quotes

What happened to your lip?" Ravenna said to him. "It looks sore."
Miss Feather's fingers darted to her mouth.
"Thank you for your kind concern, Miss Caulfield." His eyes were very dark blue and still rimmed with the longest lashed Ravenna had ever seen on a man. Beauty and virility and confidence and sheer privileged arrogance combined to remarkable effect. No wonder these silly girls stared. "It was bitten," he said.
"Oh, dear." Lady Penelope pouted sweetly. "That must have been alarming."
"Not terribly. I have been bitten by cats before." The corner of his mouth twitched. "This one," he said, turning his dark, laughing gaze upon Ravenna, "was otherwise charming."

-Ravenna, Vitor, & Lady Penelope ~ Katharine Ashe

We had fun, didn't we?" she said, her eyes glinting. "Well, apart from the last bit."
Fun? He remembered burying himself inside her and thinking he'd finally come home. He remembered pillowing his head on her breasts and coming apart in her arms. Fun?
She took a step closer, her body language shouting that she was going to lean over the bed rail and kiss him. A long, bittersweet goodbye kiss, no doubt. Jesus, he couldn't bear it. ~ Norah Wilson

Evvy: "Is she going to eat Jooba-hooba? She looks like she's going to bite him, at least."
Briar: "No - if she bit him, he'd die. ~ Tamora Pierce

Heard you had to give a tour today," Will says as if he's reading my mind. "Smart of Pioneer to send you to do it - not that I'm glad he did, but I'm sure it made it hard for that guy to see anything around here besides you."
"You're crazy." My cheeks flush.
"No, just honest," he says, and kisses my blush-heated cheeks. "By the way, nice bed-head."
"Shut up." I pinch him in the stomach and he grunts.
"No, really, I like it. It kind of goes with the little bit of toothpaste you've got right there." He wipes a finger against the corner of my mouth.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Marie," I whisper, and pretend to glare at her.
She giggles. "What're friends for? ~ Amy Christine Parker

You answered… don't hang up" he doesn't speak for a second so I take the time to correct him, "Hi Sorry, this is Eden… Ryan's just a bit preoccupied right now" and then I realise what that must sound like "NOT LIKE THAT, his busy with his brother" I rush out before I can think of what I'm saying "OH MY GOD, not like that either ~ Sarah Clay

He smiled at her. "Now, are you going to thank me properly?"

"I said 'thank you.' That's considered in some cultures as thanking you properly."

"I was hoping for a little more than that."

She studied him for a long moment before she nodded.

"All right." She scooted down a bit on the bed, pulled her gown up high on her thighs, and relaxed back into the mattress. "If you could make it quick before the food gets here, that would be great."

Gwenvael felt a small twitch beneath his eye. He often got something similar right on his eyelid but only when he had to deal with his father. Apparently a new one had developed that belonged only to Lady Dagmar. "That's not what I meant."

"I hope you're not expecting me to get on my knees because I don't think the healer - "

"No!" Good gods, this woman! "That's not what I meant, either."

"That's always what men mean when they ask to be thanked properly."

"Your world frightens me. I want us to be clear on that." He leaned over and grabbed her waist, lifting her until her back again rested on the propped-up pillows.

"I'm unclear as to what you want, then."

"A kiss," he said, pulling her dress back down to her ankles. "A simple kiss. ~ G.A. Aiken

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it - then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. ~ J.K. Rowling

Poor Spud's too pished tae pick up the vibe but, n he's still guan on:
- Naw bit that wis amazing, see if ah could sing like you, Franco –
- Shut the fuck up, Begbie says wi soft menace. Nicksy looks ower tae me wi a fraught, raised brow.
- But ah'm jist sayin – Spud pleads.
- Ah sais tae fuckin well shut it! Right!
Spud falls silent, as does the rest ay the room. We all instantly understand how Begbie sees that this wee fragment ay beauty in his soul has been exposed, and how even through his ain ego and the flattery received, he looks on it as a potential weakness, something that might one day compromise him.
- It's jist fuckin singin, right. ~ Irvine Welsh

Oh," Jace said carelessly, as if he hadn't been waiting out here for the express purpose of seeing Simon off. He looked up, golden gaze casual, then looked away. "You."
Being too cool for school was Jace's thing. Simon supposed he must have understood and been fond of it, once.
"Hey, I figured I wasn't going to get the chance to ask this again. You and me," Simon said. "We're pretty tight, aren't we?"
Jace looked at him for a moment, face very still, and then bounded to his feet and said: "Absolutely. We're like this." He crossed two of his fingers together. "Actually, we're more like this." He tried to cross them again. "We had a little bit of initial tension, as you may later recall, but that was all cleared up when you came to me and confessed that you were struggling with your feelings of intense jealousy over my - these were your words - stunning good looks and irresistible charm."
"Did I," said Simon.
Jace clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, buddy. I remember it clearly."
"Okay, whatever. The thing is … Alec's always really quiet around me," Simon said. "Is he just shy, or did I tick him off and I don't remember it? I wouldn't like to go away without trying to make things right."
Jace's expression took on that peculiar stillness again. "I'm glad you asked me that," he said finally. "There is something more going on. The girls didn't want me to tell you, but the truth is - ~ Cassandra Clare

What are you doing?" I ask, astonished.
"It's called a hug, Toy." He says it with gentle mockery.
He's hugging me to make me feel better.
His arms tighten around me, and I melt into him before I can stop myself. His body is so strong, his grip so firm. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes and breathe in his warm, masculine scent, the faint whiff of cologne and sweat and male musk. Then I circle his waist with my hands and hug him back.
I hug my kidnapper.
I hug my torturer.
I just want to feel better about everything, I want to leave my nightmare behind even if it's just for a few moments of make-believe, so I pretend that he's none of those things. I keep my eyes closed tight and pretend that he's my boyfriend, my lover, my protector. And in a way he is. I have no doubt that if anyone tried to harm me, Joshua would kill them or die trying. He's the only man in my life. The only man who's ever given me an orgasm. When we have sex now, it feels like making love, and he always, always makes sure that I come first.
Why couldn't he have been like this when he first took me? I think I'd have been in love with him by now.
He begins stroking my hair, gently, fingers trailing through the tresses.
"This isn't so bad," he murmurs, and I'm not sure if he's talking to himself or me. And a little bit of me melts. This is probably the first time he's ever hugged anyone, and, heart-breakingly, the first time he's ever been hu ~ Ginger Talbot

How did you meet him?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Here, actually. During a dinner rush. He was sitting at the counter and Isabel knocked a cup of coffee in his lap."
"Ouch," I said.
"No kidding. She was so slammed she just kept moving, so I cleaned it up and made all the apologies. He said it was okay,, no problem, and I laughed and said pretty girls get away with anything." She looked down, twisting her ring a bit so the diamond sat in the centre of her finger, "And he smiled, and looked at Isabel, and said she wasn't his type."
There was a faint cheer from the stadium, and I saw a ball whiz over the far fence and out of sight.
"And so," she went on, "I said, "Oh really? What is your type, exactly?" and he looked up at me and said, "You. ~ Sarah Dessen

I can remember when I was a bit of an ETA fan myself. It was in 1973, when a group of Basque militants assassinated Adm. Carrero Blanco. The admiral was a stone-faced secret police chief, personally groomed to be the successor to the decrepit Francisco Franco. His car blew up, killing only him and his chauffeur with a carefully planted charge, and not only was the world well rid of another fascist, but, more important, the whole scheme of extending Franco's rule was vaporized in the same instant. The dictator had to turn instead to Crown Prince Juan Carlos, who turned out to be the best Bourbon in history and who swiftly dismantled Franco's entire system. If this action was 'terrorism,' it had something to be said for it. Everyone I knew in Spain made a little holiday in their hearts when the gruesome admiral went sky-high. ~ Christopher Hitchens

Eddis looked around as if recalling a question that had nagged at her for several hours. "Where's Eugenides?" she asked.
For a moment the Attolian queen was immobile, her smile gone as if it had never been. The horse under her threw up its head as if the bit had twitched against its delicate mouth.
"Locked in a room," Attolia said flatly. "In Ephrata."
The smile faded from Eddis' face.
"I ordered the other prisoners released," Attolia explained. "I forgot that I had him locked up separately. I doubt my sensechal will have released him without my specific instruction to do so."
"You forgot?" Eddis asked.
"I forgot," Attolia said firmly, daring Eddis to contradict her.
"You will marry him?" Eddis asked, hesitant again.
"I said I would," snapped Attolia, and turned her horse away. Eddis followed. When they joined their officers, Attolia gave brisk orders and then rode on, heading back toward Ephrata without waiting for Eddis. ~ Megan Whalen Turner

Ah." He paused. "I see where this is going. You want to know my secret pain."
"Secret pain?"
"Oh, yes. My inner demons. The dark current of torment washing away little grains of my soul. That's what you're after. You think that if you keep me here in your pretty castle and cosset me with sixteen pillows, I'll learn to love myself and cease submitting my body to such horrific abuse."
Clio bit her lip, grateful it was too dark for him to see her blush. If she'd been flamingo pink the other day, she must be fuchsia now. "I don't know where you get these ideas."
He chuckled. "From every woman I've ever met. You're not the first to try it, and you won't be the last. ~ Tessa Dare

But, you're his son," I said, trying really hard to hate him. "You're the son of Satan. Literally."
"And you are the stepdaughter of Denise Davidson."
Wow. That was a bit harsh, but, "Okay, point taken. ~ Darynda Jones

Here, my man, just hold it this way, while I look into it a bit," he said one day to Fitz G., putting a wounded arm into the keeping of a sound one, and proceeding to poke about among bits of bone and visible muscles, in a red and black chasm made by some infernal machine of the shot or shell description. Poor Fitz held on like a grim Death, ashamed to show fear before a woman, till it grew more than he could bear in silence; and, after a few smothered groans,he looked at me imploringly, as if he said, "I wouldn't, ma'am, if I could help it," and fainted quietly away.

Dr. P. looked up, gave a compassionate sort of cluck, and poked away more busily than ever, with a nod at me and a brief - "Never mind; be so good as to hold this till I finish."

I obeyed, cherishing the while a strong desire to insinuate a few of his own disagreeable knives and scissors into him, and see how he liked it. A very disrespectful and ridiculous fancy of course; for he was doing all that could be done, and the arm prospered finely in his hands. But the human mind is prone to prejudice; and though a personable man, speaking French like a born "Parley voo," and whipping off legs like an animated guillotine, I must confess to a sense of relief when he was ordered elsewhere; and suspect that several of the men would have faced a rebel battery with less trepidation than they did Dr. P., when he came briskly in on his morning round. ~ Louisa May Alcott

A woman cannot bear to feel empty and purposeless. But a man may take real pleasure in that feeling. A man can take real pride and satisfaction in pure negation: 'I am quite empty of feeling. I don't care the slightest bit in the world for anybody or anything except myself. But I do care for myself, and I'm going to survive in spite of them all, and I'm going to have my own success without caring the least in the world how I get it. Because I'm cleverer than they are, I'm cunninger than they are, even if I'm weak. I must build myself up proper protections, and entrench myself, and then I'm safe. I can sit inside my glass tower and feel nothing and be touched by nothing, and yet exert my power, my will, through the glass walls of my ego'.
That, roughly, is the condition of a man who accepts the condition of true egoism, and emptiness, in himself. He has a certain pride in the condition, since in pure emptiness of real feeling he can still carry out his ambition, his will to egoistic success.

Now I doubt if a woman can feel like this. The most egoistic woman is always in a tangle of hate, if not of love. But the true male egoist neither hates nor loves. He is quite empty, at the middle of him. Only on the surface he has feelings: and these he is always trying to get away from. Inwardly, he feels nothing. And when he feels nothing, he exults in his ego and knows he is safe. Safe, within his fortifications, inside his glass tower.

But I doubt if women c ~ D.H. Lawrence

You stole his truck?"
"Borrowed," Prophet corrected. "Remy thought of it when I took him home."
"Did you just blame a fifteen-year-old kid for why you stole - "
" - borrowed - "
" - a truck?"
Prophet shrugged. "Little bit. ~ S.E. Jakes

I guess you'll just have to get used to having a police car outside the grocery store, the gym, and wherever it is you go for lunch with your friends," Jack lectured. "And this goes without saying: you need to be careful. The police surveillance is a precautionary measure, but they can't be everywhere. You should stick to familiar surroundings, and be vigilant and alert at all times."

"I got it. No walking through dark alleys while talking on my cell phone, no running at night with my iPod, no checking out suspicious noises in the basement."

"I seriously hope you're not doing any of those things anyway."

"Of course not."

Jack pinned her with his gaze.

She shifted against the counter. "Okay, maybe, sometimes, I've been known to listen to a Black Eyed Peas song or two while running at night. They get me moving after a long day at work."

Jack seemed wholly unimpressed with this excuse. "Well, you and the Peas better get used to running indoors on a treadmill."

Conscious of Wilkins's presence, and the fact that he was watching her and Jack with what appeared to be amusement, Cameron bit back her retort.

Thirty thousand hotel rooms in the city of Chicago and she picked the one that would lead her back to him. ~ Julie James

I squinted at the cue ball, then at the triangle of balls farther down the table.
"You're a tiny bit off," I said.
I felt him smile. "How much you want to bet?"
"Five dollars."
I felt him give a soft shake of his head.
"Your jacket."
"You want my jacket?"
"I want it off. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Then his hands were around her waist as he lifted her up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held her.
Wow, didn't realize the man was so strong, didn't know
She licked his throat.
Screw it.
Lora wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock pushed against her, pressing right at the wet entrance to her sex.
She arched toward him just as Kenton slammed deep.
So deep.
She bit her lip to hold back the scream.
Skin to skin. Hot. Slick. So full. ~ Cynthia Eden

They bit you. You should've changed, too, you know."
"Sometimes I wish I had," I told him.
He closed his eyes, miles away on the other side of the bed. "Sometimes I do, too. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

On a construction site sabotage could be potentially deadly. Alarm jumped through her. "Is anyone hurt?"
"No, thankfully. But… I need to be there."
"Then go. I've got my communicator and everyone knows I'm yours now anyway." She liked saying that she was his. He liked it as well if the smoldering look he gave her was any indication.
As the elevator made a soft ding, she leaned up and kissed him, not caring about the public affection. He didn't seem to mind either as he deepened the kiss for a little longer than was probably publicly acceptable.
When the doors opened, there were two males inside who didn't appear to be getting off - until Con growled at them. Without pause, they politely stepped off and let her get on. Even though there was enough room for about twenty warriors, apparently Con was feeling extra protective today.
She bit back a smile and blew him a kiss goodbye in full view of the two males. To her surprise his ears tinged red.
It was the last thing she saw before the doors closed. A short laugh escaped as she pressed the correct floor. ~ Savannah Stuart

Ladies. I'm fine," said Sam.
"Mm-hm," said Avani, her hands on her hips. "You be sure and tell me that when you wake up in the middle of the night and pus is leaking out of your stomach and your skin's turning green."
He looked a bit taken aback and studied his middle more closely.
"You'll be fine," I said. "At least for a little while."
"Or we could cauterize it," said Avani, her face lighting up.
"Cauterize?" Sam echoed, looking slightly panicked. "Like, with fire?"
"Yes!" She grinned even wider. "I've read how to do it. I definitely could."
"I should've let the sexually frustrated elephant rip my guts out," Sam muttered. "At least it had the decency not to smile while it contemplated my murder."
Avani rolled her eyes. "Sam, you gonna put your shirt back on? Before Sarah here starts to hyperventilate?"
Looking thoroughly chastened, Sam shrugged his shirt on. I hissed at Avani through the corner of my mouth as he walked away. "Hyperventilate?"
She shrugged and inspected her nails. "You were studying him like you were prepping for an anatomy exam."
"I was not! ~ Jessica Khoury

Slight and ridiculous as the incident was, it made him appear such a little fiend, and withal such a keen and knowing one, that the old woman felt too much afraid of him to utter a single word, and suffered herself to be led with extraordinary politeness to the breakfast-table. Here he by no means diminished the impression he had just produced, for he ate hard eggs, shell and all, devoured gigantic prawns with the heads and tails on, chewed tobacco and water-cresses at the same time and with extraordinary greediness, drank boiling tea without winking, bit his fork and spoon till they bent again, and in short performed so many horrifying and uncommon acts that the women were nearly frightened out of their wits, and began to doubt if he were really a human creature. ~ Charles Dickens

Now, the last one was that the demon king can't stand either in heaven or on the earth. Urga set the demon on his lap, which means I guess I'll have to…sit on your back."
Awkward. Even though Ren was a big tiger and it would be like riding a small pony, I was still conscious that he was a man, and I didn't feel right about turning him into a pack animal. I took off my backpack and set it down wondering what I could do to make this a bit less embarrassing. Mustering the courage to sit on his back, I'd just decided that it wouldn't be too bad if I sat sidesaddle, when my feet flew out from under me.
Ren had changed into a man and swept me up into his arms. I wiggled for a minute, protesting, but he just gave me a look-the don't-even-bother-coming-up-with-an-argument look. I shut my mouth. He leaned over to pick up the backpack, let it dangle from his fingers, and then said, "What's next?"
"I don't know. That's all that Mr. Kadam told me."
He shifted me in his arms, walked over to stand in the doorway again, then peered up at the statue. He murmured, "I don't see any changes."
He held me securely while looking at the statue and, I have to admit, I totally stopped caring about what we were doing. The scratches on my arm that had been throbbing a moment ago didn't bother me at all. I let myself enjoy the feeling of being cuddled up close to his muscular chest. What girl didn't want to be swept up in the arms of a drop-dead gorgeous man? I allowed my gaze t ~ Colleen Houck

She slid a slim volume of poetry off the shelf and returned to her chair, swishing her rather unnattractive skirts before she sat down.
Benedict frowned. He'd never really noticed before how ugly her dress was. Not as bad as the one Mrs. Cabtree had lent her, but certainly not anything designed to bring out the best in a woman.
He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it,of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned...
"Mr. Bridgerton?"
But how could he manage to burn her dress? She'd have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself...
"Are you even listening to me?" Sophie demanded.
"Hmmm?"
"You're not listening to me."
"Sorry," he admitted. "My apologies. My mind got away from me. Please continue."
She began anew, and in his attempt to show how much attention he was paying her, he focused his eyes on her lips, which proved to be a big mistake.
Because suddenly those lips were all he could see, and he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her, and he knew- absolutely knew-that if one of them didn't leave the room in the next thirty seconds, he was going to do something for which he'd owe her a thousand apologies.
Not that he didn't plan to seduce her. Just that he'd rather do it with a bit more finesse.
"Oh, dear," he blurted out.
Sophie gave him an odd look. He didn't blame her. He sounded like a complete idiot. He didn't think he'd uttered t ~ Julia Quinn

the remnants of her Georgia drawl always sounded a bit sad. She made him think of an aging Scarlett O'Hara torn from Tara's halls but clinging to her pride and, with the help of a beauty parlor, her flaming hair. ~ Richard Laymon

to Russell Vernon Hunter

New York
Spring 1932

My dear Vernon Hunter

Your letter gives me such a vivid picture of some thing I love in space - love almost as passionately as I can love a person - that I am almost tempted to pack my little bag and go - but I will not go to it right this morning - No matter how much I love it - There is some thing in me that must finish jobs once started - when I can - .

So I am here - and what you write of me is there

The cockscomb is here too - I put it in much cold water and it came to life from a kind of flatness it had in the box when I opened it - tho it was very beautiful as it lay in the box a bit wilted when I opened it - . I love it - Thank you.

I must confess to you - that I even have the desire to go into old Mexico - that I would have gone - undoubtedly - if it were only myself that I considered - You are wise - so wise - in staying in your own country that you know and love - I am divided between my man and a life with him - and some thing of the outdoors - of your world - that is in my blood - and that I know I will never get rid of - I have to get along with my divided self the best way I can - .

So give my greetings to the sun and the sky - and the wind - and the dry never ending land

- Sincerely

Georgia O'Keeffe ~ Georgia O'Keeffe

My own feeling about JJ, without knowing anything about him, was that he might have been a gay person, because he had long hair and spoke American. A lot of Americans are gay people, aren't they? I know they didn't invent gayness, because they say that was the Greeks. But they helped bring it back into fashion. Being gay was a bit like the Olympics: it disappeared in ancient times, and then they brought it back in the twentieth century. Anyway, I didn't know anything about gays, so I just presumed they were all unhappy and wanted to kill themselves. ~ Nick Hornby

His enticing hazel greens had me begging for him. I couldn't stand it anymore-what a temptation! I wanted to taste every bit of him. ~ Elena Carpenter

A strange, ever-changing female scent hit him, and Aedion found Lysandra leaning against the hallway door. Tears gleamed in her eyes even as she smiled.
She gazed at the closed bedroom door, as if she could still see the prince and queen inside. "That," she said, more to herself than to him. "That is what I am going to find one day."
"A gorgeous Fae warrior?" Aedion said, shifting a bit.
Lysandra chuckled, wiping away her tears, and gave him a knowing look before walking away. ~ Sarah J. Maas

When Sterling's eyesight did finally fail him completely, we were
up in years, content to sit in our garden and reflect on what a
wondrous and exciting life we'd led. He did not see my hair fade into
silver. For him it was always a vibrant red. I watched him age
gracefully and with dignity. He leaned on me much more than he
did his walking stick, which was how it should be, because when I
needed him most, he was always there for me. Each day I thought I
could love him no more than I already did - and the following
morning I was always proven wrong, for I awoke loving him just a
little bit more. ~ Lorraine Heath

I had him in my cab once.

Who? Neville asked

Rupert Brooke. He was good, him. "There's some corner of a foreign field/ That is forever England".

That would be the bit with my nose under it; just fucking drive, will you? ~ Pat Barker

We have a flabby public opinion which would wring its hands in anguish if we took the labor leader by the scruff of his neck, backed him up against a wall, and filled him with lead. Countries which consider themselves every bit as civilized as we do not hesitate about such matters for a moment. Whenever ~ Upton Sinclair

The sound of diesel fuel rushing through grimy pistons and cylinders below a morning-fogged window bored through his ears like a deep-water drill bit, and the thump of his own heartbeat cursed him for breaking one of his many rules. ~ Luke Taylor

Drop heavy," Kaz shouted, and Wylan let loose with every rocket, flash bomb, and bit of demo he'd been able to fit into the boat. The sky above the Van Eck house exploded in an array of light, smoke, and sound as the guards dove for cover.
Kaz put his arms to work, feeling the boat slide into the current as they passed into the glittering traffic of Geldcanal.
"In and out without him ever knowing?" said Rotty. ~ Leigh Bardugo

She had left her legs bare, and if he wasn't mistaken, they had a slight sheen. He realized she'd caught him staring when she cleared her throat.
"Are your legs ... sparkly?" he managed to ask, feeling the need to explain since he'd been caught leering.
"My body lotion has a little bit of glitter in it," she said with a trace of diffidence.
She seemed apologetic. For what, he had no idea. ~ Linda Morris

I heard the bathroom door close and I kept my eyes screwed shut, but my heart skyrocketed into uncharted territories. I folded my arms around me and held my breath.
There was the slightest movement behind me. Skin brushed against mine. A fine shiver rolled up my spine. An infinite spark transferred between us, something that couldn't be replicated or forced. How could I've forgotten that when connected with Seth? My heart turned over heavily.
Aiden brushed the mass of thick hair over one shoulder and his lips met the space between my neck and shoulder. His hands slid down the slick skin of my arms, cupping over my elbows and then to my wrists. Gently, slowly, he eased my arms to my sides.
I bit down on my lip and my legs started trembling. But he was there. Like always, holding me up when I couldn't stand on and letting me go when he knew I needed him to. He was more than just a shelter. AIden was my other half, my equal. And he needed no weird Apollyon connection.
Aiden waited, still as a statue, patient as ever, until my muscles unlocked, one by one. Then his hands dropped to my waist and he turned me toward him. A heartbeat passed and he placed his fingers on my chin, tipping my head back.
I opened my eyes, blinking the wetness off my lashes, and the air hitched in my throat. Faint, purplish bruises shadowed his jaw. There was a cut over the bridge of his nose. No doubt injuries I had given him. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

A bit of old parchment!' said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. 'Explain, George.'
'Well ... when we were in our first year, Harry-young, carefree, and innocent-'
Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.
'-well, more innocent than we are now-we got into a spot of bother with Filch. ~ J.K. Rowling

Probably nothing," Tom ventured, wanting it to be true.
Prophet didn't argue, but they both decided that school was off-limits for a bit. Remy, of course, didn't mind a damned bit. Mal offered to tutor him in the interim and that actually worked out quite well. Then again, for all Tom knew, math was a code for bomb building.
When he mentioned that to Prophet, all he got in response was, "They're both useful life skills. ~ S.E. Jakes

I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves.

Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing - already shallow - ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be - his mate, his wife, his world.

The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me.

The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf's arms. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

A beautiful young clerk might flirt with him as he browsed, but she'd never see what I did. She'd see only his shiny shell, snapped shut to hide a jumble of secondhand parts, ticking not quite as they should, but ticking nonetheless. A bit rusty. A bit erratic, like my heartbeat in the moments before I press his buzzer. ~ Cara McKenna

Have you talked about how many children you'd like to have?"
"Yes, sir," Marlboro Man said.
"And?" Father Johnson prodded.
"I'd like to have six or so," Marlboro Man answered, a virile smile spreading across his face.
"And what about Ree?" Father Johnson asked.
"Well, she says she'd like to have one," Marlboro Man said, looking at me and touching my knee. "But I'm workin' on her."
Father Johnson wrinkled his brow.
"How do you and Ree resolve conflict?"
"Well…," Marlboro Man replied. "To tell you the truth, we haven't really had much conflict to speak of. We get along pretty darn well."
Father Johnson looked over his glasses. "I'm sure you can think of something." He wanted some dirt.
Marlboro Man tapped his boot on the sterile floor of Father Johnson's study and looked His Excellence straight in the eye. "Well, she fell off her horse once when we went riding together," he began. "And that upset her a little bit. And a while back, I dragged her to a fire with me and it got a little dicey…" Marlboro Man and I looked at each other. It was the largest "conflict" we'd had, and it had lasted fewer than twelve hours.
Father Johnson looked at me. "How did you deal with that, Ree?"
I froze. "Uh…uh…" I tapped my Donald Pliner mule on the floor. "I told him how I felt. And after that it was fine."
I hated every minute of this. I didn't want to be examined. I didn't want my relationship with Marlboro Man to be dissected wit ~ Ree Drummond

Jane and Mr. Nobley entered the great hall, the ceiling dazzling with thousands of real candles that put fire into the white dresses and cravats. Five musicians were seated on a dais--a cello and two violins (or maybe a viola?), a harpsichord, and some kind of wind instrument. From keys and strings, they coaxed a grand prelude to the minuet. Jane looked at everything, smiling at the amusement park novelty of it all. She looked at Mr. Nobley. He was beaming at her. At last.
"You are stunning," he said, and every inch of him seemed to swear that it was true.
"Oh," she said.
He kissed her gloved fingers. He was still smiling. There was something different about him tonight, and she couldn't place what it was. Some new plot twist, she presumed. She was eager to roll around in all the plot she could on her last night, though once or twice her eyes strayed to spot Martin.
Mr. Nobley stood opposite her in a line of ten men. She watched Amelia and Captain East perform the figures. They held each other's gazes, they smiled with the elation of new love. All very convincing.
Poor Amelia, thought Jane.
It was a bit cruel, now that she thought about it, all these actors who made women fall in love with them. Amelia seemed so tenderhearted, and Miss Charming and her heaving breasts so delighted with this world. Jane caught sight of a very striking Colonel Andrews who, now that she watched him dance, might just be gay.
Jane felt a thrumming of foreboding. ~ Shannon Hale