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Famous Kristen Callihan Quotes

“His eyes, pale as the glowing pool, pinned me to the spot. So much heat in them. Heat and need and a shadow of frustration, as though he didn't want to want me. His voice lowered, thick as hot cream. "Em, if you're naked in front of me, there's going to be touching." Yes, please. Now would be good. "Pretty presumptuous of you, honey pie." Lucian, the rat bastard, smiled, those hot eyes intent on my face. "Who said it had to be you I'm touching?" "What?" I could barely think. His nearness was making me light headed. "I'm not above taking matters into my own hand, if that's the only option." I pictured him handling all that... girth. The bottom dropped out of me. "Oh, well played----" Water ripped, and he was there, big body surrounding me, his mouth inches from mine. "To be clear," he murmured, "if you're naked in front of me, I'd rather touch you." He was so close, vividly present. Deliciously beautiful. My lids lowered, my lips parting with the need to feel his. I wanted. I wanted. Our legs brushed under the water, and a shiver danced up my thighs. Lucian grabbed the edge of the pool to brace himself, his arms bracketing me, which made it worse. Water droplets glinted on the dips and swells along his shoulders and arms, drawing my attention to the sheer strength of his body and how good it would feel to touch him.”

TemptationTouchingSexual TensionForeplaySo Close Yet So Far
Book:Make It Sweet
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“The whole of my life I have relied on my beauty first, brains second. It was expected, even requested. But You saw right through me from the start. You are the only man I've ever known who has looked beyond my face and wanted to know me for me. And I find myself wanting you to know the whole me.”

WantLoveRealPassionBrainBeautyPureManReal LoveKnow MeFacePure LoveWantingTrue MeaningFirelightLookedKristen CallihanBeauty FirstBeyond My FaceRight ThroughSaw Right ThroughWhole Me
Book:Firelight
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“A kiss, he said, is a conversation. Easing closer, he continued to speak as he caressed her cheeks with featherlight stokes of his thumbs. "A first kiss", his lips neared hers, is an introduction and then his mouth brushed against hers. The contact sparked, sharp and bright like lightning, yet his lips were soft, unexpectedly so. Her breath caught the same instant his did. Against her mouth he whispered "That was Hello" His breath mingled with hers as he waited, his lips so close she could feel their warmth. For a moment she simply breathed him in growing heady on the scent of him and the tight anticipation gathering in her belly. Then she understood. Nerves fluttering, she brushed her lips across his as he had done. Again his breath hitched, as if he too felt that same spark, that hot need. Her eyes drifted closed and his voice poured over her like warm cream. "This is, 'I'm Jack'.”

KissingKissFirst Kiss
Book:Shadowdance
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“I made you nervous? I was ready to get on my knees, Em." My heart flipped over in my chest, and I covered the moment by fumbling with the string holding the box closed. It slipped free with a jerk, and the box, designed to open like a flower, revealed its gift. A gasp escaped me. Nestled in a white cloud of spun sugar was a perfect little sphere-shaped gâteau covered in chocolate so dark and glossy it shone like midnight. But that wasn't what had my mouth falling open in awe. Resting on the very top of the orb was a pink-and-gold butterfly made of sugar glass. The delicate wings were so fine and thin the light shone through them. It looked so real I half expected it to fly away. "Lucian..." "This is how I see you sometimes," he said in a low voice, eyes on the gâteau. "Beautiful and rare, something not to be contained but treasured.”

GiftChocolateButterflySymbolicDessert
Book:Make It Sweet
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“Some of us know that looks aren't everything, Con Man." Because that's what he was--- a perfect con, tricking others into believing he should be adored. "Beauty fades, and the ugliness inside you will eventually show." He straightened then, looming over me with a sneer. "I suppose you're one those people who sees past beauty and only loves someone for their personality?" I felt the setup. I just didn't know where it was going or how to avoid it. I thrust my chin high and played it cool. "I am." He nodded as if confirming something only he knew before leaning in close. When most boys back then smelled of an overabundance of supermarket body spray, Macon smelled of cedar soap and do-me pheromones. "Tell me, Tater Tot, is it a beautiful soul you're looking at when you moon over the half-naked-firefighters calendar you have pinned in your room?" All the blood rushed from my face, leaving painful prickles in its wake. Macon's smile was cutting. "I don't believe for a second that you like Hayes for his riveting personality. You act all high and mighty while you're as susceptible to good looks as the rest of us. At least I have the guts to admit it.”

Inner BeautyStanding Up For YourselfScent Of A ManHypocrisy In EveryoneLooks Are DeceivingCalled Out OnesVerbal Attacks
Book:Dear Enemy
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“I don't need the aggravation of my staff members avoiding each other when the sex goes stale. And believe me, it will." I want to laugh. I want to slap his face. As it is, my breathing comes on quick and fast. "Which means North is really only off limits while I work for you. Good to know." A streak of red spears across the tops of Macon's cheeks, and I swear the man growls. It rumbles in that wide chest of his as his moth tightens. "He's not for you, Delilah. Unless, of course, you're into having Sam's leftovers." As if I've been slapped, my breath hitches. Oh, that was low. Not only to me but to North as well. My face feels tight and hot. And for an instant, something that looks like guilt flickers in Macon's brown eyes, but it's quickly smothered by stubborn self-righteousness and a pugnacious lift of his chin. "Well then," I manage, "I guess that leaves you out of the running too.”

JealousyEnemies To LoversBickeringLow Blow
Book:Dear Enemy
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“That's no secret, honeybee." "Honeybee?" she repeated, a warning in her voice. I bit back a grin. "If II'm going to be a honey pie, makes sense you'd be the bee." The sweep of her brows lowered ominously. "Why? Because I'm after your honey?" She scoffed long and loud, and I had to laugh. If anyone was after honey here, it was me. "Bees make honey, Em." I nudged her again, hard enough to rock her and make her squeak with a laugh. "And you seem intent upon making me sweet.”

SweetBook TitleHoneybeeMake Me
Book:Make It Sweet
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“Hey Tot, You probably hate that name, don't you? Thinking it's an insult, a commentary about your appearance. Maybe it started out that way, me trying to put you down, put you in your place--- somewhere far from me, where you couldn't make me feel like I was bleeding from the inside out. But I don't think of it that way anymore. It makes me think of you as a hot little bite I want to sink my teeth into. Truth? I'd wanted to do that even when I said the words. I always wanted to sink into you. Didn't matter if you drove me crazy, I wanted it so much it made my teeth hurt.”

LetterEnemies To Lovers RomanceNicknameTater Tots
Book:Dear Enemy
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“He was horrible to me," I say firmly. Mama waves a hand. "That doesn't mean anything. You know, they say boys are meanest to the girls they like the best." "I hate that saying. Meanness is meanness. To tell a girl that there's some sort of benevolent action behind it all is to say that it's okay for her to be victimized." Mama stares up at me for a moment, then shakes her head. "You're right, pumpkin. I don't know why I said that." JoJo snorts again. Because you and I were raised with 'boys will be boys' tossed in our faces." She sits back in her chair and turns her face to the sunlight. "I say it should be 'dicks will be dicks, and a misbehaving dick deserves a knee to the balls.”

ChildhoodBullyPast Trauma
Book:Dear Enemy
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“His dark eyes suddenly appear a little boyish. "Can you, ah, put bubbles in?" I grin wide. "You want a bubble bath?" "Hey. The bubbles help keep in the heat, and they smell nice." The man is a good ten inches taller than me, with shoulders twice as wide. The world knows him as a barbarian warlord king-killer on their favorite show. But he is adorable just now. "You don't have to convince me," I say lightly. "I love a good bubble bath." "Do you now?" he murmurs under his breath but then gives me an innocent look when I glance back. He wasn't kidding about his love of bubbles. Multiple bath gels and a nice wide loofah wait on a rack by the tub. I eye it, and he shifts his weight as if being caught out. Not hiding my smile, I pour some gel into the water rushing from the faucet. The scents of bergamot and warm vanilla fill the humid air. It's a subtle fragrance but delicious, like sticking your nose into the warm crook of a well-groomed man's neck.”

Bubble BathHot Romantic Suspense
Book:Dear Enemy
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“I love you." He stabbed a thumb at his chest as he glared at her. Of course he did. Lucien had never hidden the fact. But the love of a friend, while comforting, was not enough anymore. It did not soothe the restless discomfort that pushed against her chest or quell the loneliness that seemed to grow within her each passing day.”

LoveHeartFantasyLove YouLonelinessFriendRestlessGrowChestStabbedLove Of A FriendPassing DayQuellUnrequited Love Lonely
Book:Shadowdance
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“If you knew I was there, then why did you…” Her words died on a flush. Bloody Talent. “Pleasure myself?” he offered helpfully. ... “I admit,” she said, “it baffles me that you didn’t fly into a rage the moment you realized I was there. You were unclothed, for pity’s sake.” Fierce heat filled her cheeks. She needed to stop talking altogether. Talent’s mouth trembled at the corner, his eyes alight with utter glee. “Chase, the idea of a woman watching is in no way a deterrent for a man. It adds a level of excitement.” She would die now. Surely fate could be kind to her for once.”

BustedEmbarrassing MomentVerbal Foreplay
Book:Shadowdance
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“Together, we construct the sandwiches, using a blend of muenster, because it was what her mother favored, and provolone, because Delilah thinks it adds a deeper flavor--- and liberally buttering the bread because, Delilah informs me, it's all about the butter. "Now," she says, laying two sandwiches on the hot pan. "Here is where you learn that cooking involves all the senses. Taste, yes. But also sound. Listen. The butter is sizzling. No sound means it's not cooking the right way. The pan is either too low or too hot." We listen to the sizzle. "Sight," she says. "We need to see that beautiful butter hopping and bubbling around the edges of the pan." Dutifully, I watch. How can I not? She is in total command. "Smell." She wafts her hand over the pan, letting the warm scent of browning butter and bread wash over us. "This is more important when you're adding herbs and spices. Does the dish smell as it should? It's something you learn on the way. Flip the sandwiches." I take the spatula from her and do as asked. The bread is perfectly browned. "Feeling. You have to feel how the food is behaving. The texture of it. Now, with grilled cheese, you don't want to cook it too fast, or the cheese won't melt. Hear how the sound has dimmed?" I nod. "We need to add more butter; turn the heat down just a bit." She walks me through the entire process, teaching me to control the heat, baby the sandwiches to get them how I want. All the time our shoulders are brushing, our moves in coordination for a common goal. A sense of calm spreads over me. I'm not thinking about work or the outside world. I'm not angry or empty. I'm filled up. I'm here, with her. We get the sandwiches on plates, and she hands me a knife. "The best part. Cutting it open." Her brow wings up in warning. "Only cut on the diagonal. Down the middle is a sin against grilled cheese." "Please," I say, with feeling. "As if I'd sink so low." I make the first cut and am rewarded with a fine crunch of sound, followed by the ooze of gooey cheese. Perfection. "Taste. Take a bite," Delilah urges with childlike excitement. I take a bite. "Close your eyes," she says. "Tell me what you think when you taste it." You. Me. Delilah wearing braces, her thick hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that highlights the roundness of her face. Her gold eyes glaring at me from opposite her mother's kitchen table. Home. Safety.”

CookingSensesButterChildhood MemoryKitchen RomanceGrilled Cheese Sandwiches
Book:Dear Enemy
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“Rest back again." He does and then groans when I start massaging the shampoo into his hair. The sound goes straight to my core. I work slowly. Slower than I should, but it feels good to have my hands on him. My fingers glide over the hard curve of his skull, down to the thick cords of his neck. "God," he whispers. "Please don't stop." His muscles are so strong here that it hurts my fingers to dig in, but his noises of pleasure and the way he leans into my touch keep me going. Foam rinses around my hands; water trickles down the tan column of his neck to wander over the hills and valleys of his wide-set shoulders. My lips swell with the need to follow those waterdrops, press against his wet skin. I bite the inside of my cheek. Macon sighs, his lids lowering, and I move closer, my breasts hitting the back of the tub. I push along the rise of his shoulders. They're like silk over granite, slippery wet and warm. He grunts, and I do it again. He leans into my hands, whimpering softly. I take the moment to rise and turn on the taps again. We don't speak as I rinse the shampoo from his hair. It's a strange thing, taking care of him this way. I'm turned on--- more than I thought I could be. It's a low hum in my body, the lush swelling of my breasts, of my sex. It's in the painful tenderness in my nipples and the sensitive edges of my lips. I want to savor him like I do fine dark chocolate, letting each bite melt on my tongue, lingering over the delicious taste of it.”

MusclesMassageIntimate ActHot Romantic SuspenseBathe
Book:Dear Enemy
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“The tip of my finger hooked under the top, and I pulled it slowly to the side, feeling the drag. Lucian grunted, low and protracted, as though the sound could make me go faster. The reaction in my body was a delicious clenching of my sex. I arched into that sound, my lids fluttering as I tugged the top farther over, stopping right at the edge of my nipple. And he jerked, the water sloshing. "Em..." The plea came out in a thick rasp. "Baby..." The muscles along his arms bunched as he gripped the lip of the pool, as though trying to hold himself back.”

TemptingSexual AttractionCocktease
Book:Make It Sweet
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“I want a dessert." She turns and starts wiping down the clean counters like it's her new mission in life. "I'll go to the farmers' market and get some ripe fruit." "Not. Fruit." Fact is, I can't eat a mango anymore without wanting to suck on Delilah's tongue. "Something rich and sweet and creamy." And now I'm thinking about sinking to my knees before her. Behind the kitchen island, I reach down and adjust myself. Having zero experience with flirting, I don't think I'm doing a proper job of it. I'm only getting myself riled up here. Especially since Delilah's expression remains deadpan. "I don't think any of that is on the approved list." "I think you bring up that damn list to annoy me, Tot." "This is true." She doesn't bother to hide her glee. Like a bee to nectar, I drift closer. "Come on, Delilah. Cheat with me. Just a little?" Shaking her head in clear exasperation, she tosses the cloth into the sink and faces me. "All right, just this once. Name your poison." She isn't in my arms. My mouth isn't on hers. But it's still a victory, and I rub my hands together in anticipation. "Let's see... oh, God, the choices. Your Totally Toffee-Chip Cookies? Your Mad Monster Chocolate Cake?" I stop to think of all the desserts Delilah has made over the years. "Ah. I know... Bountiful Banana Cream Pie.”

DessertsSexual Hunger
Book:Dear Enemy
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“What was the cake you had ordered?" "A hazelnut sponge with vanilla-and-mango mousse. Vanilla buttercream with a fondant overlay and flowers." Ideas flowed and pinged around my brain, kicking up that heady surge of excitement and challenge once more. This I knew. This I liked. "You're feeding what? Forty?" "Forty-five. Fifty, to be safe." "You want a traditional multitier with buttercream, then we're pushing it. Especially if you expect any sort of elaborate decoration." "The cake feels cursed at this point." Delilah's scowl made me want to smile. It was as if she was personally offended by the bad luck, which I could understand. "I could do croquembouche. That's relatively quick and a crowd-pleaser. There are endless possibilities of gâteau.”

BakingDessertsBrainstormingWedding Cake
Book:Make It Sweet
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“Can you do mango cream in the croquembouche?" Mangoes must have been a thing with them, because Saint grinned. "Of course. How about two croquembouches and perhaps glace au beurre noisette to accompany?" "I think you're my hero," Delilah said with a relieved sigh. "Dessert hero," Saint corrected, but he was smiling, too, in a reserved way that reminded me too much of myself. "Thanks, man. Seriously." "It's not a problem." "What was that last bit you mentioned?" Emma asked, looking a little glazed in the eyes. The woman really did love her desserts. "Browned-butter ice cream. I'll be serving it more as a semifreddo, though, considering the time." "Lord save me." She fanned herself.”

Ice CreamBakingDessertsWedding Cake
Book:Make It Sweet
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“SOME PASTRY TERMS Chef de pâtissier: pastry chef Gâteau: rich, elaborate sponge cake that can be molded into shapes, typically containing layers of crème, fruit, or nuts Pâtisserie(s): pastry/pastries Brioche(s): a soft, rich bread with a high egg and butter content Pain aux raisins: a flaky pastry filled with raisins and custard Chaussons aux pommes: French apple turnovers Pâte à choux: a light, buttery puff pastry dough Éclair: oblong desserts made of choux pastry filled with cream and topped with icing (often chocolate) Tarte au citron: lemon tart Macaron: a meringue-based confectionary sandwich filled with various flavored ganache, creams, or jams Croquembouche: a cone-shaped tower of confection created out of caramel-dipped, cream-filled pastry puffs and swathed in spun sugar threads, often served at French weddings or on special occasions Saint-Honoré: a dessert named for the patron saint of bakers and pastry chefs Pâte feuilletée: a light, flaky puff pastry Vanilla crème pâtissière: vanilla pastry cream Hazelnut crème chiboust: a pastry cream lightened with Italian meringue Paris-brest: a wheel-shaped dessert made of pâte à choux and filled with praline cream. Created in 1910 by chef Louis Durand to commemorate the Paris-Brest, a bicycle race.”

FrenchPastriesDessertsConfectionsGlossary
Book:Make It Sweet
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“No, this is what I'll remember for the rest of my life. The first sight of Delilah's breasts. I've dreamed about them for far too long. My first wet dreams were about them, how they might look, feel, taste. I knew nothing. She is full and ripe, the skin paler here, delicately capped with dusky-honey tips. It gets me so hot I'm shaking. My hand cups their soft, plump weight, and she shivers too. I want to say something like "Finally" or "What took us so long?" but all that comes out is the most important thing. "You're beautiful." Her lids flutter, her breath hitching when I rub the tips of my thumbs over her silky nipples. Those sweet buds tighten, and it's all I can do not to swoop down and suck them hard. As it is, I tweak them, and she keens. The sound goes straight to my dick. "Get in my bed, Delilah. And get comfortable, because you aren't leaving it anytime soon.”

BreastsForeplayBoobsPillow TalkHot Sex SceneTits
Book:Dear Enemy
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“God, she was gorgeous. Pure and cleanly beautiful. From the rounded crests of her cheeks to the delicate sweep of her jaw, she had the kind of face sculptors memorialized in marble and the rest of us gazed upon for centuries to come. Of course she was beautiful. She was an actress. Meant to be idolized on the screen. Emma Maron, a.k.a Princess Anya, future queen and conqueror on Dark Castle. The guys and I used to watch the show while traveling between games. Anya was a favorite. Particularly since... I'd seen her breasts. It hit me like a puck to the helmet, and my ears began to ring. I'd seen those perfect creamy handfuls with sweet pink tips that pointed upward, defying gravity and begging to be sucked. I had watched her on hands on knees, perky tits bouncing as Arasmus slammed into her from behind. I actually blushed. Me. The guy who'd had dozens of women throw themselves at him every night since high school. I'd had sex so many times and in so many ways it had become a blur. Nothing shamed me or made me uncomfortable. Yet I started to get hot under the collar, my cheeks burning. After nearly a year of being disinterested in all things sexual, my dick decided to make its presence known and start rising. Now, of all times. Now, when I was stuck in a damn truck less than three feet from a woman, I finally got a hard-on. Lovely. I felt like a damn lecher. "At least it's a beautiful drive," she said, breaking through heated thoughts of creamy breasts with cotton candy nipples.”

Sexual AttractionBeautiful WomanAroused
Book:Make It Sweet
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“With the oysters, I'm at the shore, swimming in the heat of the day. She serves us baby cream biscuits and smoked peach butter that taste exactly like those we'd eat around her mother's table during a Sunday dinner, only better, tweaked in a way that makes me want to taste it again and again. Buttermilk panna cotta with spot prawns and spring vegetables pulls me right into lazy picnics in Delilah's backyard, when we'd gorge on plump peas, sweet tomatoes, crisp cucumbers. The tender shrimp and tart buttermilk--- all of this is our childhood on a plate. I never wanted to look too closely at that time, but it's slapping me tight in the face. Oddly, it doesn't hurt. Not this version. It feels fragile and rare, like I should be protecting it, like I should be proud of where we come from and who we are. And then the menu changes on me. The servers bring out what Delilah says is butter-poached cod with potato galette and shellfish emulsion dotted with petals of mango and peach. It is the clean taste of the sea; it is buttery velvet along my tongue, bright bursts of juicy fruit. Underneath it all is a crisp, airy version of what is essentially a gourmet tater tot. The taste is erotic. Heat and lust wash over me in a wave that has my balls clenching and my cock stiffening. I can't figure out why. Then it hits me like a kick to the chest. This dish is us. Frantic kissing on the beach, eating juicy mangos at the market, peaches and tater tots. She's created us. A compilation of all she holds dear.”

StorytellingChildhood MemoriesFood LoveAphrodisiacSouthern FoodCompilationsTater Tots
Book:Dear Enemy
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“You should listen to your assistant. She clearly understands about fattening foods." Her tone is not kind. And I'm done being polite. Or quiet. I turn to North, who is sprawled back in his chair, blue eyes alight with undisguised anticipation. An ally I desperately need. "Tell me something..." "Anything, babe." I kind of love him just then. Because I know, I know, he's calling me babe to irritate Macon. It's in his eyes and the way his mouth twists to hold back laughter. "Do agents in this town take Cliché Bitch 101 classes around here?" A muscle in his lower jaw twitches while Karen huffs out a sound of annoyance. "Pretty sure they offer a special discount at UCLA." We both grin. "All right," Macon cuts in. "That's enough." I shoot him a look. Tell that to Ms. Sunset Boulevard. And he returns one of his own. Behave. Make. Me. His answering grin is crafty. "Later." "Later for what?" Karen demands in a snit. "To perform my other services." I dab the corner of my mouth. Because fuck her. Macon chokes on a sip of his water. North, however, just laughs, a big booming sound. "I like her," he says to a glowering Macon.”

Verbal SaltBitchySex JokeKarenFat Shaming
Book:Dear Enemy
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“Damn that man. Damn his six-foot-two canvas of tightly packed muscle and unfairly gorgeous obsidian eyes. Damn him for not staying in the mold of ex-enemy and current employer but insisting on blurring the lines and upending my nicely ordered world. God, I nearly moaned when he wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, revealing the hard slab of his lower abs. Lord, but he's beautiful, nicely defined but big and strong. A fighter's body. My mouth went dry at the sight of the V and those glorious abs, swooping down and disappearing behind the low line of his sweats.”

Enemies To Lovers RomanceMasculine BeautyShirtless
Book:Dear Enemy
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“Slowly, his hands coasted down to my hips, tracing my panties before he tugged them down. He looked up at me, even as his hand eased between my thighs. Ice-green eyes burned bright. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you." The calloused tips of his fingers slid along my swollen, slick sex. "Now that I have you, I don't know where to start." My lids fluttered, hands clutching at his shoulders as he rubbed back and forth. "Right there works for me." His smile was sin and promise. "You like that, honey?" "Yes." He toyed with the entrance to my sex, pausing there to push just enough for me to feel it, to want it. "How about here?" "There is..." My breath caught. He pushed in, long strong fingers filling me. "Is what?" he murmured darkly, those talented fingers slowly fucking me, as though he had all the time in the world. The blunt end of his thumb found my puffy clit and circled it. I whimpered again, falling against him, my arms wrapping around his neck. "So fucking good." He made a noise, possessive and greedy, his mouth finding my nipple, his long fingers pushing up into me. "God, you're perfect. So perfect for me." The slight curl of his fingers hit a spot, and that was it. I came in waves, shaking with it, heat swamping me. His eyes held mine as he coaxed me along, drawing my pleasure out. With a groan that sounded almost pained, Lucian slid to the floor, his wide shoulders edging between my legs. He palmed my thighs in his big hands to hold me steady. And then, with an impatient grunt, he leaned in and kissed my throbbing clit. Kissed it like he kissed my mouth, greedy and deep, licking and sucking, nibbling with firm lips. I cried out again, my knees so weak he had to hold me up. He ate me like a dessert, lapping at my slit before thrusting his tongue inside me. I couldn't take it. It was too much. I came again, writhing against his mouth. "That's it," he said between frantic kisses. "That's it, Em. Work that sweet pussy on my mouth." Oh, hell. I crumpled, dislodging myself before falling onto his lap. I cupped the thick column of his nape and kissed him, drawing in his breath as he groaned and devoured me.”

Hot SexCunnilingusPillow TalkHeavy Petting
Book:Make It Sweet
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“Lucian's thick, long finger slid into me, and I groaned----a pained sound. "That's it," he rasped, fingering me with agonizingly slow pushes. "Fuck, that's it." I gasped, my head light, my thighs clamping around his hand, as though I could hold in the sensation. "Spread your legs a little wider, honey. Let me in. Good girl." He cupped my neck with his free hand, his forehead pressed to mine. "One day soon, I'm going to work myself into this tight sweet honey box, fuck you for hours." My thighs trembled, heat swimming me as my lower belly clenched. "Lucian." I wiggled my hips. He added another finger, fucking them up into me at an angle that had me keening in pleasure. "Right here, Em. Right here is where I'm aching to be." I wanted him there so badly. My body moved with him, rocking against his hand. "Right here is where I'll worship." He kissed me gently, a simple meeting of mouths, as his thumb snaked out and found my clit. He pressed down, rougher now that I was worked up and at the edge. Just how I liked. White-hot head sparked and lit, and I came in a rushing wave that had me straining against him. "Say my name." He rubbed my slippery sex, fingers deep inside me. "Lucian." I sobbed. "Lucian." His grip on my nape was warm, reassuring as he kissed me. "That's my girl," he said as I came down from my high, my body trembling. "My girl." My focus came back as he slipped free from my panties. He lifted his hand to his mouth and, holding my eyes with his crystalline-green eyes, sucked his wet fingers clean. A wicked smile curved his lush mouth as his voice rolled over me like warm honey. "Delicious.”

Pillow TalkSexual PleasureHeavy Petting
Book:Make It Sweet
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“With a noise of want, he cups my breast, then leans over it. His mouth is hot and wet, and I groan, arching into him as he sucks my nipple in deep. He releases me with a long satisfied lick and then does it all over again. "Macon..." It's a plea. For more, for it everywhere. He seems to know this because he looks up at me from beneath the fan of his lashes as his wicked tongue flicks over my other nipple. "It's my turn to play." Play he does, suckling my nipples until they're swollen and stiff and gleaming, then rubbing the flat of his fingers over the sensitive tips--- a slow, heavy circle. The action is so lewd, so basely sexual, that I writhe and moan against him, my leg hooking over his trim hips in an attempt to bring him over me. But he resists, his focus all on me. He makes his way over my body, learning every curve and hollow--- gentle little kisses of shuddering pleasure, slow wet kisses of greed. When he gets to the rise of my hip bone, he pauses. His big hands settle over my thighs, gripping them lightly. His gaze, dark and hot, meets mine. "Spread these thighs, Tot, and show me what I've been dreaming about for far too long." Slowly, I open to him. I feel the exposure in the soft stretch of my inner thigh muscles, the cool rush of air against my wet sex. My breasts jiggle with every shuddering breath I take. Macon's attention is rapt. He licks his lower lip, and I clench deep within me. With a groan, he lowers his head and kisses my pussy like a man deprived of air. Pleasure jolts through me, hot and sharp. I writhe against that slowly questing mouth of his. He fucking feasts, and I can't help but put my hand on the back of his head to hold him there, urging him to take more. God, the feel of his tongue sliding and searching; my clit becomes so swollen and sensitive I'm half trying to get away. But he won't let me. The sight of his broad shoulders between my legs, the fan of his lashes shadowing an expression of sheer greed, has me teetering on an orgasm. He stops to place a soft, firm kiss right on my clit like it's something he has to do, this bit of utter affection at the height of his lust, and I fall. Arching against the bed, I come and come. Macon kisses me again, his hand soothing my quivering belly in gentle circles, then rises to hover over me. "Of all the flavors you've given me," he says roughly. "That was my favorite." God. I lick my dry lips, my breath catching. "You can have a taste anytime you like.”

Hot SexCunnilingusPillow Talk
Book:Dear Enemy
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“Stop giving me those sexy eyes." "Sexy eyes?" He chokes on an incredulous laugh. "You're looking at me like you... you..." His eyes gleam with wicked intent. "Want to stick my head between your things and slowly lick you until we both come?" A strangled sound leaves me as a pulse of pure lust hits my sex. I want to touch myself, press against that ache to relieve it. "Macon..." "Because that's what I'm thinking half of the time," he goes on levelly. "When I'm not thinking about kissing your soft mouth or easing up your top to finally-- fucking finally-- see those gorgeous tits." "Macon!" "Delilah," he shoots back with cheek. God, I want him to do all those things and more. I want to strip him down, lick his warm skin. Lick him up like ice cream melting off a spoon. Why did I say anything about going slow?”

Enemies To Lovers RomanceSexy TalkPillow Talk
Book:Dear Enemy
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“The sound of my heels clicking against the floorboards bolsters my spirits. Grandma Belle used to say that a woman wearing her best red heels and favorite red lipstick can accomplish anything. There is some truth to her words. When Grandma Belle donned her red pumps and a glossy coat of Dior Rouge, she fairly glowed with an inner confidence that reduced men to obedient puppies. While I do not possess the classic beauty of Grandma Belle, nor do I think Macon Saint will ever act anything close to an obedient puppy, I do admit to feeling a bit more powerful in my red suede Jimmy Choos and Ruby Woo lipstick.”

High HeelsRed LipstickGirl BossRed ShoesConfidence Boost
Book:Dear Enemy
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“I've been in a lot of fights. On the ice. And once off it. But all of them were against guys who could hold their own. This scar"----he pointed to a faint line under his left brow----"was from a left hook I didn't see coming. I returned the favor and broke the guy's nose. I'm telling you this because I won't lie and say I'm a stranger to violence." He didn't blink, didn't hesitate to meet my eyes. "But you? You could slap me, punch me, kick me in the nuts, call me names, disparage Mamie, whom I love more than anyone on Earth, and I still wouldn't ever raise a hand to you. Because I don't hit women or anyone weaker than me. Ever." He stopped there, his concerned gaze darting over my face. "I apologize that my behavior made you feel unsafe. It wasn't my intention. If you believe anything about me, believe I will always be the guy who stands with you, never against you.”

ProtectiveTrue ManNever Hurt A Woman
Book:Make It Sweet
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“Lucian groaned, the sound almost animal. I arched my back in response, pulled by his need, my bared breast coming closer to the wall of his chest. I wanted to feel his skin on mine. But he didn't move. He gripped the edge tighter, his body working with heaving pants. "Fuck," he whispered. His pale gaze flicked to mine, a furrow knitting between his brows. "I want a taste. Please. God. Please, Em." That he was undone nearly had me sliding under the water. But the need in his eyes made me whimper. Lids heavy with desire, I nodded, and he swallowed hard, his expression becoming fierce. "Just a taste," he said, as if to hold himself to that. I whimpered, and his hot gaze snared with mine. Something passed over his expression----determination, reassurance, I couldn't tell; lust and need had scattered all rational thought. "Just a taste," he said again. "Take it," I whimpered, barely able to form the words. Lucian let out a breath, his mouth moving closer. "Fuck. Em... lift that sweetness up for me." My breath left in a swoosh, everything squeezing with a lovely tightness. With a shaking hand, I cupped my breast and lifted it out of the water. Offering myself to him. On a groan, he ducked his head. The hot, wet flat of his tongue dragged over my cold flesh. I let out a cry, a bolt of pleasure punching to my core. He made a sound of pure hunger, his lips gently kissing the tip before he sucked it deep...”

Sexual DesireForeplayNipple
Book:Make It Sweet
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