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New Adult Quotes

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New Adult Quotes

“Leave now!” I commanded, my voice laced with anger. He stood slowly and approached me again, invading my space. “Careful now, dummy. Next time, you might find yourself begging me to stay,” he whispered, leaning in close to my right ear. I could hear a heartbeat—was it his or mine?”

“Laurie Siler. The singer. The Rockstar. He looked older than his 21 years. I’d always thought he was good looking, in music videos and interviews. But he was so much more beautiful in person. He had a strong jaw beneath a wide mouth, kind green eyes, floppy brown hair, slicked back but still brushing his shoulders. He wore a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans over tan Chelsea boots. I looked back to his eyes and they were staring straight at me. I was struck. Breathless. He smirked. The cocky sonofabitch.”

“Une seule chose me paraît intelligente à ce moment-là. Je me glisse sous le lit et j’attends, le cœur battant. Je me retiens de lâcher un juron lorsque la porte s’ouvre. Je ne distingue que des baskets et le bas d’un jogging, mais il s’agit sûrement de Jason, ça ne peut être que lui. Je me mords la lèvre inférieure, en essayant de m’empêcher de trembler. Je blêmis lorsque son tee-shirt tombe au sol. Il retire ses chaussures, ses chaussettes, et son pantalon suit le même chemin. Oh, bon sang… Je plaque une main sur ma bouche pour éviter de faire trop de bruit en respirant. Il suffirait qu’il déploie son pouvoir pour réaliser qu’il y a quelqu’un d’autre dans sa chambre. Je l’entends s’affaler sur son lit et je tressaille. J’ai une vue sur ses chevilles et ses mollets. Il ne va quand même pas rester, si ? Pourquoi il bouge pas, là… Le soulagement m’envahit quand il se relève. Mes joues deviennent rouges et une bouffée de chaleur me prend d’assaut lorsqu’il retire son caleçon. Mon corps se met à picoter sous l’angoisse d’être découverte. Calme-toi, calme-toi, m’ordonné-je.”

“I moaned then, tilting my head back to give him better access. His hands clamped on my waist, then moved—one going to cup my rear, the other sliding between us. This—this moment, when it was him and me and nothing between our bodies … His tongue scraped the roof of my mouth as he dragged a finger down the center of me, and I gasped, my back arching. “Feyre,” he said against my lips, my name like a prayer more devout than any Ianthe had offered up to the Cauldron on that dark solstice morning. His tongue swept my mouth again, in time to the finger that he slipped inside of me. My hips undulated, demanding more, craving the fullness of him, and his growl reverberated in my chest as he added another finger. I moved on him. Lightning lashed through my veins, and my focus narrowed to his fingers, his mouth, his body on mine. His palm pushed against the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs, and I groaned his name as I shattered”

“Rhys shuddered, and I watched his cock twitch. “Play later,” he ground out. Indeed. His mouth found mine, the kiss open and deep, a clash of tongues and teeth. He lay me down on the pillows, and I locked my legs around his back, careful of the wings. Though I stopped caring as he nudged at my entrance. And paused. “Play later,” I snarled into his mouth. Rhys laughed and slid in. And in. And in.”

“One second, he was in my mouth, my tongue flicking over the broad head of him; the next, his hands were on my waist and I flipped onto my front. He nudged my legs apart with his knees, spreading me as he gripped my hips, tugging them up, up before he sheathed himself deep in me with a single stroke. I moaned into the pillow at every glorious inch of him, rising onto my forearms as my fingers grappled into the sheets.”

“... so I leaned down and put my mouth on him. He jerked at the contact with a barked, “Shit,” and I laughed around him, even as I took him deeper into my mouth. His hands were now fisted in the sheets, white-knuckled as I slid my tongue over him, grazing slightly with my teeth. His groan was fire to my blood.”

“Sein Gesicht war so perfekt, so rein und makellos, als wäre es gemalt, erschaffen von einem begnadeten Künstler, der nie an etwas anderes gedacht hatte als an ihn. Ich betrachtete seine Lippen und zeichnete sie in Gedanken nach. Sie waren geschwungen wie die Kurven eines Herzens, wild und natürlich, so wenig künstlich wie die brechenden Wellen auf seiner Haut oder mein Lächeln auf seinem Herzen.”