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You are going to love me until I die. I’m going to make you love me even if it hurts, and when it hurts, I’m going to make it better, Brooke.

Katy Evans

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Katy Evans
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: March 3
Author
Writer
Hurts
Hurt
Dies
Better
Even
Going
Make
Love
Brooke

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His eyes glow in the shadows as he slides the soft liquid semen dripping down my thigh in a path leading back into my swollen entry, as if he doesn't want to come out of my body. Sticky? he asks in a gruff murmur, bending his head and licking my shoulder as he pushes his semen back inside with one finger.
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I love the way you work out,” I whisper. “I love the way you work me.
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I’ve never seen a man go after a woman like that. Holy sh*t, it’s like porn with the romance.
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Why won't you take me, Remington? He groans and pulls me closer. Because I want you too much.
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Larger than life itself, and I can’t even believe this striking creature was once a little bit mine.
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I used to dream of medals and championships, but now I dream solely of a blue-eyed fighter who one day changed my life, when he put his lips on mine. . .
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Brooke Dumas. I'm Remington.
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At least if I keep my love a secret, he and I can still have this wonderful, odd, exciting relationship where I love him in silence and pretend he's loving me in silence too.
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He's complicated and complex, a labyrinth I want to lose myself in. He's my fighter, and I really want to fight to be with him.
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I'm addicted to you. You're my crack, and you also happen to be the only dealer.
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Remy you're my king. I hug him hard. There's no chess game for me without you.
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I can see he thinks he's the ultimate creation, and he seems to believe every woman here is his Eve, created from his ribcage for him to enjoy. I'm both aroused and infuriated, and this is the most confusing feeling I've ever felt in my life.
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You can't, Brooke, you can't leave. You're mine
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Have you ever been anyone's? No. And you? I've never wanted to. Neither have I. Until I saw this lovely girl in Seattle, with big gold eyes, and pink, full lips... and I wondered if she could understand me.
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What if someone comes? I half-heartedly protest. No one's coming here but you.
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God, I want to die in you.
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It feels like he's marking me. Like he's preparing me for something monumental. That could both change and ruin my life.
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From a man who fights like crazy, arouses me like no other, is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. From the man who plays me sexy music, gives me his t-shirt to sleep in, protects me as fiercely as a lion, and yet won't take me when I'm naked and trembling in his arms.
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Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the f*ck out of me. You won't sleep anywhere but with me tonight.
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We won't be having an affair. I stare dumbly, certain I just heard an organ in my body crack in my chest. His hands clamp around me, and he crushes me to his body as he slides his nose along the shell of my ear. When I take you, you'll be mine, he says, a soft promise in my ear.
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