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Mercy laughed. “You have to excuse them—boys suffer from an incurable disability.” “What?” “Testosterone.

Nalini Singh

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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Mercy
Boys
Suffering
Incurable
Testosterone
Disability
Laughed
Suffer
Excuse

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She stepped out of reach. “Go put on a shirt and get your mind out of bed.” “Impossible with you around.” “Pretend I’m holding a rifle. In fact, pretend I have you in the crosshairs.” Janvier sighed, rubbing at a jaw shadowed by morning stubble. “I love it when you talk dirty.
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Can I bite you here, too?
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When you want something so bad it hurts,” he said quietly, “and you bury it, bury it so deep that you convince yourself it no longer matters . . . and someone tells you you can have it, it's terrifying. What if you take the chance and you're wrong? What if you let yourself feel the loss and it's this huge pain and you can't put it back in the box?
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Your name is written on my heart, Lily
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Dmitri clearly gives good . . . blood.
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I will love you until the day they put me in the earth.
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I could kiss you forever, she murmured against his lips, sucking at the lower one, playing with the upper, his body weight a luscious pressure. I love feeling you against me. You say such things, Elena. You will make me your slave.
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You, she managed to say hoarsely, are a very bad kitty cat.
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Raphael's pleasure, his kiss, sent her over a second time....and it wasn't until they both stirred again that Raphael reached down and undid the strap of her knife sheath, putting it and the knife on the bedside table. Beautiful as this sheath is, he said, touching the leather, I much prefer the one which holds my blade.
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He couldn’t say the words, had spent too long in Silence, but he’d learned other ways to speak. Taking the paperweight she’d knocked off her desk out of his pocket, he put it in her hands. “It’s fixed. As long as you don’t mind more than a few scars.
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No,” he responded, reaching out to trace the shell of her ear. “They grew back even more beautiful. Blue edged with silver.” Elena laughed at the scowl in his voice.
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Stay with me. I’ll show you things that’ll make you laugh in delight, scream in passion, cry for the sheer joy of it.
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Under her palm, his heart beat strong and sure. It was such a human sound, so honest, so real.
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Take her to the kitchen,” came the order. “If she lies, throw her in the cauldron. “He was jesting about the cauldron, wasn’t he? You cannot have a cauldron big enough for a person?” Bard halted, sighed, looked at her with those wide, liquid eyes.“We,” he said, “have knives.
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Dropping her hand, she turned in his arms. Then, rising up on tiptoe, she cupped his face in her palms and drew him down. Her kiss was innocent, vulnerable, a caress so gentle that it made him her slave between one breath and the next.
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You're not a restful individual to be around Ashaya to Dorian
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... because he was going to marry her. “It is customary to ask,” she now said as she turned to watch him button up a black shirt over that chest she’d licked and sucked and kissed not long ago. “Why?” He shrugged. “I’m not giving you a choice.
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He understands evil better than any other person I’ve ever known. We disagree in how to eliminate it, but we do not disagree that it exists.
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Truth was a tool. It should never simply be said. No, it had to be bent, twisted, colored, until it became a weapon.
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For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He’d been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt.
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