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All right. Shimmering droplets on her eyelashes, stars caught in transition. But will you replace it with something for me? Anything. His body was hers. Brushing her fingers over his lips, she said, You gave me an eagle. I want to give you one, too. A tender kiss pressed to the scar. I want us to fly together.

Nalini Singh

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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Gave
Tender
Droplets
Something
Stars
Scar
Shimmering
Give
Transition
Eyelashes
Together
Kiss
Brushing
Anything
Kissing
Eagle
Lips
Pressed
Body
Fingers
Eagles
Right
Caught
Replace
Giving

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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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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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To fight is to face death once more, perhaps the total annihilation of their kind. But to run... is that not also a kind of annihilation?
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He leaned a fraction closer. “My lovers have always been warrior women. Strength intrigues me.” She refused to let him play with her like this, even if her body disagreed. Vehemently. “Do knives intrigue you, too? Because touch me and I will cut you up. I don’t care if you throw me off the nearest balcony.
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Oh my God! I'm crushing an angel. Let me up!
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I’ve had reports of this one being in the city, but no close-up pictures till now. He’s some kind of pretty. I could just take a bite out of that firm—
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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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The fear is like metal on my tongue—I’ve known him but a fragment of time, and yet I’m certain if I accept his suit, it will destroy a part of me when he leaves.” Keir reached forward to tuck her hair behind her ear. “We’re all a little broken.” Quiet. Potent. “No one goes through life with a whole heart.
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When was the last time you lost an argument? He pretended to think about it. Then, leaning down, he whispered in her ear, A few hours ago when you refused to stop the car and crawl into the backseat with me.
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Jesus H. Christ. I have new respect for the female of the species suddenly.
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