She bit her bottom lip. Nervous tic or calculated move, I couldn’t tell, but it drew my eyes down to that goddamn mouth of hers. Soft. Full. Screaming to be ruined.

“You’re full of yourself,” she snapped, clearly catching my stare. “But let me guess. You think girls like me should be seen and not heard, right?”

“No,” I said coolly. “I think girls like you should be f***ed face down until that pretty mouth learns when to stay busy and when to stay silent—until obedience stops being a choice.”

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

I nodded, trying to pull myself together. Embarrassment washed over me as I realized how exposed I was, both physically and emotionally. Quickly, I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “I’m fine. God, I’m just being stupid. It’s nothing. I’m just tired and—”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, taking my face in both hands. “Don’t say you’re being stupid.”

I froze.

“What you’re experiencing is how sexual pleasure should always make you feel. Giving a man that special piece of yourself is the best gift he could ever receive. You deserve to be adored and pleasured in every way, to be praised and feel loved. Your body is your temple, and any man should be lucky enough to worship before it.”

My heart cracked wide open.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

In that split second when I locked eyes with this devastatingly lethal masterpiece of untamed beauty—mine searching to understand, hers hardened in resolve—I knew one thing with absolute clarity: she wasn’t the kind of woman a man walked away from unscathed. She fought like a demon, looked like a damn dream, and if I had any sense, I’d focus on survival instead of how much I wanted to pin her down for entirely different reasons. Whether I made it out of this fight or not, I was already a goner. She wasn’t just dangerous—she was the kind of trouble men lost themselves in.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

She was perfect. Beautiful and defiant, soft in all the right places, and strong in ways that sent my imagination spiraling. I loved the way her voice had cracked when she’d told me to let her go…and then moaned when I didn’t.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

I had never been with a man who reached for me simply because he wanted to. Not out of dominance, not to stake a claim, not as a prelude to sex. Just a touch, a connection, as natural as breathing.

Butterflies—actual butterflies—fluttered in my stomach, something light and unfamiliar stirring in my chest.

I’d always thought that was just some romantic notion, a dreamy fantasy only found in books.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

Just as he’d predicted, my body felt ruined for future men, spoiled by the touch of the sexy doctor.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

“Hey, Mr. Captain!” she puffed, weaving through the crowd. “You training for the Reindeer Games or something? Some of us have short legs, you know! Or do you just like dashing through the airport like you’re a one-horse open sleigh?”

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

Tonight I wanted to be wrecked, to be so consumed by someone that I couldn’t remember my name, much less all the screwed-up things life had thrown at me. Kol was the kind of man who could do that; I could tell just by the way he moved. I wanted him to worship every inch of me, to let him light up every one of my nerves like a Christmas tree.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

She can hiss and spit all she wants, but I’m taking possession of her future one way or another. Feral just means special handling.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

“I love you, my little bird. With everything in me. I love every part of you—your red hair, your sharp tongue, the strength you hide behind that fire. There will never be another woman for me. I’ll die with your name on my lips.”

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy