Noelle was an open book—most of the time. She didn’t bother hiding who she was, and I respected that. But the topic of her parents? That was a door she kept bolted shut. It stirred up an instinct I didn’t usually have for strangers—to defend her from whatever hurt lay behind that door. It wasn’t the same as looking out for my brother and sisters, or even the guys in my unit. This was different. More visceral. I wanted to shield her from whatever caused her pain and make it right.

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

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

And so I waited in silence for him to make the next move. It was a calculated risk, placing my trust in him, but after everything we’d shared today, this was just another step along the path we were now on together. And as uncomfortable as it was to let go, to relinquish control, something deep inside told me it was worth it to see where this journey with Mr. Captain might ultimately lead.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

The thought of being the one to unravel her, to guide her to unexplored heights of pleasure, sent a thrill of anticipation through me. This was more than mere attraction; it was a challenge, a puzzle begging to be solved.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

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

I stayed silent, watching her breath. I wanted to freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever. No woman had ever affected me this deeply. Maybe it was her innocence—the fact that she was a blank slate due to her amnesia, free to write her story anew without the weight of past memories. God, how I longed to help her fill those empty spaces.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

I couldn’t begin to fathom why I’d agreed—no, chosen—to participate in this sexual experiment. Curiosity had gotten the better of me. It wasn’t that I regretted what we’d done—he’d given me the best orgasms I’d ever had—it was that being with him was unthinkable, taboo even. Why had I allowed a man who was essentially my boss, sixteen years my senior, do the things he’d done? I had no answers.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

“Samantha, you’re okay. I promise. The orgasmic cocktail of oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin is just messing with your emotions.” He kissed my shoulder. With a soft chuckle, and added, “I knew you just needed the right man to please you. God, you’re so fucking amazing.”

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

I shut my eyes, my mind drifting again to my Russian stalker.

The one whose voice played over and over again in my thoughts…my dreams. I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands. His mouth. His angst. The way he’d kissed me, like he hated himself for wanting me.

I couldn’t understand why he kept showing up out of nowhere.

But right now, I wanted that version of him—the one who’d chased me through that building not to hurt me but to get to me first, like he knew monsters lurked in the shadows.

Maybe I didn’t deserve to be saved. I’d been too impulsive. Too trusting.

But God help me—I wanted him to come.

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

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