I was beginning to understand that once Lachlan decided something was his responsibility, the cost to himself stopped being part of the equation. Pain, danger, inconvenience—it didn’t seem to matter. He would do what he said he would do and deal with the consequences afterward.

“No one owns you. But anyone who comes for you answers to me.”

“That sounds a little like ownership.”

“You can walk away from me once you’re safe. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t think I mind being yours in that way.”

I was a man, and she felt like every bad decision I’d ever enjoyed making.

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

Those crystal-blue eyes of hers…they cut through all the bullshit and pierced my soul. I was forever lost to her. That twenty percent angel, eighty percent devil mix made me want to dive headfirst into whatever underworld she’d take me.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

I didn’t know what was going on between us, but one thing was clear: this woman was unlike anyone I’d ever met, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run from her iciness or straight into her fire.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

“Am I joining The Syndicate?”

“No.” His answer came with quiet amusement. “You’re doing something considerably more dangerous.”

“Oh?”

“Loving one of its men.”

She was so touch-deprived it bordered on cruelty, and I planned to make up for every stolen moment—to hold her, to care for her, until every fiber of her body and every corner of her soul recognized she was loved by me.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

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 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