Scandal with a Prince by Nicole Burnham
4 years ago
"I have the most profane desire to be in bed with you for...oh, weeks, at least...committing every mortal sin known to man. I'd like to do more than sketch you naked. I want to draw directly on you with feather and ink...flowers around your breasts, trails of stars down your thighs." He let his warm lips brush the edge of her ear. "I want to map your body, chart the north, south, east, and west of you."
"You were courted by a boy, who had to do as he was told." His hot breath feathered against her lips as he whispered, "You should try it with a man, who needs no one's permission."
He murmured her name, tenderly taking her face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice low and fervent. “I love you with everything I am, everything I’ve been, and everything I hope to be.”
“I love you with my past, and I love you for my future.” He bent forward and kissed her, once, softly, on the lips. “I love you for the children we’ll have and for the years we’ll have together. I love you for every one of my smiles, and even more, for every one of your smiles.”
"I love you, he thought, looking at Win. I love every part of you, every thought and word...the entire complex, fascinating bundle of all the things you are. I want you with ten different kinds of need at once. I love all the seasons of you, the way you are now, the thought of how much more beautiful you'll be in the decades to come. I love you for being the answer to every question my heart could ask."(pg.252)
She was running late as usual. In fourty-five minutes she had managed to take a shower, slap on some makeup, make four lunches and feed three groggy kids a semblance of something called breakfast. As she walked by the closed door she flung it open and cried “It’s eight o’çlock, would you get dressed! Wash your face! You’re fourteen, why do I have to do this every morning?”
Why did she have to do this every morning? Where the hell was he? Where else? Still in the shower. Same routine every day. Did she actually believe it would ever change? Every morning he spent half an hour in their ensuite bathroom, languishing in the steam while she managed to pull everyone and everything into some sense of order and routine.
She could still hear the sound of the water as she entered with the sole purpose of giving him a piece of her mind. As she strode in she took a quick glimpse at the mirror to ensure she looked presentable for another day at work. She gave a short sigh as she tried to flatten some of those unruly dark curls. No use. It would only get worse as the day wore on and the humidity increased.
She turned and opened the shower stall, fully prepared to launch into him about needing some help in the mornings. “You’ve been in here for half an hour, do you think you have any skin left?” He opened his eyes and replied, “I’m done. I’m coming out.” Her eyes caught the sinew of his broad shoulders as the water cascaded over him. His muscular arms bulged at the biceps, naturally exuding a brawny strength that enraptured her. She could see the definite lines of his pecs as they flexed with his every movement. She loved this part of his body. She instinctively wanted to reach out and flick the nipples that had puckered in the shower. Her mind instantly jumped to the night before when he had held her so tight against that very same chest, nuzzling her neck with his lips. She started to feel that familiar ache within her. As she raised her eyes to his again, he tilted his head in an open invitation, a playful grin on his face. She quickly stammered “I have to get to work. Remember the kids have soccer tonight!” As she rushed out of the bathroom, she noted the flush to her cheeks in her reflection in the mirror. How did he do that? He managed to elude her lecture once again. Damn that man!
"Davina". He was there, above her, his breath hot against her mouth. She opened her eyes to him, ashamed of her tears, and then astounded to see them in his eyes as well. "I love ye, lass, " he whispered deeply, running his fingers over her cheek. "Ye will always be first and foremost to me."(pg.219)
"Make love to me," she whispered.
"Love. Dear God. Yes, he wanted to make love to her, to love her, to give her some of the physical pleasure he knew this act could bring and in doing so find for himself that deeper something he suddenly had cause to believe existed.
"You have the most beautiful hands," she said. "I want to know what artistry they might work on my flesh."
His clasp on her chin became a caress. "You don't want this. It isn't going to lead to some blessed union, Favor," he rasped out. "I have nothing. Nothing at all to offer you."
"You have your name," she suggested in a whisper as fearful as it was hesitant. "Dammit, don't you think I want to feel you under me, around me?" he ground out. "I want to drink your cries, I want to make you scream with pleasure. I want to take you. Now. Here...." (from page 285)