There’s dirty talk, and then there’s Prince Orlando’s dirty talk, and I don’t think you can even compare the two.
Every cell in my body is begging for her, wanting to know what it’s like to have her heart. I want her heart, to possess it, to protect it and never let it go.
And more than that, I relate. I know. I know what it’s like to search for something, not knowing what it is, feeling restless and unrooted and wondering if you’ll ever find your place in the world.
And now that I’ve had you,” he says softly, his fingertip wiping away a tear that I didn’t know had escaped, “I want nothing else.
We both have roles to play, roles that were handed to us. But they don’t have to define us. And they don’t have to contain us.
I wanted him, I wanted his thoughts and his fears and his feelings but I didn’t want to give away a single ounce of myself.
I didn’t just want Lachlan’s muscles, his lips, his endless skills beneath the sheets. I wanted him, every part of him. The dark bits that were hidden away and only hinted at by tattoos. I desired all of him, like a dying man desires one more breath.
But this is for the best. I can see that. We were never meant to be. You were never as strong as I thought you were. Such a shame though. You had such dirty wings. Such promise. Power makes the world go around, angel. It keeps you alive when you should be dead. Don’t you want that immortality? Or are you so happy with a boring, ordinary life? With a boring, ordinary man?
You’re mine now. Every single inch of you is mine. That just sealed it. There is no escaping this.
She’s the sunrise, the moonrise, all four points of my compass.
My past has such a hold on me, like I’m stopped at a red light that never changes, waiting for that green light that never comes.
Sometimes hope is like wearing someone else’s coat. You know it can shield and protect you, just as it did them, but it still doesn’t feel right. You’re just not used to it.
What are you smiling at?” she smirks from under me. “You,” I tell her, refusing to wipe the grin from my face. “The answer will always be you.
There’s no use dwelling on the things you could have changed. Believe me. Too much reflection on all the could-haves and should-haves will only hold you in your past.
Poor Twatwaffle. Thank God all good llamas go to heaven.
It was messy. It was imperfect. Raw and real. And it was the way it worked for us. It was how we found each other. Then lost each other. Then found each other again.
You can’t be happy if you’re hangry all the time.
In another world, a merciful world, it wouldn’t be the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. All these nights would stretch on and on and on, and she would fall asleep in my arms with all my darkness and all my demons and all my ugliness stored safely in her heart.
This isn’t over between us. It’s just beginning. I’ve had a taste of you. I’m not going to want anything else.
Gingersnap,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine. “I’ll go wherever you go. All I know is that I’m going to be with you. I told you that. One sunrise at a time, with me by your side.