My panties were still on but he didn’t let that stop him, nosing them out of the way and tonguing my sex, making low, growling noises in his throat like a big cat purring with pleasure while it devoured its prey.

Wars fought over a face like this,” he murmured like he was talking to himself, my heart stopped beating and his thumbs moved lightly across my cheeks. “A man would work himself into the ground for it, go down to his knees to beg to keep it, endure torture to protect it, take a bullet for it,” his eyes came to mine, “poison his brother to possess a face like this.

And I wake up happy, baby, because I possess beauty and I own that beauty in all the forms it can take and the least important of those are physical.

We were a galaxy exploding into a million pieces, creating a whole new world, as we crashed against each other on the soft surface of his mattress, a cloud in the darkness, our bodies finally falling together like rain.

Okay, first of all, I didn’t sleep with you to make amends. I slept with you because I wanted to.”He still didn’t say anything, and she pointed at him again. “And you know what? It was your own damn fault. It was those jeans you wear, and the tool belt. It was the size of your hammer!

Ben was in his truck, window down, idling at the curb, dark lenses hiding his eyes from her, looking effortlessly big and badass.The way she wished she felt.

She was a ray of sunshine, a warm summer rain, a bright fire on a cold winter’s day, and now she could be dead because she had tried to save the man she loved.

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky." Excerpt from Grace Willow's Last Minute Bride

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his kneesExcerpt from To Kiss a King by Grace WillowsComing this summer to Amazon Kindle and paperback.

I have a bad habit of wolfing down things that catch my eye.

In the end,” Callum said, his voice soft, gentle, “it all comes back to you. You protect them [your pack], you love them, you live for them, and someday, you die. That’s what it means, Bryn-girl, to be what we are [to be Alpha]. It’s lonely. It’s impossible. It’s all-consuming.” It is what it is.

Really, the definition of what makes us “human” confuses me. Showing “humanity” is like this synonym for “treating others kindly” or “like you want to be treated” or whatever, when that isn’t really human at all. Whoever came up with that definition is a real scammer, and a real genius. More than anything else, humans have been terrible to each other throughout history, and this is still the way it works today and will continue to work. It’s how we’re wired. I have “human understanding”; that’s it.

Rock stars have many of the same qualities as athletes—millions for doing what they love, fans, easy pussy, fame, status, the ability to do whatever they want when they want. While what they do is still cool, the main difference is that it’s less masculine. You connect with your fans in this intense, intimate, emotional way that is less about you and more about them, how you make them feel. When you’re an athlete, it’s all about you. They cheer you on. When you make music, you cheer them on, provide the soundtrack to their little lives, and all they do is cheer you back to say “Thanks.

His heart is the rhythm, mine is the echo.

The deer hovered by the trees beyond as the sounds of the ravening wolves came to them across the grass, their own senses almost frozen in impotent horror.

She made the beast rear its ugly head. Stirred fantasies in my mind I would have never otherwise entertained. Owning her wasn’t enough. Controlling her didn’t douse the inferno blazing inside me.

Have you seen what wolves do to their prey? But they do mate for life.

I could feel his whole body trying to claim me, want me, own me in lust, and it made me feel so valuable and wanted. As I was bent over the table, I felt like I was the world to him, and he could think of nothing else, could feel nothing else: he was consumed with my body, dedicated to exploring my female sexual power and energy, and his desperate hitting of me with the belt felt like he would rather die, than be without the chance to connect with me in sex.

The air felt thick with the feeling between us, like it was filling the room: a room full of our carnal heat, our hot desire for each other. Both my hands were clenched on the tablecloth, bunching it tightly, as he continued to swipe the belt against my quivering ass cheeks, and I could feel his tight fist yank repeatedly on my hair.

He lashed the belt against my ass again, and I was starting to feel like I was some supernatural being that was more than he was. He was just human, but I felt like something from heaven, an angel from the stars, that had come down to grace him with my presence. How beautiful lust is, when it makes you feel this way. Have you felt this yourself, do you know what I mean?

He pulled my head back further, and I could hear his ragged breathing as his mouth came close to my ear, sounding so desperate for me. God, I was turned on so much…

Miguel came to my restless mind, as he always did when I slept. Old memories never left me alone.

The only time you've been under me is when I've been inside of you and even then, you're never truly under me. I always remain under you.

Without her, I couldn't live.

Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all—the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn’t kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy.

The Child is the Alpha and the Omega of a parent’s happiness.

At the alpha level, your imagination acts powerfully on your subconsciousness mind and therefore your imaginings are powerfully effective in producing the desired result. It is believed that our subconscious mind represents nearly 90 percent of our mental capacity, which is why influencing your subconscious mind produces such powerful effects.

You may want the alpha, but the alpha has his pick.

Sometimes a woman has experienced too much life to have any blush left in her cheeks, but the man who puts it there is someone not easily forgotten.

Sweetheart, I have no intention of denying you a thing.

Trying to cool his jets, trying to let her stay in charge, he attempted to hold back, but she let out this breathy little whimper like he was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

Today alpha equals 1/137.0359 or so. Regardless, its value makes the periodic table possible. It allows atoms to exist and also allows them to react with sufficient vigor to form compounds, since electrons neither roam too freely from their nuclei nor cling too closely. This just-right balance has led many scientists to conclude that the universe couldn’t have hit upon its fine structure constant by accident.

Being a werewolf, an alpha more so, isn't about being aggressive over others but controlling yourself, the wolf's wild virus inside my DNA, and emotions that comes with the beast.

The tears were there, waiting to make their escape. But she wouldn’t let them. Not this time. She couldn’t. Because if there was one thing she had to do now, it was be strong and brave. She just had to be strong and brave for one week. That was no time at all. And when the week was over and Milo had found his true mate, she would disappear.

There was really way too much hotness going on back there.

Dastien ran his fingertips along my jawline "Je suis desole, mon amour.

I'd do anything for you, Tessa. I know you don't realize that now, but you will.

After a few seconds of scraping, I realize what he has isn’t a trail, it’s a whole forest! Ack! Weren’t all men supposed to shave their chest and stuff nowadays? Whatever happened to having fuzz-free Hollywood heroes as role models? At least my embarrassment is completely foregone by the irritation at his lack of upkeep. The only thing distracting me now is that heady mix of musk, shaving cream and a distinctly…male scent. And God knows that is one seriously jeopardizing distraction. Especially with a whizzing needle in one’s hand.

Check the top 1000 books on Amazon. Most of them have a shirtless guy on the cover, because they're smutty "romance novels" (read: porn for women) about a girl being swept off her feet by one (or more) billionaire alpha-males. There are literally tens of thousands of books out there about shirtless billionaire alpha-male vampires who can't wait to mate with you. Lucky you! And women eat that shit up! Men, not so much. Men prefer to watch actual porn.

I’m pretty much the definition of an American Hero.

I’d been kissed before. Many times. There were awkward and sloppy kisses, those tension-fraught moments of fumbling intensity as a teenager. There were more skilled kisses, passionate and intentional. There were kisses that stole my breath, kisses that merged seamlessly with the shedding of clothes and the joining of bodies. But never, before this moment, had there ever been a kiss that stole my will to pull away, that devoured my capacity for thought, that removed my ability to resist, to feel anything but the kiss.

Melody.” His voice was a tormented whisper on his lips.“Yes,” I said.“If you ever need to escape, come to me.”“What?” I asked.“Just come. I won’t. . .I would never hurt you.”“But—”“You’re all that matters to me.

Asleep? That's what she is right now?” Pure menace laced his words. “And when you decide to answer that question, Kane, be sure that you answer this with great care. I for one see you as my friend. We've never had problems. But now you've met my Melody, and problems cannot be avoided. So when I ask you, is she asleep, be sure that you give me a clear answer, because different ones will result in your death and the slashing away of every fucking person you know.

One should never believe the words I speak.

But my thoughtsbreed truthsthat my heartcan'tbare.Like Melody.

Pleasure and pain.That was my Melody.She was my poisonso toxic, when sampled,yet,so sweet...

...and the sorrow sent her spiraling back into sickness.

I think I could have loved you.

Come here. I told you to go to sleep and you wouldn’t go, so now you’ll have to take care of me.

The expression just set me on edge. He had the look of an injured wild animal. I imagined a hungry lion limping in front of me with a bloody paw. No matter how much the beast stumbled or bled, one would have to always remember that the creature could tear the average human body in half.

Why am I terrified?

No matter how much he’d done to me, my heart could not be done with him.

Anytime you need me, just call. I'll stop everything for you. Any fucking thing on this earth.

I already apologized for that.”“No, you didn’t.”“Then I’m sorry.”"“Fuck your sorry.”“Fine. Fuck my sorry.

Why let me heal when you'll just break me anyway?”“Because breaking you is half the fun.

Women will be the death of you.” Julio entered and sat down. “That's why I don't mess with them. They make men weak.”“You don't mess with them because you're gay.

It used to be that when I made mistakes like this or came close to losing my life, I would just call Miguel. He'd drop it all to come to me—his movies, media engagements no matter how big they were, and even his criminal activities went on hold for me. It made me think he cared.Miguel canceled an appearance on the Dave Letterman show just because he called me and thought my voice sounded like something was wrong.He directed his gaze to the bruises decorating my face. “You said you weren't hurt.”With those big arms, he picked me up and slammed the door behind us. “When I ask you if you're okay, you tell me the truth.

If I thought I’d been drawn to her, now I knew, I’d been taken,kidnapped,caged,destroyed,and all the other things that went with someone having complete power over another.

Red stepped inside my penthouse with her two friends...“Make sure all the staff knows that they need to spoil those three. Give them whatever they want, champagne, the caviar drizzled in hash oil, anything. Even my own stuff to smoke from the crystal bong I got in Paris to the vape pen done in pearl. They need to be impressed.

He smiled and captured my hand..... I attempted to pull my hand away. He tightened his grip just a little and kept my hand encased in his. A warmth spread through to me.

He placed his hands to his belt buckle and undid it. “Just be careful, Red. This isn’t a fairytale. No one will save you, if you decide to see how sharp the wolf’s teeth really are.

She held her hand out in front of her. “Wait.”“No,” I groaned and then cleared my throat. “I mean okay, I can wait.

What are you most scared of?” she asked and I wished she hadn’t. I didn’t like admitting it.“I’m scared of dying alone.

There's always a price.

That was when my hard persona cracked and shattered into pieces. My hands shook as I wiped away all of the tears streaming down my face. The hysteria that I’d held in all night fled my body.

Was it cruel if someone asked for it? Begged for it, even? She always begged. Even now, I could hear her whimpering for me. Christ, those noises she made. A one-way ticket to heaven.

When you’re a professional athlete, you get paid millions of dollars for doing something that’s not only fun, but also physical and badass. You have fans: pathetic people without their own lives or hopes or dreams that measure their happiness on your weekly performance (this still boggles my mind, but in the best way possible—however, my role as a fan now is quite detached). You get to travel around to different cities and fuck their most beautiful women. You are given license to do pretty much whatever you want all the time, and are forgiven easily and often instantly when caught doing anything illegal. Professional athletes can literally get away with murder.

I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. Once again he was close. Too close. So damn close. “At all,” she added, hearing with some alarm that her voice had softened. Everything had softened, at just his proximity. “Ever,” she whispered, and found her gaze locked on his mouth.He had a really great mouth.

He lifted his head, the sight of his dark, disheveled hair, eyes glinting with longing in the lamp light, the gorgeous spread of his shoulders, tapering down to the narrow thrust of his hips, made my ovaries ache deep in my belly.

It wasn’t desire, it was biology. My body was adapting to the situation. Doing what it needed to survive. That, I was certain of. Because if I had liked it, liked the hands of this monster, that would have made me a monster too.

She was the only antidote for the bleakness that lived inside of me. My goddess. My deity. I wasn’t a believer in any religion, but I’d make an exception in this case. I’d get down on my knees and worship at her alter every day if it brought her back to me.

Even when she was on her knees- filled with my darkness- she was still shining bright. My Siren’s song, my exposed nerve. She lured me in and made me feel. And then she left me to perish.

I needed to channel the darkness that ran through my veins and embrace it. To play this game better than this man ever could have predicted. After all, I’d only been with him twice, and already I could see his weakness. His weakness was me.

I didn’t know what to say. What to do. I didn’t feel strong anymore. I felt like I couldn’t go on without him. He loved me fiercely. Obsessively. Rivalled only by the intensity which I felt for him. So why couldn’t we be together?

It was Brighton. She made me fucking insane. Her beauty and absolute perfection dissolved any moral boundaries that may have existed within me.

Don’t deny me what’s mine, Brighton.

I’m not letting you go, baby girl. You need to accept that.

Know what’s worse than cold turkey? Just a little bump. One tiny sip to take the edge off. The edges never went away, they only got sharper. Every addict would tell you. Gray areas couldn’t exist in a sober environment.

I’d single-handedly go to war and burn their whole organization to the ground before I ever let them harm what was mine. And there were no two ways about it- Brighton would always be mine.

You’ve been drinking. Let’s go before I become the asshole prick you think I am.

There’s no other way to look at you. You’re the definition of beauty.

Sweet girl, if I told you everything, life would lose all mystery.

I met a boy. And when he smiled, my life began.

I want wings. That's all I've ever wanted.

He recovered quickly, reaching out to touch a few outstretched hands, melting the front row of girls like one long stick of butter as he moved closer toward me.

Red stepped inside my penthouse with her two friends.“Make sure all the staff knows that they need to spoil those three. Give them whatever they want, champagne, the caviar drizzled in hash oil, anything. Even my own stuff to smoke from the crystal bong I got in Paris to the vape pen done in pearl. They need to be impressed.

Any woman would have to be dead not to be attracted to the walking mass of sexy that was Erik MacGregor.

Guys like him? They were the worst kind. All looks and no heart. Guys not like him? They were all deceiving, freaking asshats.

What if I say no?""I keep asking till the only option is yes. I always win, Ms. Payne.

Annabel,” I whispered in her ear, making sure not to touch her. Her heartbeat accelerated, her skin got the chills, and her pupils dilated, not to mention how delicious she smelled and how the excitement only increased the scent. My own body got tense and aroused. “Let your guard down and trust me. Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen. I’m not trying to get you drunk or trick you. I just want to get to know you better.”“Shane,” she replied with her sexy, hot, and alluring voice that sent spirals of lust down my spine. “I have nothing against sleeping with you. I’m fully dressed for that.

Alphas, like Scarface, can be drug dealers, but it’s still a little grimy.

Short guys with attitudes always just kind of made me laugh, like small, yippy dogs.

I don't want you to be my fan. I want you to be mine.

Frowning I playfully blow a fresh handful of bubbles at him as we walks back out, laughing over his shoulder at me.

it was more overwhelming if I’m honest, one minute I’m just talking to him and the next I’m flat on my back and he’s-”“He’s?” they both said in unison“He’s touching places, with his …”Eyeing them both I give them a look as my chest redden further, I really don’t want to have to say specifically.

I want everyone to get plenty of rest tonight, because tomorrow, we make plans to bury the new council chair. And don't worry about the shovel shortage," I said, glancing from face to determined face. "Because Calvin Malone has dug his own grave.

What? Don't you want a girl who can talk dirty to you?"His look only hardens. "No, Lucy. I'm serious. I won't tolerate that from you." He doesn't look away and I feel that heat in the pit of my stomach, spreading down again. "Well...I've heard you curse before..." I swallow loudly, but keep his gaze."I'm a man.

I no longer fear the pain...I fear no release from this torture...knowing that I've hurt him and he can't forgive me...that he won't be able to make me his good girl again.

Flynn was kissing her again, not to help her forget but to force her to remember. Everything he had meant to her then. Everything he meant to her now. How he always had been, and forever would be, her world.

Then what’s the problem?” He was getting irritated now. “Are you scared, V? Scared that fucking me might turn into something more?” Taunting her, he continued, “Scared that I might just be able to get past that impenetrable outer shell?

You’re going to need more than an average kissing game to get with me, Cross.”“Nothin’ average about that kiss.”She sighed. “Don’t beg. It’s so unTexan.

In the spirit of the Alpha and the Omega, in the way the Alpha was theOmega, and vice versa, he knew the beginning was also the end—and that the end was just another beginning.

Acting so obviously submissive to Max around strangers, I felt a lot of humiliation. The looks from people, the comments. But I also felt this strange sense of pride. I am his possession, his property. And I'm proud of that. I'm proud of how happy I make him.

I'm going to give you pleasure so good you'll forget your name... You're going to think my name is Yes, God Yes, or Fuck Yes.

I like the idea of you on an island...""Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun."I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..."She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea?

Consider yourself taken, sweetheart.

I'm here to deliver what you need.

The only way I'm letting you go is off.

Not caring is absolute freedom, and if you own it, all the way, it emits supreme confidence.