I know what you want. You’re a vicious little hellcat—all teeth and claws. And you want to use them, don’t you? You want to fight. You like to fight.” She stiffened at the pinch of his teeth at her neck and he blew gently into her ear. “Fight me, then. Fight me as much as you want. As hard as you want. Because no matter what you do, I’m going to ruin you. No one will ever fuck you the way I do.

I participate in BDSM, but I wasn't abused as a child. I don't hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but it's consensual, it serves a purpose—to get them off—and they can indicate that they wish me to stop at any time. I do like the power I get from total submission, and the trust that my partner puts in me to give me everything, from her mind to her body, while expecting nothing in return—except the understanding that I won't violate that trust.

What once was had, forever lost; thy fate is destined, thy love star-crossed.

Valys also didn't think I was good enough for him. He made that clear every time he acted like a martyr forced to settle. But what he didn't understand was that if he thought I might not be good enough for him, he definitely wasn't good enough for me. I was well aware of my flaws, but I knew my merits, too; I shouldn't have to be anyone's second-best. Least of all, his.

I wasn't a complete bastard. If she liked to think she saw good in me, if she wanted to take credit for it, I'd let her. She deserved that much.

This softening she sees in me isn't enough to make me affectionate, but it's just enough to render me inept. I can't give her what she wants — virtuousness — or what she needs — protection.

I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want. But I'm also not going to take a vow of chastity and pine away for you, or whatever the hell it is that men do in romance novels these days. I have needs. I'd rather satisfy them with you, but if you don't want me I suppose I'll just have to find someone else. Might take me a while, but I'll make do. I always have before.

I suppose you don’t care about anyone,” said Catherine.Finn paused. “I find few people are worth the effort.”“A charmer like you?” she said. “No. I don’t believe it.

He wanted a fight, yes—but he wanted her willing, not besieged, with his name shattering from her lips like a broken shield as she surrendered.