Penny Reid

I might have been a little mesmerized for a moment as I took in the sight of her shapely backside. It was incredible. I just wanted to spank it and bite it and worship it and completely fucking defile it.

I loved begging him, following his rules. I loved the freedom I found in complete capitulation.

My upstairs brain and my downstairs brain engaged in a game of risk and it was downstairs_ turn to roll the dice.

And his eyes. Don't get me started on his eyes. Just . . . don't. I can't even with this guy. So. Gorgeous. They held an invitation as well, a twinkly, heated, mesmerizing invitation. And I wanted to RSVP so hard.

I had reclusive tendencies for a reason, I couldn__ be trusted to live in the world and make decisions on my own.

When you cried, I learned what helplessness tastes like. Because all I could do was swallow.

My type has a romantic soul. He'll make my heart and my brain fight over who gets him first. He does what's right, even when it's not easy - actually, especially when it's not easy. He knows the value of discipline, education, honor, and restraint. And his strength of character is the only thing that out weighs the strength of his love for me.

And you are more than the mistakes of your youth. You are more than the label you__e been assigned by people who might love you, but don__ really know who you are anymore.

She disliked_me. But she worshipped_my brother. He didn't see her, not really. Not like I did.

I would want forever with you.

I didn__ like how my body seemed to be intent on sabotaging my brain, especially since my brain was so good at sabotaging itself.

Elizabeth called it my mane of hair; I called it my bane of hair. However, it was far worse looking when it was short, sticking straight up or out at awkward angles; at least when it was long it almost obeyed gravity.

Where I'm from," Tom tilted his head to the side, "they call your kind a hipster or a lumbersexual, with the beard and flannel and such."Without missing beat, Jethro responded, "Ah. See, where I'm from, they call my kind a man.

Fire burns blue and hot.Its fair light blinds me not.Smell of smoke is satisfying, tastes nourishing to my tongue.I think fire ageless, never old, and yet no longer young.Morning coals are cool: daylight leaves me blind.I love the fire most because of what it leaves behind.