new-adult-romance

You could__e pushed me away for years, I still wouldn__ have gone anywhere. I__ still be at your side, annoying the hell out of you until you finally agreed to marry me.

Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn__. Even. Care.

I sort of figured we'd be dating. It makes things like sharing a room a little easier.

With you, there's always music.

I'm making out with a dead girl in my dreams. I'm screwing women I have no business screwing. I'm pushing away the one person who actually gives a damn about me. It's like the Bermuda Triangle of heartache and I'm sinking fast.

I don__ think you__e crazy at all. I don__ want you to think that either. I can__ say that I understand what__ going through your head, but I can say that I__l be here for you no matter what. If I haven__ made it clear, I love you more than anything.

If you want to hit me, scratch me, punch me, I'll take it. If you want to yank my hair, spit on me, kick me, I'll endure it. I deserve to be punished. Leave your mark on my body. Show me how much I hurt you, then show me again. Because I'm prepared to withstand anything in order to keep you by my side.

He held me as if my bones were made of glass, as if my skin would tear beneath his lips if he applied too much pressure. When his lips pressed against the pulse at the base of my throat, I wondered if he could feel the power in my pulse, the power he was solely responsible for. As if in answer, his hand moved from my neck to my chest, resting over the space that contained my heart. There was something beautiful and intentional about that gesture, like he was acknowledging the mortal part of me that reacted so restlessly to his touch.

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

She can be a nightmare, but this still feels better than any dream.

You turn me on._ He cups my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes and a tear off my cheek.___od, you turn me on. You're driving me crazy. I want you to need my hands on you. Do you?

He's a reminder of what I want to feel everyday, whether it's with him or on my own. He's taught me that who I am when I'm with him feels too good to sacrifice for the approval of everyone else. The way I dress, the guys I talk to, the games I play... it's all plastic, and when I'm with him, I'm gold.

It didn't excuse what he'd done. Even if he'd...saved me-I choked on the word-from having to refuse Tamlin. Having to explain.

I'm going to hell. I'm pretty sure she'd going to drag me there herself.

Rhys gave no warning as he gripped my arm, snarling softly, and tore off my glove. His touch was like a brand, and I flinched, yielding a step, but he held firm until he'd gotten both gloves off. " I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no." "I didn't say anything." He turned my bare hand over, his hold tightening as he examined the eye he'd tattooed. He tapped the pupil. Once. Twice. " I heard it loud and clear.

The way to Braden's heart is through his dick. It's just wrapped up in latex and usually between some girl's legs.

In a typical college romance novel, he'd be a gorgeous but troubled sex god who'd cure all my deep-seated psych issues with a good hard fuck. I'd smell his misogyny and abusive tendencies from miles off but my brain would turn to hormone soup because abs. That's the formula. Broken girl + bad boy = sexual healing. All you need to fix that tragic past is a six-pack. More problems? Add abs.It's Magic Dick Lit.

I believe there are two kinds of people in this world. The ones who do everything right, expecting the perfect outcome every time, and those who know better.