“Like what you see?”
He arched a self-assured brow, and she couldn’t stop a bubble of laughter from popping in her chest. “Yeah, I like what I see.”
“Good.” He eased on the bed next to her and she scooted back to give him more room. His fingers trailed up the flat of her belly to her breast. “Because I love what I see.”
Except he wasn’t looking at her body, he was looking at her—into her—as if he could see all her fears and flaws and accepted them.”
― Cynthia Justlin, Intrusion

“He yanked her into him, and covered her lips with his before she could protest. Pain radiated around his kneecap and down his leg, but it was so damn worth it for one taste of her sweet mouth. His tongue stroked the delicate seam of her lips and she stiffened, her jaw tensing under his fingertips.
Don’t pull away. Not yet. He hadn’t tasted his fill.
He caressed her cheekbones, traced their delicate curve until she sagged against him. Her lips softened and he nipped at her mouth until it parted for him. Blood thrummed in his veins. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth and slid his hands into the damp, silky curls of her hair.”
― Cynthia Justlin, Intrusion