When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

“Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.” All the breath shoves from my lungs. Love . . .

There’s nothing but a pair of big azure eyes, our tangling exhales, and the welcome weight of her in my arms. A fucking moon could fall and I wouldn’t notice.

“Your hands know me,” she whispers. “Yes,” I murmur against her hair. “Know you, crave you, worship you.”

I could go on. Tell her our bodies clash like they were made to tangle for eternity. That I could spread her in the mist and make her body sing. Have her unravel in seconds from a few tender touches coupled with a nuzzled nip to her neck, just below her ear.

Crack it open in hopes of finding the answers to the heartbreaking riddle of . . . Her.

She’s probably picturing me on my knees, and perhaps that should bother me. It doesn’t. I’d spend eternity looking up at her if she’d only fucking let me.

like she just fell from the sky and landed here. My heart aches at the sight. The thought.

“This truth is going to hurt, and you’re going to hate me for it. But there’s someone out there who needs you, and you’re going to change their life even more than you changed mine.”

“So, Raeve. You can swipe at me all you want, pretend you don’t love me as much as I love you. I can take more scars, despite how much they hurt. But you’re not running away.”