Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)

by Raven Kennedy

“You’re very floppy.” I rest my head against his firm, muscled chest. “You’re very hard,” I counter. A rich, dark laugh slips from his mouth. “You’ve no idea.”

But she knows. Women always do.

“Okay, doggies, shh!” They don’t shh.

You’re not the villain in my story.” “I am,” he says without remorse, his sharp jaw tight with tension. “But I’ll be the villain for you. Not to you.”

“All my life, men have had me, but I have never had a man.”

“I want all of you,” he tells me, a newfound hunger in the depths of his green eyes that stirs heat beneath my skin. “Every piece, every memory, every minute, every inch. This isn’t going to be some casual dalliance. This isn’t going to be temporary. I want you soul, mind, and body. I want your trust and your thoughts. I want your past, your present, your future. So make very certain that you want me for the right reasons. Be certain that you’re choosing this, because once you do, there’s no turning back.”

“Love happens in all kinds of ways. Fast. Slow. In bits and pieces, or immediate. Filled with lust, one-sided longing, a snap realization never noticed before. Deeply. Thoroughly. Love is a whisper we didn’t hear or a sound that drums in our ears and drowns out everything else.”

“I’d touch you if it wouldn’t turn you solid,” I admit. “One part of me is plenty solid already,” he says with a devilish smirk.

Imagine what women could do if we started being loyal to each other?

“Don’t,” I whisper. “I won’t let him make you into the villain.” A gaze as sharp as thorns hooks into me, holds me hostage. “I told you, I’ll be the villain for you.” Resolve bolsters my spine. “Yes. But so will I.”