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by
Eva Leigh
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July 17 - July 18, 2024
In the end, she would be pulverized, as her father and Lord Montford gathered around the dust of her remains to congratulate themselves on their accomplishments.
“The short leash your family’s got you on would choke a hound.” Celeste quirked a brow. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
He probably flirted the way other men took snuff. Purely habit, and nothing more.
It was slightly comforting that Celeste’s brother was so protective of her. Yet even the most protective instincts were smothering if they were applied with too forceful a hand.
“You’d much rather be a woman of earthly flesh, than some ethereal ideal. Salome connotes a woman who brings men to their knees.”
“We’re not always who the world believes us to be.”
“When Ma died, I understood something. How fleeting and illusory all of this is. And I vowed that day that if I ever had the chance to seize control of my own life, I’d take it.”
Do you trust me? No, don’t answer that. The gentleman part of me will be disappointed if you answer in the negative, and the rake part of me will be disappointed if you answer in the affirmative.”
Whereas you,” he went on, pointing a finger at Kieran, “are the biggest slut in London who wouldn’t know the meaning of constancy if it sucked your cock.
“It’ll be a good life, Star,” he said earnestly. “I vow to you, you’ll want for nothing.” What about having purpose? What about affection and companionship and understanding?
“I’m a grown man,” Kieran answered, “and grown men don’t fidget. We are moodily restless.”
“You deserve better,” she insisted, color high on her cheeks. “We both do.”
Men were peculiar, prideful creatures, but then again, the world didn’t rise up and applaud whenever a man displayed his feelings.
“You only like me this way because my garments are practically indecent.” His smile widened. “Much as I adore your scandalous clothing, when you’re Salome, you become the woman who’s been inside you all this time. I do love to see her.”
“True enough, but too much of a good thing is an even better thing.
Do you want to fuck me or not?” He jolted with arousal even as warnings shouted in his mind. “A better man would say no.” “I don’t want a better man,” she said wryly. “I want you.”
You could make all the grand pronouncements you desired, yet it was hubris, pure hubris, to think that having your lover gently and tenderly press a kiss to the top of your head had no repercussions.
she had a sneaking suspicion that if she did get some time with Kieran, she’d grab him and kiss him like she was a sailor on leave.
Strange to know that she was inflicting a wound on herself that she wouldn’t truly feel until later, stranger still that she saw it happening and didn’t stop.
there was nothing he could offer Celeste except the bloody and useless fragments of his own shattered heart.
Every material thing we might desire is ours for the taking, and yet we still suffer, unable to share our burdens, alone in our anguish.”
“I thought older brothers looked out for their younger siblings.” “This one knows a losing bet when he sees one.” “My soul is at ease with you beside me,”
A tiny bud of possibility tried to sprout within her, but she tore it up before it could take hold. She used to do that in Ratcliff with the little dandelions that tried to poke their way through the dirt and cracks in the road—pluck them and dig around to pull up their roots. It hurt too much to see them struggle to bloom in such a despairing place, where they would only wither or be trampled under passing feet.
“Playing on the dark side of the street wasn’t a good idea, Montford. That’s where I live, and that’s how I play. You’re nothing but an amateur.”
We never have to adhere to anyone’s definitions of who we are, or who we ought to be. We’re simply us. In all our imperfect, searching, wonderful beauty. So long as we see each other as we truly are, we need nothing more.”
