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“What does it say, do you think, about a male who keeps a woman in a cage?”
We tell ourselves twisted lies to tangle around our wicked truths, all so that we can get caught up in the bind and not have to face bare regrets.
“I’ll do that anytime you need catching, Goldfinch.”
“But I could’ve gilded you,” I repeat. “Then you’d be a statue stuck right here on the stairwell, and I don’t think gold’s your color, Commander.” “I disagree. Gold has quickly become my favorite.”
“My own good hated me, fought me, argued with me, but I didn’t care, because I watched her slowly come out of her shell, peeling back one layer at a time, and it was stunning.”
“I’m saying that you are my own good. And for you, I gave you a choice, but you chose him.”
“I’m glad you’re choosing you,” he says quietly, and my lips part, like I want to swallow the rumble of his cadence. “You are?” I go completely still as he moves his hand and grips my chin, like he wants to make sure I’m paying attention. I am. “Yes, Goldfinch. Because I’m choosing you, too.”
His hand moves to encase my jaw, angling me right where he wants me, and just that—the dominance of him, the strength but utter care—it makes me feel like I could burn forever.
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.”
“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Goldfinch. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“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.”
“Oh, Goldfinch, if you think that was crass, then you don’t want to know the things I’m thinking, because they’re positively filthy.”
“It’s fucking torture to have you stand there and tell me you want me, and not be able to do anything about it. But I’m a patient male, and as soon as I’m able, I’m going to touch and taste every inch of you. I’m going to have you writhing and begging, and I’ll give you every bit of pleasure I can wring from your delectable body,” he murmurs in a wicked promise. “The moment that sun dips, Goldfinch, you’re mine.”
“I want to breathe you in,” he counters. “Your every exhale, your aura, your very essence. I don’t want to miss a single part of you.”
