Danielle

“Maybe on day I can be just as lazy as you and turn off lights without moving.”
“That’s something to aspire to.”
… “God, you’re so modest.”
“Modesty is for saints and losers. I’m neither.”
“Wow, Daemon, just wow.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx

“Sure. Whatever. She’s all yours.”
Daemon grinned. “That she is.”
My hand was twitching to connect with his face. “I am not yours.” A small part of me wanted his to deny my words, though.
“Shush it,” he said, walking up to me.
“How about I shush it right up you—“
“Kitten, your language is so unladylike.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx

“Kitten,” he growled roughly.
I kissed him softly, sliding my hands into his silky locks, letting the pieces slide through my fingers. I tasted in him my own rising desire, my own need and heartache. Thrilling. Frightening. I pulled back.
“Kitten,” he said again, voice strained. “You don’t get to do that and then stop. That’s not how it works.”
I stared at him, my breath stalling in my lungs.
“Not when you’re mine.” Daemon backed us up and slid down the wall, pulling me on his lap so I was straddling him. “And you’re mine.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx

“Jesus.” Blake rubbed his throat. “You have anger management problems. Its like a disease.”
“There’s a cure and it’s called kicking your ass.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx