Steph

“Oh, this is a special blend for you." Taking one of the fingers she hadn't licked, he rubbed it along her lips. "What we usually shed is apparently comparable to the most delicious of chocolates or the finest of wines. Decadent, rich, and very expensive."
She told herself she wasn't going to lick the glitter off her lips. "And this blend?" The taste was inside her mouth without her having any knowledge of taking it in. And Raphael was incredibly close, his wings creating a white gold wall all around them his hands strong and warm on her hips. "What's so special about it?"
"This blend," he murmured, bending his head, "is about sex."
She put her hands on his chest but it wasn't a protest. After the blood, the fear, she needed to touch him, to know this glorious creature existed. "Another form of mind control?"
He shook his head, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers. "It's only fair."
"Fair?" She flicked her tongue along his lower lip. It made his hands clench on her hips.
"If I licked you between your thighs, your taste would have the same aphrodisiac effect on me.”
― Nalini Singh, Angels' Blood

“He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?”

“Blades,” he whispered, “and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade.”
― Nalini Singh, Archangel's Kiss

“For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He’d been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt.”
― Nalini Singh, Archangel's Consort

“Mari began to suspect that this reflection was going to prove to be like that little computer paperclip assistant -- at first it helps, but after a while you just want the paperclip to die.”
― Kresley Cole, Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night