“I press my forehead to his, our breaths tangling. “I hate you,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I hate you because I can’t stop wanting you.” He closes his eyes, jaw tightening, like he’s trying not to fall apart. “Then we’re both fucked,” he says.”
―
Avery Collins,
Conquest
“His eyes are wild and bright, pale blue, iced-over fire… and he grins. Blood on his teeth, sweat on his jaw. Pierced. Scarred. Filthy. Perfect.”
―
Avery Collins,
Conquest