Noahllie > Noahllie's Quotes

“He will not take her.”
Sabelle turned toward the booming declaration. Ice. His protective gaze was as tangible as a caress. She swallowed.
“Of course not,” Duke assured. “Sabelle is too important to our cause.”
Ice stormed around the table until he hovered beside her, mere inches away, his body heat pouring over her. “If there is a breath left in my body, he will not take her.”
― Shayla Black, Possess Me at Midnight

“Familiar words chanted through his mind, demanding he speak them. He tried to bite his tongue. Now was hardly the time, and she'd likely laugh. Once spoken, the words would bind him to her for the rest of his life, even if she refused him, which was likely. And once she did, he could never touch another... not that he'd want to, since he hadn't almost from the moment he clapped eyes on her. Unless... what if she spoke the Binding?
Whatever she decided, the Mating Call was forever.
Despite that, he could not stop. "Become a part of me, as I become a part of you. And ever after—"
"Oh my God." She gasped. "Ice, I—"
"I promise myself to thee."
Sabelle might not want him to finish this Call, and saying it might doom him, but the taste of her still rolled around on his tongue like ambrosia. Instinct reeled, roared. No way would she stop him from trying to stake his claim and make her his.
"Ice," she implored. "My brother—"
"Is not involved here." He felt his eyes burning into her. "This is between you and me."
"But... I—I don't... He won't approve."
Bram wouldn't. That went without question. And right now, he could give a shit. But he noticed that she hadn't said she didn't want him. "What do you want? Because I know I want you, princess. Any and every way you'll let me have you."
God, her lips were right beneath his, and he needed another taste of her so badly, every cell in his body craved it. Damning caution, he layered his mouth over hers again. She was like sinking into sugar, sweet, light, tempting... addictive. He nibbled at her lips, then prowled deeper, engaging her tongue. Then deeper still, consuming as much of her as he could with a single taste. Again, the urge to claim, to mate, scraped down his instincts, clear, loud, strong. He lifted his mouth, panting over her lips. "Each day we share, I shall be honest, good and true. If this you seek, heed my call. From—"
"Stop!" She grabbed him by the sleeves of his robe. "Ice, think. If you say the rest, it's done. Even if I refuse, as long as I live, you'll be bound to me."
"I want nothing else." He stared deep into her eyes, as a feeling of rightness, inevitability settled into his gut. "From this moment on, there is no other for me but you.”
― Shayla Black, Possess Me at Midnight

“She frowned. “I did nothing to arouse you.”
He clenched his jaw, his stare growing more aggressive. “You breathed.”
― Shayla Black, Possess Me at Midnight

“Cuando uno se enamora las cuadrillas
del tiempo hacen escala en el olvido
la desdicha se llena de milagros
el miedo se convierte en osadía
y la muerte no sale de su cueva
enamorarse es un presagio gratis
una ventana abierta al árbol nuevo
una proeza de los sentimientos
una bonanza casi insoportable
y un ejercicio contra el infortunio
por el contrario desenamorarse
es ver el cuerpo como es y no
como la otra mirada lo inventaba
es regresar más pobre al viejo enigma
y dar con la tristeza en el espejo”
― Mario Benedetti Enamorarse y no

“Compañera
usted sabe
que puede contar
conmigo
no hasta dos
o hasta diez
sino contar
conmigo

si alguna vez
advierte
que la miro a los ojos
y una veta de amor
reconoce en los míos
no alerte sus fusiles
ni piense qué delirio
a pesar de la veta
o tal vez porque existe
usted puede contar
conmigo

si otras veces
me encuentra
huraño sin motivo
no piense qué flojera
igual puede contar
conmigo

pero hagamos un trato
yo quisiera contar
con usted
es tan lindo
saber que usted existe
uno se siente vivo
y cuando digo esto
quiero decir contar
aunque sea hasta dos
aunque sea hasta cinco
no ya para que acuda
presurosa en mi auxilio
sino para saber
a ciencia cierta
que usted sabe que puede
contar conmigo”
― Mario Benedetti

“Mi táctica es
mirarte
aprender como sos
quererte como sos

mi táctica es
hablarte
y escucharte
construir con palabras
un puente indestructible

mi táctica es
quedarme en tu recuerdo
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
pero quedarme en vos

mi táctica es
ser franco
y saber que sos franca
y que no nos vendamos
simulacros
para que entre los dos

no haya telón
ni abismos

mi estrategia es
en cambio
más profunda y más
simple
mi estrategia es
que un día cualquiera
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
por fin me necesites”
― Mario Benedetti Táctica y estrategia

“No lo creo todavía
estás llegando a mi lado
y la noche es un puñado
de estrellas y de alegría
palpo gusto escucho y veo
tu rostro tu paso largo
tus manos y sin embargo
todavía no lo creo
tu regreso tiene tanto
que ver contigo y conmigo
que por cábala lo digo
y por las dudas lo canto
nadie nunca te reemplaza
y las cosas más triviales
se vuelven fundamentales
porque estás llegando a casa
sin embargo todavía dudo
de esta buena suerte
porque el cielo de tenerte
me parece fantasía
pero venís y es seguro
y venís con tu mirada
y por eso tu llegada
hace mágico el futuro
y aunque no siempre he entendido
mis culpa y mis fracasos
en cambio sé que en tus brazos
el mundo tiene sentido
y si beso la osadía
y el misterio de tus labios
no habrá dudas ni resabios
te querré más
todavía.”
― Mario Benedetti Todavía

“Una mujer desnuda y en lo oscuro
tiene una claridad que nos alumbra
de modo que si ocurre un desconsuelo
un apagón o una noche sin luna
es conveniente y hasta imprescindible
tener a mano una mujer desnuda.

Una mujer desnuda y en lo oscuro
genera un resplandor que da confianza
entonces dominguea el almanaque
vibran en su rincon las telarañas
y los ojos felices y felinos
miran y de mirar nunca se cansan.

Una mujer desnuda y en lo oscuro
es una vocación para las manos
para los labios es casi un destino
y para el corazón un despilfarro
una mujer desnuda es un enigma
y siempre es una fiesta descifrarlo.


Una mujer desnuda y en lo oscuro
genera una luz propia y nos enciende
el cielo raso se convierte en cielo
y es una gloria no ser inocente
una mujer querida o vislumbrada
desbarata por una vez la muerte.”
― Mario Benedetti Una mujer desnuda y en lo oscuro

“Your life needs an airbag. I swear, Anastagio, you should have come equipped when you were born.” Just then Dante leaned against him, brow between his shoulder blades for a moment, so tentatively Griff held his breath. His voice was almost sheepish. “Nah. Everyone knows I was born defective. They didn’t instal you until later.”
― Damon Suede

“You conquered me, got to this Special Forces bloke well and truly." His voice husky and low. "You could betray and kill me now and I wouldn't give a shit as long as you'd stay close until I died.”
― Marquesate, Special Forces - Soldiers

“Right now he was nothing but a physically hurt man who had been through hell and back, clinging to his promise. “We be... together. More than just... few... hours. Wanna die... with you. Not... alone.” Fought to stay awake, needed to spend every second with Vadim while he could.

Vadim kissed that hand again, looked up. “We won’t die. We'll never die. I promise. He’d promise anything, meant it, would die defending this man, would live and die and suffer for him.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“I need you.” He could not go any further down. Rock bottom. And at the very bottom was just this one thing. The core of it all. “Fucking... love you... too much.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“Dan pulled him in. Anchored him. Secured him, like one mountain climber to the other, rope and irons and nothing but the abyss if the rope failed. “It will work. I haven’t got this far to give up.”

“It’ll work.” Dan’s kisses grew more intense. “It must.” Because you’re mine, and you belong to me.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“I’d die for you, Dan. No questions asked.”

“No, Vadim. No.” Dan’s dark eyes were unforgivingly intense. “You must not die for me, not ever. You must live for me, you understand?” His fingertips rested on Vadim’s face. “Give me your word, you will live for me, whatever happens. Even if I never see you again. I need to believe that somewhere, out there, you are alive.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“Dan didn’t want to say anything, but the words were unstoppable. “I fucking love you. Don’t leave me. You’ve got to find me.” Again, fucking tears. Vadim shook his head, then pressed his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder, hoped to hide his weakness and felt like a man condemned to die.

“I will... find you. If it’s the last thing I’ll do, I’ll come back. Nothing will stop me.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“I thought I was better than you.” He felt too much, was tearing himself open with all this, but nine years deserved all his pain. “How wrong was I.” Vadim reached behind him to touch Dan’s neck.

“I wanted you even then. And I was... curious. I tried to... get into your mind, and instead let you in. Not good, and yet best thing I’ve done in this whole war.”
“Best thing I’ve done in all my life”.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“If I don’t wear anything, I’d probably make the food go off, and the children run away screaming. What with all the scars and all. I’m not what one could call particularly pretty.” Unlike you, Vadim, and your goddamned perfection, except for a word cut in blood and flesh.

Vadim shook his head, already retreating towards the open door. “'Pretty' is different,” he murmured. “'Pretty' has no scars. You are... Jaw muscles tensed again. “Like the morning sky in Afghanistan. Not ‘pretty’. Word’s ‘breathtaking’.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Soldiers

“One touch from you...,” water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, “makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Mercenaries Part I

“Aye, that’s me. Rough tough squaddie with the intellectual depth of a shallow baby bath and the educational background of a hedgerow. Complicated? Yeah, right.” Dan laughed.

Vadim laughed, too. “Sorry, but that just about nails it.” He grew more serious and whispered. “But you also have the heart of a tiger and the vastness of a mountain.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Mercenaries Part I

“When it got really bad, when nothing else got me through, I was thinking of you. How you tilt your head when you laugh; the way you eat your cereal really fast so that it doesn’t go soggy; how you squint your eyes and scrunch up your face into a grimace, every time anyone mentions eggs.” Hooch dropped his voice even more, until Matt had to lean closer to hear the whisper. “Your shit-eating grin when you wave your ass into my face, telling me to fuck you. The sound you make when you cum, going straight to my cock and blowing my mind. The smell of your sweat right after sex ..." Hooch paused, pulling in a breath. "And when I wasn't sure if I could make it through another hour, then I thought of your face that looks so damned young when you're asleep, and I remembered how you sometimes say my name, and how the sound of your voice makes me ache inside.”

Hooch fell silent and Matt stared at him. Wide-eyed, frozen in shock. Insides churning, a pain he hadn't known before, travelling from his heart throughout his body, and it felt so fucking good. Understanding with every fibre of his being what Hooch had said in too many words. More than he’d ever used before, and without those three simple ones that would have sufficed.”
― Aleksandr Voinov, Special Forces - Veterans

“I’m here to horrify you,” he said. And then, because he couldn’t bear it any longer, he reached out and pulled her to him. She was warm and soft in his arms, and she smelled so deliciously right. He could have inhaled her scent for hours.

“Hugo—”

He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to answer any questions. He didn’t know who he was or what he wanted or what dreams would come to fill his heart. He only knew that if he couldn’t have her, nothing would ever be right again. And so he kissed her. He tasted her, sweet and steady against him, put his hand in the small of her back and drew her toward him.

She kissed him back.

“I love you,” he said. The truth took root inside him. For the first time in years, the dark words of his past receded.

“But, Hugo…”

He set his fingers over her lips. “Let me do this,” he said. “I thought I had to prove myself with money and accomplishments. But those will always ring hollow. They will never be enough. I want to be somebody. Let me be your husband. Let me be the father of your child—of all your children. I got more satisfaction from striking Clermont than I did from any success I found in business.”

She pulled back from him. “You struck Clermont?”

“Twice. And—that reminds me—I blackmailed him into promising to send your child to Eton.” Hugo tightened his grip around her. “I’ve never pretended to be a good man, you know. It’s just that…I’m yours.” He leaned his head against hers.

Her breath was warm against his face. “Did you hit him hard?”
“I’m afraid I did.”

“That’s my Hugo.” There was a grim satisfaction in her voice. “I love you, you know. If you hadn’t come, as soon as winter set in and the ground became too hard to work, I’d planned to come for you.”

“Well, I’m glad I came to my senses,” Hugo said. “You shouldn’t have traveled, not in your condition. Yet curiosity impels me to inquire. What did you plan to do, once you arrived?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.” She lifted her face to his, traced the line of his jaw with her fingers. “This.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And this.” She kissed the other corner. “And…” She took his mouth full on, her lips soft against his, tasting of all the things he’d most wanted.
“I’d do that,” she whispered, “until you were forced to admit you loved me.”
“I love you.”

“Well, that’s no fun.” She kissed him again. “Now what excuse do I have?”

He drew in a shuddering breath and pulled her closer. “You could make me say it again,” he whispered. “Make me say it always. Make me say it so often that you never have cause to doubt. I love you.”
― Courtney Milan

“Be quiet, Ash. I am trying to remember you.”

In the lamplight, shadows collected on his face as his eyebrows drew down. He must have taken her meaning, because he shook his head. “Well. I am trying to have you.” His voice was fiercely possessive. “Not for one night, nor even two. I want you every evening—mine outright, not a few hours stolen here or there. I want you during the day, on my arm. I want to know that when we’re apart you’re missing me; I want to know when we’re together, I’m the one who puts the smile on your face.” He punctuated each phrase with a kiss—against her chin, the line of her jaw, the hollow of her neck.”
― Courtney Milan

“When his eyes rested on her, he stopped. He’d been smiling before, in a friendly fashion. But what lit his face when he saw her was more than a smile, more than a grin. It was as if someone had thrown aside the curtains of a sickroom on a glorious morning, to let sunlight spill into every darkened corner.”
― Courtney Milan

“Lady Cosgrove gasped louder but recovered quickly. “Mr. Turner,” she said, reaching out for Ash’s cuff. “Do listen to me. I know that you may believe that Lady Margaret has your best interests at heart, as she is some kind of a relation, if only a distant one. But if you intend to be a duke, you must not let yourself be guided so easily, not by one such as her. Take my warning to heart: she’s using you to punish me, because I kept my distance from her these past months. You know that any woman of good sense and decency would have done the same.”

No, Margaret had never been like Lady Cosgrove. For one thing, she had never been so stupid. Ash’s smile grew darker, and he looked at the woman. “I knew the instant Margaret spoke that she intended to use me as a weapon. What you fail to understand is this: I am her weapon to use.”

Margaret’s lungs burned. So much for not occasioning gossip. But she couldn’t fault him. She couldn’t reprimand him. She couldn’t even stop her own smile from spilling out, stupidly, over her face, the truth writ large for anyone to see.”
― Courtney Milan

“Ash.” Margaret knew her voice was trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I adore you. Because you looked so stricken when I saw you and I couldn’t bear not to comfort you.” His voice was warm breath against her skin. “Did you know, when you left that room, you took all the light with you?”
― Courtney Milan

“You don’t love me,” she said slowly. “You’ve looked at me the same way from the instant we met.”

His grip tightened on her waist. He leaned into her on a hiss. “Don’t tell me I don’t love you. Don’t you dare tell me that, Margaret. I have loved you since the moment you read my brother’s book to me. I love that you are the one woman I can trust with my weakness, that you know all the dark parts of me and do not turn away. I love the fierceness with which you protect the ones you love, even when they don’t deserve it. I love every last inch of you, and I want you for my own.” His words were hot, fiercely possessive, and yet he leaned his forehead against hers gently. “Although God knows, I don’t deserve you.”
― Courtney Milan

“And then he lifted his eyes from the chair to his bed. If this was his imagination, his imagination was glorious. Margaret lay on his coverlet, stretched out full length. She still wore a corset and petticoats, but they’d been hiked up so that he could see where her garters tied at the knees. She crooked one finger at him and smiled.

“Margaret. What are you doing here?”

“I,” she said, “have been procuring my future.”

His mind went blank. He didn’t know how to take it. She’d decided to have him, after all. She’d realized she didn’t need him, not one bit. His head pounded. His heart swelled in a mix of hope and despair.

“I want you.”

Hope. Hope. It was all hope. He took a careful step towards her.

“Wait. There’s a condition.”

“You know,” Ash said, his throat closing, “that if you are half-naked on my bed, all conditions will be met. Instantly.”

“Ah, but this is one of the conditions I did not deliver to Lord Lacy-Follett earlier today.”

If he’d been overwhelmed by her appearance before, he was stunned now. “You talked to Lacy-Follett? You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. I had to renegotiate, after I’d heard what you had done. I had been so blinded by my loyalty to my brothers that I could not see that I owed loyalty to you, as well. I was wrong. I love you, Ash.”

He swallowed.

She smiled up at him. “I love that you make me feel as if I’m the only woman in the world. I love that you’ll always be there for me.” She sat up on the bed, and her petticoats fell, so that only her toes peeked out at him from underneath those layers of fabric. “I want to paint my own canvas, Ash. And I want you on it with me.”

Delicately, she stretched out one leg. Her foot flexed, and then her toes found the floor. He was helpless. Just seeing her push to her feet got him hard. And seeing her in his room—on his bed—made every part of him reverberate with the rightness of it.”
― Courtney Milan

“She shouldn’t have been beautiful—she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still… Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw you,” he said. It came out close to a whisper.

“Oh?” He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.

“Don’t even think of arguing.”

She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.

He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. “I want you to eat,” he said.”
― Courtney Milan - Unraveled

“Will I see you at all?”

He shook his head. But he couldn’t yet make himself move away. He was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her, unwilling to say that final good-bye. He held her for a minute, then two, then three, simply holding her and committing to memory what he could not have in life. There was a sweet, comforting scent to her.

His memory was very, very good, but she was better.

He only loosened his grip when he feared he might not be able to let go of her at all.”
― Courtney Milan - Unraveled

“Smite,” she asked softly, “do you have any idea what to say to me in a situation like this?”

“Of course I do,” he retorted. “I have plenty of ideas.” He met her gaze ruefully. “Of course, they’re all wrong, and so I’m totally at sea.”

She patted the cushion next to her. He crossed the room and lowered himself down. And then, because he didn’t seem inclined to do it himself, she picked up his hand and slid it around her shoulders.”
― Courtney Milan, Unraveled