Joann Williams

“I can’t,” she cried, feeling her knees melt. His lips left her with a wet, wicked sound. “Ye will,” he breathed against her most intimate flesh. “I’m going to fall,” she warned weakly, her hips undulating toward his mouth with mortifying wantonness. “Fall apart in my arms, lass,” he soothed, his hands caressing around to fill his palms with the flesh of her backside, making a cradle of her hips. “I’ll not let ye go.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, The Highlander

“Well, if he was already damned, he might as well follow his wicked impulses all the way to hell. At least he’d get to taste her again. Liam sprang toward her, grasping her wrists and pulling her back down to him. He sank his fingers into her luxurious hair, loosening the intricate coiffure there, and pinned her head between his two strong palms as he took her wicked mouth with his own. It was in the joining of their lips that Liam found what he’d come to the chapel seeking. He kissed Mena with a reverence he’d never felt in the entirety of his life. Driven by a hunger that welled from the darkest, most heretical depths of his soul, he knew he’d finally found something worthy of his worship.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, The Highlander

“She’s been mistreated and she knows I’m a violent man. She’s terrified of me…” “And yet?” Mary prompted. “She yelled at me,” he said incredulously. “It’s been decades since anyone dared … she told me I couldna issue her orders, and that she was a woman with free and independent will. She called me an overbearing brute.” “Oh, Lord.” She hid a laughing smile behind her fan. “What did ye say to that?” “I kissed her. And she kissed me back.” “Marry her, Liam,” she ordered, snapping the lace fan closed. “As soon as you can. Tomorrow if possible.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, The Highlander

“My arms ache to hold you,” he said. “No’ just for a little while. For a long time.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise