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“I want your heart, Sin. (Callie)
It’s battered and useless, but what remains of it is all yours, milady. (Sin)”
― Kinley MacGregor, Born in Sin

“But no monk am I in my head, God grant me pardon," he whispered. His body drew closer, velvet and taut elegance. "My confessor has chastised me oft, and bade me study on my sins at length. And so, lady"--he kissed her, the hunger in it sinking down through her like a comet falling--"I have studied.”
― Laura Kinsale, For My Lady's Heart