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“I love you, even past the boundary of eternity. Not even the end of my existence could extinguish the love I feel for you.”
― The Call of Eternity
― The Call of Eternity
“Her hair was a beach of shimmering golden sand.
Her body was a sea of broiling passion.”
―
Her body was a sea of broiling passion.”
―
“Lucky Harris was getting to him. His sexy little captive had gotten under his skin. He wanted
her, and yet he could not bring himself to discipline and dominate her as he knew she secretly
desired. For the first time since the death of his traitor wife, Sebastian was afraid, afraid of his own
feelings. The bright-eyed blonde affected him as no woman ever had. It wasn't just her responsive
cries or her tempting body; it was her strong opinions, her outrageous attitude, that irreverent sense of humor. Lucky made him laugh, but it was more than that.
She made him feel alive.”
― DeMarco's Captive
her, and yet he could not bring himself to discipline and dominate her as he knew she secretly
desired. For the first time since the death of his traitor wife, Sebastian was afraid, afraid of his own
feelings. The bright-eyed blonde affected him as no woman ever had. It wasn't just her responsive
cries or her tempting body; it was her strong opinions, her outrageous attitude, that irreverent sense of humor. Lucky made him laugh, but it was more than that.
She made him feel alive.”
― DeMarco's Captive
“...She loses control over her body. Her every nerve ending screams in pleasure as his thick cock throbs inside of her, filling the void with warmth...”
―
―
“Do it again," she whispered, tilting her head, offering her mouth to him.
Staring down at her swollen bottom lip, he gave it a little lick.
A small, soft moan sounded from the back of her throat.
"Ask nicely," he whispered.
"Please." She gave a lock of hair at his neck an impatient tug.
He came undone. Delving his tongue inside her sweet mouth, he walked her backward until her back met one of the pillars. With one hand cradling the back of her head for protection, his other hand held her hip immobilized, under his control. Rhythmically, he sank his tongue into her honeyed depths, mimicking the motion of making love.
She whimpered, the sound a desperate plea. Her fingers threaded through the damp hair at the base of his neck; her other hand clutched at his forearm.
He squeezed her hip, his long fingers digging into her soft bottom as he rocked her into his arousal.
For several moments, she ground her hips against him as he plundered her mouth. The kiss was no longer enough. He wanted to take her. Right here, right now. His fingertips trailed down the back of her neck to caress her shoulder, her arm, her breast. His breath hitched when she pushed herself more firmly into his hand. She wanted his touch. He complied of course: he would never deny her. Gently he kneaded her through the fabric of her dress, purposely passing his thumb over the hardened tip. She made a small sound of pleasure that nearly pushed him over the edge.
The manor, the rain, the mud disappeared. Reason and practicality were momentarily suspended. Nothing mattered in those moments. Nothing but the ever-escalating power of their passion.”
― To Wed a Wicked Earl
Staring down at her swollen bottom lip, he gave it a little lick.
A small, soft moan sounded from the back of her throat.
"Ask nicely," he whispered.
"Please." She gave a lock of hair at his neck an impatient tug.
He came undone. Delving his tongue inside her sweet mouth, he walked her backward until her back met one of the pillars. With one hand cradling the back of her head for protection, his other hand held her hip immobilized, under his control. Rhythmically, he sank his tongue into her honeyed depths, mimicking the motion of making love.
She whimpered, the sound a desperate plea. Her fingers threaded through the damp hair at the base of his neck; her other hand clutched at his forearm.
He squeezed her hip, his long fingers digging into her soft bottom as he rocked her into his arousal.
For several moments, she ground her hips against him as he plundered her mouth. The kiss was no longer enough. He wanted to take her. Right here, right now. His fingertips trailed down the back of her neck to caress her shoulder, her arm, her breast. His breath hitched when she pushed herself more firmly into his hand. She wanted his touch. He complied of course: he would never deny her. Gently he kneaded her through the fabric of her dress, purposely passing his thumb over the hardened tip. She made a small sound of pleasure that nearly pushed him over the edge.
The manor, the rain, the mud disappeared. Reason and practicality were momentarily suspended. Nothing mattered in those moments. Nothing but the ever-escalating power of their passion.”
― To Wed a Wicked Earl
Jade’s 2025 Year in Books
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