Dasa

“You forget.” I pressed my fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath

“We’re only together because of a deal you made with my father. What’s it to you if my ex shows back up in my life? … Why do you care?”
“I don’t know!” The force of his reply stunned me into silence.
Dante’s granite mask cracked, revealing the torment underneath.
“I don’t know why I care. I just know I do, and I hate it.” Self-loathing coated his voice.
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose Control.”
Every word, every step brought him closer until my back pressed against the wall and the heat of his body enveloped mine.
“But I do.” His voice dropped, turning ragged. “With you.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath

“You live in my head all the fucking time, even when I don’t want you to…” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath

“Next time you try to steal a man’s fiancée,” I said, my voice deadly calm despite the rage tunneling through me. “Don’t be stupid enough to do it in his house.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath