Kimberly

“I let my eyelids fall closed. In my mind, Draven’s voice rang out over and over, shouting my name. His voice was more powerful than the sea. More primordial than the stars. My name was on his lips as he promised unspeakable darkness to any who came between us.”
― Briar Boleyn, Queen of Roses

“We ride hard each day,” Draven barked. “We don’t dawdle or take breaks. We don’t stop to sightsee.”
“I’d never dream of asking you to sightsee,” Vesper said with an impressively straight face. “A man like you? Never.”
“Fine,” Drave said darkly. “Since you won’t leave when asked and as my only other option is to kill you, which I know she won’t like…”
“Your sister?”
“My companion,” Draven growled. “Since my companion would evidently prefer I didn’t kill you.”
“That would be very nice,” I said, as calmly as I could, my heart beating fast. “Especially when he’s so talented with breakfast.”
Were they really going to come to blows? I imagined exaggerating the story when I retold it to Galahad and saying two half-naked griddle-cake-scented, dazzlingly handsome men had been fighting over me.”
― Briar Boleyn, Queen of Roses

“His lips were sweet. Like rich honeyed-wine. Like the tang of wild berries. Like nothing I'd ever tasted before.
His mouth was gentle but persistent, coaxing my lips apart as his tongue swept inside me, tasting, exploring.
I moaned against his lips. My body was on fire. I gripped his shoulders as we kissed and felt his hands move to my hips, encircling my waist and pulling me closer against him until there was no space between us left.
The heat of his body against mine was a tantalizing lure. The kiss promised endless possibilities that made me dizzy to envision. I wanted to fall to the forest floor and pull him down with me.”
― Briar Boleyn, Queen of Roses

“It was Draven. He’d come up behind me. I jumped for a second time that morning, unable to help myself, then glared up at him. “How did you even do that?”
“I have the ears of an exmoor and the tread of a fenrir,” he said with a smirk.
“I’d say comparing yourself to wild animals was fitting, except the exmoor seems highly intelligent,” I muttered.”
― Briar Boleyn, Queen of Roses