shanelle maree

“You killed him," I said. Malice smirked, as if this was funny. As if the brutal death in his guest room was nothing more than an outlet for his destruction. "I did." I was trembling, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline and fear. "You...you tortured him," I whispered. "I did." "You saved me." At my awed tone, Malice softened some. "I did," he echoed once more. Simple words packed with sentimental meaning. He cared. "And I’d do it again. Now come here and fuck me while his corpse watches.”
― Coralee June, Malice

“Anywhere will do. I don’t care if we go camping. Maybe next time we can?” “Yeah, okay.” He chuckles as he opens the door. “My brother has told me all about camping, I’ll meet you there.” I smile: that’s code for I’m never going camping.”
― T.L. Swan, The Casanova

“To all the sexy mountain men in the world, may you be real, may you have big dicks and may you know exactly how to swing that axe”
― Gemma Weir, Owned by the Mountain Man

“What level of threat is the bomb?" "What do you mean, sir?" "Do you think I’m safe to fuck my girl in my own home, or should we leave?" I wanted to claw his eyes out. Malice grinned. "It’s fairly small, sir. About thirty yards from the home. It looks to be more of a diversion than anything. However, I suggest you leave for your safety—" Malice ended the communication, let out a huff, and started walking me down the hall toward a room at the end.”
― Coralee June, Malice