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

“How many times will you burn me? Three, four, five, maybe ten— Is it me who’s burning you? Yes, ‘this’ needs to end. If you walk away first, I’ll follow suit. I’ve told you this before, and yet you never do…”
― Whitney G., Turbulence

“Ride me, angel, work for this cock that can’t seem to get hard for anyone but you. If you do arrest me, I’ll spend the rest of my life remembering the way you begged me to fuck you and say prayers of gratitude for the opportunity.”
― Lillian Lark, Her Vigilante

“It’s so unpredictable, grief. One moment you are fine, focused on the task at hand. Yet just the mere mention of the name of the one you’ve lost and that all comes crashing down in an instant. Grief overwhelms as your heart remembers how much it loved one that no longer exists, and the longing for them turns into an aching pain.”
― Loxley Savage, Broken Beasts of Beauty