Trina

“How’s the book?” he drawled later, when he’d finished his workout and I’d grabbed the closest book I could find before he entered the living room. “Riveting.” I tried to focus on the page instead of the way Rhys’s sweat-dampened shirt clung to his torso. Six-pack abs for sure. Maybe even an eight-pack. Not that I was counting. “Sure seems that way.” Rhys’s face remained impassive, but I could hear the mocking bent in his voice. He walked to the bathroom, and without looking back, he added, “By the way, princess, the book is upside down.” I slammed the hardcover shut, my skin blazing with embarrassment.”
― Ana Huang, Twisted Games

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
― Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles"

“Remember. In public, you’re my princess, but in private, you’re my whore.”
― Ana Huang, Twisted Games

“Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would. Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, I closed the distance between us and grasped her chin with my hand. “But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do…” My fingers dug into her skin. “I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?” She nodded, her chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual. “I mean it, princess.” “I understand.” Definitely breathless. “Good.” I swiped my thumb over her bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?” “You,” she whispered. I could smell her arousal already, sweet and heady, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “That’s right,” I growled. “Me.”
― Ana Huang, Twisted Games