Yasmina000

“He toyed with her ear, catching the rim delicately between his teeth. “I’ll admit it wouldn’t be easy, being married to a Romany male. We’re possessive. Jealous. We prefer our wives never to touch another man. Nor would you have the right to refuse me your bed.” His lips covered hers in a molten kiss, his tongue exploring deeply. “But then,” he said, lifting his mouth, “you wouldn’t want to.” Another long, lazy kiss, and then Cam said against her mouth, “You’ll wear the look of a well-loved woman, monisha.”
Amelia was forced to hold on to him for balance. “You would leave me, eventually.”
“I swear to you, I wouldn’t. I’ve finally found my atchen tan.”
“Your what?”
“Stopping place.”
“I didn’t know Romas had stopping places.”
“Not all. Apparently I’m one of the few who do.” Shaking his head, Cam added in a disgruntled tone, “My back is sore after sleeping on the ground all night. My gadjo half has finally gotten the better of me.”
Amelia ducked her head and pressed a shaky smile against the cool smoothness of his jerkin. “This is lunacy,” she muttered.
Cam held her closer. “Marry me, Amelia. You’re what I want. You’re my fate.” One hand slid to the back of her head, gripping the braids and ribbons to keep her mouth upturned. “Say yes.” He nibbled at her lips, licked at them, opened them. He kissed her until she writhed in his arms, her pulse racing. “Say it, Amelia, and save me from ever having to spend a night with another woman. I’ll sleep indoors. I’ll get a haircut. God help me, I think I’d even carry a pocket watch if it pleased you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“No one blames her."
"That never matters," said Alec. "Not when you blame yourself.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“People really are like house with vast rooms and tiny windows. And maybe it's a good thing, the way we never stop surprising each other.”
― Becky Albertalli, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

“Unwrapping the paper carefully so it doesn’t tear, I find a beautiful red leather
box. Cartier. It’s familiar, thanks to my second-chance earrings and my watch.
Cautiously, I open the box to discover a delicate charm bracelet of silver, or platinum
or white gold—I don’t know, but it’s absolutely enchanting. Attached to it
are several charms: the Eiffel Tower, a London black cab, a helicopter—Charlie
Tango, a glider—the soaring, a catamaran—The Grace, a bed, and an ice cream
cone? I look up at him, bemused.
“Vanilla?” He shrugs apologetically, and I can’t help but laugh. Of course.
“Christian, this is beautiful. Thank you. It’s yar.” He grins.
My favorite is the heart. It’s a locket.
“You can put a picture or whatever in that.”
“A picture of you.” I glance at him through my lashes. “Always in my heart.”
He smiles his lovely, heartbreakingly shy smile.
I fondle the last two charms: a letter C—oh yes, I was his first girlfriend to
use his first name. I smile at the thought. And finally, there’s a key.
“To my heart and soul,” he whispers.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Freed