Emily Benson

“You can’t spoil me, Maxon. I don’t want anything.”
We were nose to nose by then.
“Oh, I know. I don’t intend on giving you things. Well,” he amended,
“I do intend on giving you things, but that’s not what I mean. I’m going to love you more than any man has ever loved a woman, more than you ever dreamed you could be loved. I promise you that.”
― Kiera Cass, The One

“Maxon, some of those marks are on your back so they wouldn’t be on mine, and I love you for them.”

He stopped breathing for a second. “What did you say?”

I smiled. “I love you.”

“One more time, please? I just—”

I took his face in both of my hands. “Maxon Schreave, I love you. I love you.”

“And I love you, America Singer. With all that I am, I love you.”
― Kiera Cass, The One

“He sighed contentedly. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

“I feel like punching you for calling me ‘my dear’ mostly.” I poked his bare stomach.

Smiling, he crawled to sit over me. “Fine then. My darling? My pet? My love?”

“Any of those would work, so long as you’ve reserved it solely for me,” I said, my hands mindlessly wandering his chest, his arms. “What am I supposed to call you?”

“Your Royal Husbandness. It’s required by law, I’m afraid.”
― Kiera Cass, The One

“. . . It’s me?”
“Of course it’s you.”
― Kiera Cass, The One