Kimberly Schaaf

“No one is born with a talent. Talent is something we create on our own with practice and dedication.”
― Airicka Phoenix

“Do it, Octavian” She ghosted the tips of her fingers along the hem of his shirt. “Touch me.”

He growled low in his throat, his forehead dropping another inch toward her shoulder, his hair tickling the side of her face. “Be my angel, Riley, not my siren. Don’t tempt me.”

Moistening her lips with a sweep of her tongue, Riley glided her fingers over his belt, tracing the strip of leather to the silver buckle in the center. She felt rather than heard his deep inhalation and the tremor that raked his powerful body. Driven by his surrender, she used two fingers to walk over the square carvings etched into his abdomen, biting her lip to stop the grin that pulled when he groaned.

“I want to be both for you, Octavian,” she whispered, letting her lips brush the curve of his shoulder.”
― Airicka Phoenix, Octavian's Undoing

“A soft mist blew around them. Raindrops glistened in his hair, shimmering under the pale glow of the light post. His eyes were shadowed beneath wispy fringes, but the silver in them glinted like pools of liquid mercury. Her breath caught. It must have made a sound because his fingers tightened. His shaky exhale whispered across her face.
“This,” he whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “Is why you are so bad for me.”
― Airicka Phoenix, Games of Fire

“If someone could reach into my chest and tear out my heart and turn it into a living, breathing person, Isaiah would be it.”
― Airicka Phoenix, Touching Fire