Quotes Chill

No clue what kind of karma got me stuck with William Wilde as my roommate. College was supposed to be chill, finally some freedom. But with him? It felt like SAT season all over again. I gamed, he hit the books. I went out, he grinded certs. I tried everything to mess with his groove. Then one day, he looked up and went, "Isaac, do you like me?"

“If you have any sense you would run away from me as fast as you possibly could,” Dougal Wilde said, his voice betraying some new emotions I couldn’t pinpoint. I looked at him through my lashes, and gently touched his cheek. “I do not think I want to take a single step away from you,” I whispered. He flinched at the touch of my finger. His eyes narrowed, the first indication of letting me know I was winning this war already. “Just as well. I am suddenly not in the mood to let you escape from me.” He lowered his head and his mouth moved on mine with astonishing tenderness, easing apart my lips until I obeyed the silent command. His lips surged into my warmth with stunning intimacy. I moaned softly and sagged against him. Never had a man kissed me in this manner. I shivered as he lifted me up against his chest. “Kiss me.” He ordered in a deep, dark voice that sent a delicious chill down my spine. Without stopping to think, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I moaned and sagged against him, my lips taking his in a soft whisper, lashing unto his tongue to suckle. “You little…” a groan was what ended his little speech. His hands found the strap of one end of my dress and pulled it down my arm, exposing my breast and pink little nipple. “So perfect.” He moaned. Without warning, he reached down and latched unto the nipple. ***** Natasha found herself falling for a man who is her father's friend and business partner. She knew she ought to run and never look back, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her want to fall into sin with him.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.