There's four things a real man has to be able to do for a woman."
"Exactly how many man-lists do you have?"
He let my wrist go and ticked the items off on his fingers. "Fix her car. Grill her a steak. Kick the ass of any guy who makes her cry. And fuck her so hard she wakes up half-crippled."
"Oh my God.
Now you make yourself come, bitch. And I'll know if you're faking. You make that cunt clench around my cock or I swear to God I'll make you regret it
Cara McKennaThese few days with you have meant more to me than years with any other woman ever could.
Cara McKennaIn the simplest language, spoken without a single word between out two bodies.
Cara McKennaMerry kept talking, but he lost the thread. She wandered closer. With the knots banished, she gripped the tail of the rope in her fist, making an L of her arm and winding the length around her elbow in uniform loops. Rough, rasping rope against that smooth, perfect skin. And Rob on his knees.
Cara McKennaI love your body, for everything it's given to me," he murmured. "For letting me...letting me inside you. After all that time. And your hands, for touching me, and your soft skin, for letting me touch you. For your mouth. And kissing you, and for the things you asked me. For your ears, for being willing to hear my answers.
Cara McKennaThe intensity echoed through her, the same excitement he felt. He knew what she wanted -- he'd sensed it. He could please her.
She wants your voice, as well as your body. And he didn't even need to think to find the right words to say. He simply let them fall from his lips to her ears. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured. "That you're real.
Scary as this was...telling her these things was like a bloodletting. The initial cut hurt like hell, but with it done he could feel the toxins escaping, making room for relief. And all at once he wanted to give in. With a blinding bolt of understanding, he realized he'd had it all wrong, blaming his fetish all this time, thinking of it as some twisted, fucked-up force that lived inside him. A thing to be drowned in liquor, glass by glass, night by night, year after year. It wasn't his desire that had poisoned him. It was his shame.
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