Jamie Hunter

Rory was his eternal mate.

As soon as I find out what makes you wet, I will drown between your thighs.

There was nothing more attractive than a scary man cutting up meat for a pocket-sized animal.

“Every time you show me more of yourself, I thank the gods for you.”

If he bore her claw marks on his skin, he would never wear a shirt again; he’d never hated clothes as much as he did then.

Amelia jolted. “Gods.”
“Not even they can save you from me, love. Don’t bother calling for them now.”

She tapped him on the chest and motioned for him to bend down. “I can’t reach you.”
He lowered himself to one knee and held on to her hips.
“Get off the ground,” she hissed, glancing at the others. “I just needed you to bend a little.”
“I am where I have always been, love: at your feet, waiting for you to claim me as your own.”

Bring that perfect cunt to my face, love.”

“I will write your name on my chest with the blood of any man who tries to covet what is meant to be ours. Innocent or not.

“I like knowing when something affects you enough to travel down the bond. When you’re overjoyed, so am I, and when you hurt, I will destroy whatever caused you to feel that way.”