Quotes by A. Zavarelli

She blinked her eyes open, her lips parted and cheeks flushed, looking every bit like a goddess before him. And if he were a better man, he wouldn’t have been able to taint such purity. But he wasn’t a better man, and there was no turning back now.

His heart is the rhythm, mine is the echo.

My heart is a compass, and it always leads me back to you.

She made the beast rear its ugly head. Stirred fantasies in my mind I would have never otherwise entertained. Owning her wasn’t enough. Controlling her didn’t douse the inferno blazing inside me.

He tastes like mint and posession and fire.

And I’m trying to stay strong. I really, really am. But he smells so damn good, and his lips are just right there. All soft and inviting… and all I can think about is having them on my body.

Like Artemis and Orion, fate was working against us, and we couldnt be together in this life. But he will forever be immortalized in my heart.

And Im trying to stay strong. I really, really am. But he smells so damn good, and his lips are just right there... all soft and inviting, and all I can think about is having them on my body.

Human emotion is not a linear experience. That which provokes emotion in one may provoke little, if anything, in another.

His darkness bled into me, inch by torturous inch, consuming me from the inside out. It made me feel powerful.It made me feel free.It made the next words that flew from my mouth a plea that he never stopped. He was dark and twisted, but maybe I was too.

I wanted to break you. I never expected you to like it.

He kissed my tears away and whispered sweet words into my ears. Words that he was too afraid to say out loud. He told me I was beautiful. That I was perfect in every way. And that, unconditionally, I was his.

A smart woman would have walked away then. She would have lit a match and set fire to the entire clusterfuck that was this situation. But I was never a smart woman, and if you didn’t believe me, all you had to do was ask my mother.

This was worse than a coke binge. Worse than black tar or the thrill of E. This was the devil himself snaking his way inside of my heart and bending me to his will. This was addiction, quickly morphing into obsession. And somewhere in the clouded fog that was my brain, I knew this was a game I was going to lose.

This is the moment I realize that our traumas never really go away. They live inside of us, in the deepest darkest pits of our own tiny hells. Cocked and loaded, waiting for someone to come along and pull the trigger.

Was it cruel if someone asked for it? Begged for it, even? She always begged. Even now, I could hear her whimpering for me. Christ, those noises she made. A one-way ticket to heaven.

The last five years had been a series of carefully orchestrated events. Every move, every strategy had been poured over in painstaking detail before it was set into motion. Pieces on a chess board. A collision of fate and circumstance. I’d planned for every hitch. Every contingency. Except the one that blindsided me like a vat of acid to the face. I fell in love with her.

She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon, and for a moment, he wished he could keep her.

You already know all about monsters,” he said regretfully. “Don’t you kitten?

It wasn’t desire, it was biology. My body was adapting to the situation. Doing what it needed to survive. That, I was certain of. Because if I had liked it, liked the hands of this monster, that would have made me a monster too.