Eyes never lie, and hers told me she’d just bet her life on my word. Maybe it was courage. Maybe desperation. Maybe fate had finally decided to put someone worth protecting in my path. Whatever had brought a beautiful woman to her knees between mine with my freedom in her hand, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I would die before I let her regret choosing me.

And fuck me, I wanted to give her every beautiful thing she’d never had.

Not because she needed saving.

Because she deserved to be spoiled rotten.

His voice resonated in the air between us, hitting me with an intensity that was both unnerving and exhilarating. It was as if every syllable he uttered was designed to unsettle me, to knock me off-kilter. His words left me both melted and aflutter, inciting a paradoxical blend of anxiety and comfort within me. Listening to his deep timbre was a guilty pleasure—a secret indulgence that made me squirm.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

“Samantha, you’re okay. I promise. The orgasmic cocktail of oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin is just messing with your emotions.” He kissed my shoulder. With a soft chuckle, and added, “I knew you just needed the right man to please you. God, you’re so fucking amazing.”

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

A Manhattan mafia man and a princess hidden inside a cartel compound on the side of a Salvadoran volcano should never have met.

Certainly not in a dungeon with me chained to a chair and her holding the key.

I would never call the lies, torture, blood, or loss that brought us here a gift. But chance no longer seemed big enough to explain how two lives that should never have touched had somehow collided in the darkest of places.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it. God, he was handsome. But it went deeper than that now. He was the only person on this earth I trusted without hesitation. Somewhere along the brutal path that had led us here, he’d worked his way into my head and my heart, my future without ever asking, and I didn’t mind one bit.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

In my experience, the saucier a woman’s bravado, the more obedient she became upon surrender. I bet she’d love being praised as a good girl, knowing that she was adored—the object of my strongest desire.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

Instead of standing, he lowered himself onto one knee between my legs and took my face gently in both hands.

“Look at me, Isabella.”

Something in the roughness of his voice made me obey.

His green eyes held mine, and hearing my name wrapped in that deep Irish accent made everything else recede.

“You’re safe,” he said.

He let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow.

“And you’re right about one thing,” he said coldly. “I am a killer. I’ve ended lives without flinching. But there’s a difference between violence and violation. I don’t touch women who can’t say no. I don’t trade flesh for profit. And I sure as hell don’t parade innocents on a stage so monsters can place their bids.”

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

In the room’s silence, with only the soft hum of medical equipment for company, I poured out my heart to her unconscious form, clinging to the fragile thread of hope that she would somehow hear me, feel my love, and find her way back.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift