"I want to defile you, destroy you, corrupt you in the most sinfully beautiful way. Break you until you're completely mine." "And then?" "Then I'll piece you back together, of course." He took another step in her direction, closing the distance between them. "Love can be holy." He said but the look in his eyes promised anything but. "It can be kind and gentle. It can be the flutter inside your chest when you feel someone touch you, the blush staining your cheeks when someone brushes his knuckles over them." To prove his point further, he took his knuckles and brushed them over her sharp jawline, all the way to her lightly dusted cheeks and sharp cheekbones. "However, love can also be vile. Dark and all-consuming. The kind of love that makes you want to fall to your knees and let it destroy you." He let his palm rest on her soft skin and felt the warmth she provided so carelessly travel to him. "That's all I can offer you." Nathaniel Russ is a man devoid of passion. Cold, stern, a tragedy with skin. A wreckage just seconds before the crash. A writer. He spends countless hours teaching philosophy at the local university, waiting for something to make the words crawl out of him with the same vigorous appetite they once did. And he finds it, at the most unexpected moment. Guinevere Westbrook is a woman haunted by the sins of her past. And she just happens to be the muse he had been waiting for, even though she refuses to accept it. So, he orchestrates a game meant for two. A game. That's all it was. Until it wasn't. Adult themes, proceed with caution. All images belong to their respective owners. Source: Pinterest.

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)