Bridget Von Ascheberg Quotes

Bridget Von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would. Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, I closed the distance between us and grasped her chin with my hand. “But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do…” My fingers dug into her skin. “I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?” She nodded, her chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual. “I mean it, princess.” “I understand.” Definitely breathless. “Good.” I swiped my thumb over her bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?” “You,” she whispered. I could smell her arousal already, sweet and heady, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “That’s right,” I growled. “Me.

I’d been on edge all night. Hell, I’d been on edge for two years. The moment Bridget von Ascheberg entered my life, I’d been on a countdown to destruction, and tonight might just be the night everything went to hell.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn't matter that she wasn't mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.

Next to them, Bridget and Rhys’s daughter watched their roughhousing with a mystified expression that was far too mature for her years. With her blond hair and gray eyes, little Camilla von Ascheberg was a miniature clone of her parents. She also looked surprisingly regal for a two-year-old in her blue dress and matching hair bow.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself in her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.

Men. They always ruined it by opening their mouths." -Bridget Von Ascheberg

My truth? There was only one man who'd ever given me butterflies with a kiss. One man whose touch set me on fire and made me believe in all the fantastical things I'd dreamed about since I was a child. Love, passion, desire." - Bridget von Ascheberg

Because while what we had wasn't a traditional fairy tale by any means, it was ours. And it was forever.' - Bridget von Ascheberg

I'd never been in love, but I'd dreamt of it all my life. To find that grand, sweeping love, the kind wordt giving up a kingdom for." - Bridget von Ascheberg

More of his touch, his taste, his scent. I wanted to fill every inch of my soul with this man." - Bridget von Ascheberg

No one had ever turned me on as much as he did. Every word, every touch, every glance. I wanted it all." - Bridget von Ascheberg

I wondered if I would haunt him as much as he haunted me." - Bridget von Ascheberg

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself in her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would. Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, I closed the distance between us and grasped her chin with my hand. “But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do…” My fingers dug into her skin. “I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?

Bridget Von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn't matter that she wasn't mind to take. I was taking her anyway.

Princess Bridget von Ascheberg of Eldorra would be the death of me. If not literal death, then the death of my patience and sanity.

Bridget von Ascheberg would be the death of me. I’d known that the moment I’d set eyes on her, and my prediction was playing out in real time as I devoured her.

I didn’t waste time beating around the bush. This had been two years in the making, ever since I stepped onto her driveway and saw her staring back at me with those big, blue eyes. Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself into her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.

She tightened her arms around my neck and pressed a soft kiss to my jaw that made my heart twist in the strangest way. Then again, nothing about my life had been normal since Bridget von Ascheberg came into it.

I was proud of how normal I sounded when my insides were doing things that were anything but normal. Fluttering, skipping, twisting. My doctor would have a field day. “We’ve passed a milestone. Rhys Larsen’s first compliment to Bridget von Ascheberg, and it only took two years. Mark it down.” Rhys snorted, but humor filled his eyes. “One year and ten months,” he said. “If we’re counting.” Which he was. If my heart skipped any more songs it’d have no playlist left. Not good. Not good at all.

I’d never been in love. Never wanted to be in love. Hell, I didn’t even know what love was. It was always something I’d heard about, not experienced, until I met a woman who cracked my ironclad defenses like no one had before. Someone who loved the rain and animals and Rocky Road ice cream on quiet nights. Someone who saw all my scars and ugliness and still found me worthy, and somehow, someway, she’d filled the cracks in a soul I never thought would be whole again. I might not know what love was, but I knew I was in love with Bridget von Ascheberg, to the point where even I—the man who was so good at denying himself anything good in life—couldn’t deny it.