Shallow River Hd Carlton Quotes

Because I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you. And now that I finally found it, I’m fucking terrified of losing it.

I’m stained. I’m also other things too. Broken. Scarred. Traumatized. Strong. Fierce. Vengeful…

Abusers don’t only manipulate their victims, but they get off on making other’s believe that they’re upstanding people.

The only thing I ask is that you don’t treat me like I’m glass. I’m not weak. I’ll never be weak. I just want you to be you.” “Not for one second have I ever thought you were weak.

I know I’m bigger than most, far bigger than most. But I don’t care what anyone says, no man can deny the ultimate satisfaction when a girl fawns over it. Especially the girl you’re madly fucking in love with.

Fuck, she tastes sweeter than I imagined. Countless nights, I fantasized about those lips on mine. On my body, and especially on my cock as I got myself off to thoughts of her. Too many nights of doing the same thing, from the moment I laid eyes on River knocking the daylights out of the handy asshole at the club.

Did I say something wrong?” I ask. “No,” she says weakly. “You said everything right. You’re perfect.” “Why are you crying?” “Because I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you. And now I that I finally found it, I’m fucking terrified of losing it.” “I get it. That’s how I’ve felt for months now. But if I have anything to do with it, River, that won’t ever happen.

Is this what you needed?” I grit out, enunciating my words with a sharp thrust. “You needed me to fuck this sweet little pussy, didn’t you?” “Ungg, yes!” she pants, nodding her head like a bobblehead. “Is this what you fantasized about every time you touched your pussy, wishing it was me?” Another garbled ‘yes’ comes from her throat. “But it feels so much better,” she gasps. “You feel so fucking perfect, baby,” I groan.

The heady demand from her lips has me instantly reacting, listening to her command like a trained K-9.

River McAllister’s lips feel like fucking heaven on earth.

I snatch her wrists and pull them tightly behind her back, just like I do when I arrest a criminal. Kissing this woman is criminal.

River,” I grit out. “You’re killing me.

You’re so fucking perfect.

Seeing her connected to me is incredibly erotic and something I intend to see every goddamn day for the rest of my life.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! This woman will be the death of me.

They’re on fire, liquid gold simmering over a fire raging only for me.

Her eyes nearly roll, and I’ve decided it’s my life’s mission to see that sight any chance I can get.

She comes completely undone against me, and it’s the sweetest sight I ever did see.

Are you okay?” I ask hoarsely, not proud of the way my voice trembles. “I… Is it normal to have a fucking horse dick?” she finally gasps.

I’ve never felt anything so fucking incredible in my life. She molds to my cock like wet clay.

The only thing keeping me grounded is my need to make her come first. I refuse to come a second before she does.

My name falls from her lips like a desperate prayer, finally snapping my control.

My heart seizes and contracts. She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

Sex with Mako is dangerous if it completely halts the ability to think properly.

The dread cements inside my chest. I’m going to need a jackhammer to clear it out when this is all said and done.

You think he makes you feel like a queen when really he treats you like a fucking peasant

The moment her golden eyes landed on me, she trapped me in and made me hers. I didn’t know it at the time, but she never let me go.

This room is dusty and dirty, not an ideal place to have sex. But I’d sell my soul to the devil if it meant I never had to stop.

I love how much she needs me.

Am I your prisoner?” she asks seductively. “For as long as you’re willing to be,” I murmur.

Never in my life would I think River to ever be shy, but fuck if it doesn’t do something to me.

That was what made me fall in love with you, River.

The only regret I have is that she’s grinding against her hand when it should be my tongue. Even as I come down slowly, my entire body does limp and buzzes from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

You don’t like the way Ryan hurts you, River, not like you like the way I fucking do. His pain only brings you sorrow and agony, while mine brings you desire you don’t even know how to handle. Now. Try. Again.

Did I hurt you?” I ask, lifting my hips just slightly. “I like the way you hurt me,” she whispers. Something primal erupts inside my chest. It’s a living, breathing beast that River has just awoken from its slumber.

The biggest misconception with survivors of abuse is that they're choosing to stay. Anyone in our situation would leave if it were easy. But when someone is threatening your life daily, sometimes staying seems like the safer choice. Even if you know, it'll kill you someday.

Your hair has always been a symbol of your tenacity. You bounce back. It didn’t matter what I did to you. I stretched you thin, and no matter how hard I did it—you always bounced back from it. It was fascinating watching you grow up. It made me want to try harder to break you, but I never really could.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch you touch yourself,” I whisper. A small gasp leaves her plush lips. She stops the little circles she’s been inadvertently moving her hips in. I take one step back, watching with fascination as a blush travels up to her neck. So fucking pretty. “Do I get to watch you, too, or are you a selfish lover?

What’s wrong River? Not so brave now, are you? You like to hide from your truths. You’d rather lie to us both and pretend you love that piece of shit rather than admit you want someone better. You think Ryan could take care of you the way I could, huh? You think he makes you feel like a queen when really he treats you like a fucking peasant?

If you end up in my handcuffs, it won’t be because I’m arresting you.

The biggest misconception with survivors of abuse is that they’re choosing to stay. Anyone in our situation would leave if it were that easy. But when someone is threatening your life daily, sometimes staying seems like the safer choice. Even if you know, it’ll kill you one day.

You’re wearing a lot of makeup,

You shouldn’t be punished for showing the world that you’re beautiful. Those men are wrong for sexualizing a little girl. That’s sick, River. It’s okay if a man looks at you—as a grown woman—and finds you attractive, but it is not okay if that man assumes that gives him the right to make you uncomfortable in any way. Whether it’s by the way he looks at you, speaks to you, or touches you. If you want to walk out of the house in the sexiest thing you own, then that’s your goddamn right because it is your choice to show off your body. Don’t give any man the power to control what you do with it.” “It’s mine,” I whisper. “It’s yours,” he repeats. “No one else’s.

The only way I want to own a woman is by owning her pleasure. I want her body to sing for me—a tune that only I can hear. I want her body to gravitate towards mine like a moth to a flame. And I want her to grow to dislike the feeling of being so empty when my cock isn’t inside of her.

have to go now.

Keep it up, River. You won’t be able to moan the wrong name when your mouth is full of my cock,

Don’t pretend like you’re not imagining my cock buried deep inside you.” My grip tightens a bit. “You wanted to play. Now try again,

She has a choice with me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, she’s the one always in control.

I could wrap myself around her in a warm hug, and it would feel like coming home.

It’s okay if a man looks at you—as a grown woman—and finds you attractive, but it is not okay if that man assumes that gives him the right to make you uncomfortable in any way. Whether it’s by the way he looks at you, speaks to you, or touches you. If you want to walk out of the house in the sexiest thing you own, then that’s your goddamn right because it is your choice to show off your body. Don’t give any man the power to control what you do with it.

The clerk behind the cash register eyes my purchases and then eyes me. She’s an older, shrewd woman with salt and pepper hair, extra sag with her wrinkles and a curious gleam in her eye. She’s definitely the nosy neighbor type, constantly peeking out her window to spy on people. Good thing she isn’t my neighbor. I’d just open my curtains, pull down my panties, spread my legs wide, and give her a show she’d never forget. And I bet she’d never, ever look through my windows again.

She’s kind of right. I’ve never been with a girl. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t.

Those goddamn Long Islands. They’re the fucking devil wrapped in a pretty bow.

Who needs to be alive anyway? Let the wild have the fucking planet back. Nature deserves this planet more than we do anyway.

Or he’s just a dick, and I’m delusional.

He’s like a fucking chihuahua, a small little shit that acts like they have a big bark and tries to lord over everyone bigger than them.

Couldn’t care less if it freaks people out that a six-foot-five man is chilling in a mud bath, I fucking need it.

This tattoo is a reminder that despite my ugly surroundings, I was still worth something. That where I came from doesn’t taint who I am in any way.

Ask for consent, and I shall receive. It’s basic fucking morals.

You shouldn’t be punished for showing the world that you’re beautiful. Those men are wrong for sexualizing a little girl. That’s sick, River. It’s okay if a man looks at you—as a grown woman—and finds you attractive, but it is not okay if that man assumes that gives him the right to make you uncomfortable in any way. Whether it’s by the way he looks at you, speaks to you, or touches you. If you want to walk out of the house in the sexiest thing you own, then that’s your goddamn right because it is your choice to show off your body. Don’t give any man the power to control what you do with it.

Mako squeezes my hand in response. Ryan would’ve been livid. But the good thing about that is Ryan’s dead.

Everyone has demons, and I love Ryan enough to try to help him fight those demons.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

I’m willing to forgive you, River. I know”—he clenches his jaw— “I know another man fucked you. I’m willing to still be with you. But I want an apology.

That’s the person that claimed he was a witness to a Ghost Killer murder. That was Ryan’s client—Benedict fucking Davis. The man who killed my father and who I have been chasing for over a year was right in front of my face. Just like Ryan said.

He scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t date you if you were above a size five.

I don’t know why it took him cheating to wake me up. I don’t know why the physical abuse and rape wasn’t the catalyst. Maybe because I thought the pain is surface level. I can heal. But cheating is deep. It’s a pain that imprints like wolves mating and will last forever. Knowing that I wasn’t good enough to keep him wanting only me. Knowing that every time he leaves my bed, he’s walking into another woman’s legs. And that just won’t fucking do.

You know I love you, right?” he asks. His face has melted into soft lines and sweet nothings. “I do,” I say. I really, really do. And I can’t wait to show you exactly what your love has turned me into.

My best friend is a good six inches shorter than me, so it’s like watching a Leprechaun dance because they found the gold at the end of the rainbow.

This devil of man built me up just to destroy me.

He’s good I’ll give him that. He’s broken you so effortlessly, the pain hasn’t even hit you yet.

His stare rivals a vampire’s when they get that first whiff of fresh blood.

Get used to it, baby. This is your life now.” Well, that sounded fucking ominous.

God, I’m being weird. I turn away quickly. That smile is a fucking weapon capable of complete annihilation on my resolve. I still don’t like him, nor do I want to start.

I'd like to think I'm much more interesting to look at than a dusty shelf.

He has the nerve to look a little sheepish. "I may have utilized my position for nefarious purposes," he admits, flashing me a sinful smile. Fuck. Stop that.

Hesitantly, I sit next to him, as far away from him on the bench as it allows, which is admittedly not very much space when his body takes up three-quarters of it. Fucking mammoth.

Are you going to arrest me for breaking and entering, Detective?" I ask mockingly. "If you end up in my handcuffs, it won't be because I'm arresting you.

So, Mr-I-know-what-a-relationship-should-look-like, if you're so much better than Ryan, why are you single?

Were you in love with any of them?" "Yes and no. I had immense love for them, and what I felt was real, but I don't think I was truly in love with any of them, no. Not the way you should be when in a relationship. Not the way I wanted to be." I frown. "The way you wanted?" I question. "I want a love like my parents. Like my partner's. With my exes, it always felt like something was missing. That's not true love in my eyes.

You shouldn't be punished for showing the world that you're beautiful. Those men are wrong for sexualizing a little girl. That's sick, River. It's okay if a man looks at you—as a grown woman—and finds you attractive, but it is not okay if that man assumes that gives him the right to make you uncomfortable in any way. Whether it's by the way he looks at you, speaks to you, or touches you. If you want to walk out of the house in the sexiest thing you own, then that's your goddamn right because it is your choice to show off your body. Don't give any man the power to control what you do with it." "It's mine," I whisper. "It's yours," he repeats. "No one else's.

But the thought of Mako owning my body... God, I think I'm having a heart attack. It's too sinful.

What if... what if I want a man to own me?" "Then give that privilege to a man who deserves it. If you want a man to own you, then let him. But that's not something he has a right to without your consent." "Do you want to own a woman?" "The only way I want to own a woman is by owning her pleasure. I want her body to sing for me—a tune that only I can hear. I want her body to gravitate towards mine like a moth to a flame. And I want her to grow to dislike the feeling of being so empty when my cock isn't inside of her.

I need a thesaurus. How many words are there for the word surprise? I feel every one of them, like each synonym is a different emotion.

Why does my body melt every time I hear his fucking voice? I don't want my body to melt. I want it to turn solid, unmeltable stone. Hearing his voice feels like injecting heroin. But just because heroin feels good, doesn't mean it's not capable of killing you.

Funny, she said she was good at reading people, but yet she’s gone blind to the devil directly in front of her.

I’ve resorted to fucking stalking. I guess I could say stalking is in the job description too, but River isn’t a criminal—that I know of—and this isn’t a stake-out. There’s no justifying this. Fuck it, it’s for the greater good and all that if I can convince her stubborn ass to see the light.

She emerges from the building wearing black Chucks and cuffed jeans that hug her ass in ways that should be fucking illegal.

She speaks with her head slightly tilted down, looking up at you through angled brows and long lashes, making you feel like she’s looking into you instead of at you.

She’s beautiful. And altogether, utterly, abso-fucking-lutely tempting. Goddamn it. I run a hand over my face, already frustrated with how this is going.

I shouldn’t be looking at her like that—thinking of her in such a way. But the surge of jealousy coating my veins like oil is hard to ignore.

A beautiful girl reduced to a goddamn punching bag by a psychotic piece of shit, what a goddamn shame.

Something in my chest tightens and twists viciously. Something I honestly don’t want to put a fucking name to. I need to get my damn head on straight.

I’ve tried talking to her. She’s… she’s not a very approachable person.” I crack a smile at that. Quite a fucking underwhelming statement if you ask me.

I eat donuts. I’m not a liar like he is.

You can’t walk next to me,” I snap. “Why not?” he asks, though it sounds like he already knows the answer. “Because I don’t like you.

I haven’t even pulled my fist from his face yet, and I already want to do it again.

He’s the dark, rugged type. The type your mom insists is bad for you even though she secretly wants to fuck him.

I’m willing to bet the fake diamond ring on my finger that he has a wicked smirk capable of disintegrating any straight female’s panties off.

River, quit eye fucking the bartender. You’re not even into girls.