Sj Tilly Quotes

To all my ladies who see those walking Red Flags as a pretty shade of pink… repeat after me, only when the men are fictional.

King might have his flaws, but pussy eating skills aren’t one of them.

You know,” he says, when he sees where I’m looking. “Cinderella only left one shoe behind.” I fight my embarrassment by rolling my eyes. “Yeah, and Prince Charming didn’t break into her home to find her.” Nero grins. “The villains always have more fun.

If I decide I’m too good for Taco Bell, put a bullet in my brain and end my misery.

I’ve never punched a geriatric, but I’m not strictly against it.

A man with a basement full of guns and camera angles of my house, who also keeps body bags in his truck, has to be a red flag. Right?

if he’s gonna be obsessed with me, he’d better be obsessed with only me.

But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull. Understand? Him calling me his wife shouldn’t mean anything. And him threatening to blind a man, painfully, shouldn’t be endearing.

Because I want to know that there’s someone – anyone – that might love me the way I want to be loved.

And it’s okay to daydream about a different life, so long as you’re still giving yourself credit for what you’ve accomplished on your own.

Her thick, jiggly thighs that I want to take a fucking nap on.

This book is dedicated to Nero, the beautiful bastard who started it all. I love your unhinged ass. - This battle belongs to all of us. Because we’re all human. And that makes it ours.

You’re crazy,” I breathe. His hands dart out, gripping my ankles, and he yanks me down the bed. Again. Nero bends over me, putting our faces an inch apart. “For you, I’m fucking certifiable.

I need to get away from civilization before I punch someone in the throat.

Val, trust me, we get it. Good dick is hard to come by.

Keep teasin’ me, see where it gets you.” Pretty please, let it be pinned to his bed.

The hard lessons are the ones you usually heed more.

I’m not a kid, but when I get yelled at like this, it makes me feel like one. Like another powerless victim. Again.

Relatives are the people we’re born with. Family are the people we chose to keep around.

He was the family I’ve always wanted.

I wanted to fucking keep you, Butterfly, from the moment I met you.

All her. All my Cassandra. Spread out like a fucking centerfold. For someone else. My vision tints an ugly shade of green, and I storm out of my house, book in hand.

Who are you?” Aspen is the first to speak, and her tone is definitely interested. King points a finger at his sister. “No.

do things with purpose, you have nothing to apologize for.

You make me feel like a whole person. Like someone worthy of love. You make me a better man. Like I could take on the world and win.

Oh Maddie, you shouldn’t have worn my sweatshirt.

Something about this man tells me he doesn’t write his name on his luggage. He probably just narrows his eyes at his suitcase, daring it to get lost.

Valentine, you’re my wife. I’ll give you whatever the fuck I want.

I’m feeling possessive, protective, and guilty. Possessive of her. Protective of her feelings. Guilty about how we met.

Yeah, Valentine. And when you do things with purpose, you have nothing to apologize for.

He smirks. “You’re getting it now, Mama.” Mama. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I’ve done bad things, Valentine.” I brush my lips over her pinkened cheek. “But I’ll always be good to you.

With one final sigh, he stretches his arm out in my direction. “Come fucking cuddle with me.

I’m not staying,” he mutters it this time. He sounds so resigned, even as he does the opposite of what he just said, and I almost laugh. Nero drops onto his back, shifting the pillow, lifting his head and smacking it back down against the lumpy cotton, trying to get comfortable. With one final sigh, he stretches his arm out in my direction. “Come fucking cuddle with me.

Who’s that?” Nero asks as he tries to slip his hand into my pocket to grab my brass knuckles. I knock his hand away. “Rob, my second. Now quit trying to grab my nuts.” King gives us a look.

This man has never said so much as a sentence to me before today. He’s a complete stranger to me. But if he pulled that thick dick out of his jeans right now, I’d let him fuck me raw atop this couch.

And that’s my fault for not telling you.” My hands clutch at his bare sides. “Tell me what?” My throat is tight. Emotion filling my veins. And then he says it. “I should’ve told you how much I love you.

N’s words suddenly sound louder. “Do you, King Bartholomew Vass, agree to take Savannah Jane Oates as your reluctant wife? In sickness and in health. In rich and richer times. Do you promise to be a faithful captor for as long as you both shall live?

My girl is here. I close the distance between us. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the front of her throat and hold her in place. “Hi, Bunny.” Her throat moves with a swallow against my palm. “Hi —” My lips find hers. I can’t wait another moment.

And inking the last words of my vow to you above my fucking dick.” I reach down and cup my hand over the front of my pants. “That’s all for you, Angel. So when you’re ready to wrap those lips around my cock and take me into your throat, you’ll be eye level with my promise to you. Even on your knees, I’ll still be yours.

Gee, my apologies for being a bad captive,” I snap. “If I’d have known––” The rest of my words go unheard as King presses a button on his steering wheel, and the car is suddenly filled with loud rock music. “Great. Fine,” I mutter to myself, crossing my arms and turning my head away from him. “Perfect victim coming right up.

Mr. Wilder! What a pleasure to see you, my boy!” Hmm, not the server. His hair is jet black, and he has a perfect Mario mustache. Exactly like that Nintendo character.  “Hi, Mario.” Shut the front door. That is not his name! “I’d like you to meet Katelyn.” Jackson gestures to me. “This is her first time visiting your fine restaurant.

Standing before me is a lush-as-fuck angel with evergreen eyes, berry-red lips, and a body I’d write to Santa for.

I’m not a good man, Payton. Don’t ever forget that. I’m trying to keep my distance for you. Because I don’t want to be the one to ruin you.

Savannah’s hands, which had been fidgeting in her lap, get shoved back between her thighs. Her thick, jiggly thighs that I want to take a fucking nap on.

I won’t force myself inside you, Savannah Baby. But I am dying to come all over those pretty tits, so don’t fucking tempt me.

He tastes like candy. Like sugar and fruit and childhood memories.

Umm, Nero?” I hold the door open and guide Payton though, with a hand on her back. “Yeah?” “How’d you get a key to my building?” My eyes drop to the key I just used. Oh. Right.

And I can see the home screen. And the photo saved as the background is… me. Asleep in his bed.

It doesn’t matter if he’s sex incarnate. Never again.

I’m never letting you go, Hannah Bunny.” He presses another soft kiss against me. “I hope you understand. I’m never letting you go.

She had the same hair color as me. And wore it the same length. So it stays. It will always stay. Because she’s the reason I am what I am.

My Sweet Girl.

All I have to offer is my love. But I’ll give you every last bit of it. Every inch of my heart. All the best parts of me.

Because all that jiggling, that’s what I fucking crave, Baby Doll. If you’re not bouncing around, I’m not doing it right.

How often do you find yourself needing to blow up your own shit?

Something warm wraps around my heart. Hans will always love me.

I don’t regret knowing him. Something sharp bites into my neck. I’ll never regret loving him.

My friends get nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. And I get Banshee. #NotFair

She’s so fucking thick. And soft. And beautiful. And the spark behind her eyes is so trusting and healthy and…

And then she repeated it back. Just as simple. Just once. Hans. And I haven’t fucked anyone since.

Because I’ve always wanted to call someone Baby. Because your pretty eyes call to something inside me. Because you fucking belong to me, and I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.

Christ, Hans. You can’t just Goldilocks this girl and expect a happily ever after.

Son of a bitch.” The chest under my face shakes with a chuckle. “Don’t get mad at me. I’m not the one who broke down your well-constructed partition.

I’m so fucked.

Are you obsessed with me?

He greeted me this morning by calling me ma’am. Wtf. Vincent just grinned. Idiots. All of them.

He narrows his eyes. “Keep teasin’ me, see where it gets you.” Pretty please, let it be pinned to his bed.

Her shoulders rise with one final deep breath, then she turns away and walks out of view. Leaving the door open… for me.

I’ve never seen a cock in person before. I shuffle backwards on the bed. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should lose it to an average guy. A smaller guy. Because surely that’s not normal.

On one side of the room, the gray couch faces a subpar TV mounted above a fireplace she never turns on because someone—me—keeps disabling the gas line because someone—her—has left it on unattended one too many times. She’s thankfully given up on calling out the repair man, because I don’t want to feel bad about her spending money on repairs when I’m only going to fuck it up again.

I’d scold my traitorous vagina for getting so wet for this lunatic, but when his lips seal around my clit, and one of his big fingers shoves into my entrance, I praise her for being so prepared.

So yeah, when you take an odd personality, sprinkle it with anxiety, wrap it in a shy exterior, and tape it all together with body image insecurity, the package presented to the world is Boring Nora.

Snatching it off the counter, Zach looks at the screen. “Has this been on the whole time? Did we just have sex to the Backstreet Boys?” “ 'Fraid so,” I laugh, taking my phone back and pausing the music.

The curvy little vixen who just turned thirty, twelve days ago—making her nine years my junior and too young for me—and has been doing her best to kill me with food poisoning through her little deliveries.

Maddison Faye Richards, you can come with me willingly or I can haul you out of here like the brat you are.” His fingers snag a lock of loose hair, letting the curl twist around his finger before he gives it a gentle tug.

I don’t know how to handle this, the hot and cold, the rough and sweet, with him. But a part of me knows that I’m just broken enough to accept it. To take what he’s willing to give, because what he gives feels so damn close to love.

I’m not cooking for you.” The man rolls his eyes at me. “I have a cook. And pretty sure I’m smart enough not to eat anything you make me.” He takes a step back, Duke moving with his steps. “The vows only covered slit throats. Not poisoning.

I need a taste of you, Angel. A taste of whatever you’ll give me.” My eyes immediately jump to the abstract drawing of a pair of boobs on the wall. Dom groans. “Fuck, Valentine, I’d kill for just a kiss. But I’ll taste those too if you let me.

I drove Mama home and she talked about my girl the whole time. She had only good things to say, and I’m a little scared about what Mama’ll do to me if I fuck this up. If I do fuck it up, I’ll deserve whatever sort of punishment she sends my way.

Jesus, Baby. You’re so fucking slick.” His fingers brush back then forth before he plunges one inside me. “So fucking ready for me.” I moan at the intrusion. “One fuck and you’re already horny for more. Turned you into the perfect little slut, didn’t I?

Do you still trust me?” I have no right asking her this after what she just watched, but I ask it all the same. She nods, her head only moving the smallest bit. “I do.” A flash of her in white fills my mind. Soon, I’ll have her saying I do in another way.

A hot as hell man walks in through my second story balcony. Strolls through my apartment with a confidence I can only dream of having. Flashes me a glimpse of his gun. Then settles in to eat my popcorn. And… is he humming? Sweet Mother Mary, he’s humming.

Stop,” Nero snaps, and I do. I swear my eyes widen comically when he yanks the blankets back and climbs into bed next to me. “What, um…” I trail off. “I’m not staying,” he mutters it this time. He sounds so resigned, even as he does the opposite of what he just said, and I almost laugh. Nero drops onto his back, shifting the pillow, lifting his head and smacking it back down against the lumpy cotton, trying to get comfortable. With one final sigh, he stretches his arm out in my direction. “Come fucking cuddle with me.

What’s his name?” His voice is still quiet, but it’s also different. A little menacing. “Wh-whose name?” His head tilts, and it reminds me of the nature channel when they show a wild animal stalking its prey. “The man who laid his hands on you. Tell me his name.

Please stop pushing me away. It’s okay if you don’t love me yet. Just don’t—” King closes the distance, his big palms cupping my face. “There is no yet, Savannah Baby.” His thumbs brush across my cheeks. “Please stop crying. I love you too fucking much to watch you cry.

Maybe I didn’t make myself clear when I tattooed your name across my fucking throat. This”—I tap the letters—“is so everyone knows who I belong to.” I’ve never given someone this sort of claim over me, and it feels fantastic. “And inking the last words of my vow to you above my fucking dick.” I reach down and cup my hand over the front of my pants. “That’s all for you, Angel. So when you’re ready to wrap those lips around my cock and take me into your throat, you’ll be eye level with my promise to you. Even on your knees, I’ll still be yours.

I thought you liked when… I called you something else.” His eyes darken and I know he knows what I’m talking about. Axel’s fingers dig into the flesh at the top of my ass, pulling me closer. His voice quiet enough so only I can hear. “You can call me Darling in public, but it’s Daddy in the bedroom.

We know he’s somehow related to the Mazzanti family. We know he’s been silently running things for 20 years, but he’s buried so deep that there’s not a single picture of this mystery man online. And we know that people have referred to him as Mr. Sin for the past several years. To say that we’re going into this unprepared is an understatement.

How can something so new, someone so new, make me feel so much. So much hurt.

I’m not sure what’s worse, fighting an erection on a date, or fighting an erection from listening to an old lady read from a book.

Sugar, would you like to see my room?” I nod. “Good girl.

I’ll be left picking up the pieces of my depressed turtledove-infested heart.

They're like a fine wine: better with time. Me? I'm like an open bottle of wine. I get bitter and turn to vinegar when left untouched.

Tell me you won’t do that again. You won’t make me worry like that.” She nods, “I won’t worry you, again.” “Tell me you’ll be a good girl.” “I’ll be a good girl for Daddy. I promise.” “Fuck.

Because she just passed out. Cradling my nut sack.

Want to know why I call you Little Bird?” John’s question is not at all what I expected. I look up at him and nod. “When I first saw you, there was something in your eyes. A wild look, like a Little Bird locked in a cage, dying to break free. Only you’re not a songbird. You’re not something fragile that needs protection from the world. You’re something different. An eagle, a hawk, a bird of prey with sharp talons. A pretty creature, able to defend herself.” He traces a finger up my arm. “You don’t need me to protect you. But I’ll do it anyways.

Did I just help kidnap myself?

I’m all for equality, but until the glass ceiling breaks and women make the same as men, dollar for dollar, I’ll be the one buying.

It’s sweet.” He places the drink back in front of me. “I didn’t think it’d be my thing, but…” “But?” I prompt when he doesn’t finish. “But now that I’ve tasted it, I think I might need more.