The Sweetest Oblivion Quotes

I swear to God, Elena, if I find out you’ve let some man touch you, I will deliver his hands to you in a box.” I swallowed. “And I do not. Fucking. Bluff.

There are three sides to every story. Mine, yours and the truth.” —Joe Massino

I hated when someone told me to smile, as if a smile of mine belonged to them and not to me.

He was comfort, security, and need, all in one. It had a name. Home.

True love stories never have endings.

I said I’ll never hurt you, Elena, but if I find out you’ve touched another man, there is nothing in this world that could save him.

I would make this girl want me, need me, love me, because fuck if I was going it alone.

Why are you staring at me?” One heartbeat. Two. His voice was rough and his gaze was steady when he said, “Maybe I want to.

There’s nowhere you could go that I couldn’t find you.

Without hope, there’s nothing to lose. With it, we’re nothing but dominos waiting to fall.

You can’t blame gravity for falling in love.” —Albert Einstein

I wanted to be the best thing he’d ever had. To make him burn as much as he made me. I wanted him to want only me with a raw ache.

Elena Abelli was my vice, and fuck if I’d let it kill me.

I swallowed. “I don’t want to do this if there are going to be other women, Nico. I can’t.” He watched me for two tense seconds. “You’re enough for me.

I wanted to fuck her and ruin her for anyone else. I wanted to crush her wings and then put them back together again so she’d become dependent on me. I wanted her to need me. That dark, possessive, and dangerous feeling crawled through me every time she crossed my path. Elena Abelli was my vice, and fuck if I’d let it kill me.

You don’t know,” he growled. “I can’t stay away from you for more than a fucking day and you can run off without a second thought.” I shook my head, but his grip slid to my chin and stopped me. “You. Don’t. Know.

For the first time in my life, I felt free to be me. To curse if I wanted, to keep my smiles for who deserved them, to be bad at something, to fall in love. Nico didn’t treat me like glass. He shattered the reflection of an empty life staring back at me. He taught me how to soar.

You can only sink or swim. You can’t swim in the underworld, but I’d always heard drowning was the best way to go.

This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.

You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars. -Gary Allan

Hit a woman in front of me and you won’t be alive to do it again,” Nico growled.

Whiskey and flame. Sleepless nights. Tattooed skin, white t-shirts, and rough hands. Love and lust and happiness. He was everything.

Maybe my roots were too deep, or maybe love gave a woman a reason to let her dark colors shine, because I suddenly knew I would lie, cheat, and steal for this man. I would burn the world for him. He was King of the Cosa Nostra. And he was all mine.

We do not remember days, we remember moments.” —Cesare Pavese

Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” —Marilyn Monroe

What do you mean, like do I carry a membership card that says 'Mafia' on it?

But the truth was, I didn’t think there was another person in this world who could make me feel safer.

I don’t need to keep you a secret, Elena,” he said, going to tend to his pan on the stove. “I just don’t have the patience to listen to what people think I should do with what’s mine.” Mine.

She was mine. And I’d kill anyone who told me otherwise.

Sometimes it felt like you needed to be the worst you could be to survive in this world.

...an irresistible sleep fell deeply on his eyes, the sweetest, soundest oblivion, still as the sleep of death itself...

For thinking I’m a psychopath, you don’t seem to fear being alone with me.” “I can scream. Loudly.” He glanced at me, like my words had an entirely different meaning— like he might like to hear me scream. My breathing became shallow.

A woman is like a tea bag - you can´t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water. -Eleanor Roosevelt

My breathing was erratic as he growled in my ear, “You’re so goddamn hot it pisses me off.” And then he nipped my neck, hard.

I wasn’t usually a betting girl, but I would put all of my papà’s ill-gotten gains on the idea that this man fucked just like he drove. With complete control and confidence.

Burn that shirt.” He then left without another word. I glanced down at my pink Yankees t-shirt. I guessed Nico was a Red Sox fan. We really wouldn’t work out now.

I was a moth moving toward the flame, until I stood close enough for my wings to ignite.

Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.” —John Webster

Every savage can dance.” —Jane Austen

I needed him. More than morality or honesty.

Truthfully, I was pretty sure I was obsessed, and I didn’t give a single fuck about it anymore. I just wanted to keep feeding it. Fucking her, kissing her, eating her out, over and over, until I was dead. The idea that I couldn’t made me feel sick, like I was catching a bad case of the flu or something.

Tell me what to fucking do again.

I only spoke Italian when I wanted to curse. I hardly ever swore, except for damn, hell, and maybe ass with a hole on the end now that I’d met Nicolas.

My heart would never be his. It was the one thing in my life that was mine, and I would never sign it over.

Sometimes the cheapest things are the most valuable.

Tell me,” Sebastian said, “why did you do it?” A heavy silence took over, and my chest tightened at Nico’s cavalier tone. “He had something I wanted.

He talked while he screwed, right against my ear in a deep rasp, and it made me crazy. “You take it so good,” he praised. “So fucking tight.” “So wet for me.

You sound angry, Elena.” Nicolas’s voice was tainted with something dangerous. “Maybe you should cool off.” My brows knitted. “What? No—” I never got to finish what I had to say. Because, with one hand on my side, Nicolas pushed me into the pool.

It was the Russo blood in me. It wanted what it wanted, and fuck everything else.

there was no room for regrets in this world, that a man had to taste the bitter before he could taste the sweet.

His voice was deep, soft, yet laced with frustration that he even had to say it. “I’m not going to hurt you.

He smelled so good. Felt so good. Like comfort, security, and need, all in one. There was a name to it, but I didn’t know what.

He laughed. Softly, darkly. The kind of laugh that has no good intentions.

Screw the parties. Let’s go home. I’ll fuck you nice and slow all night long.

First man I killed, I shoved an ace of spades down his throat.” I swallowed as he took a step back and walked away from me. “Name’s been with me ever since.

When you're groomed and praised for being a certain way your entire childhood, sometimes there's no escape.

Hands grasped my face, turning it. “Are you okay?” Nico repeated.

It was eleven a.m. on a Sunday when I realized I wasn’t only attracted to my fiancé. I was, with a madness that ached, completely and utterly infatuated with him.

Gonna come,” was all he said. My brows pulled together. “That was quick.

His lips pressed against my ear. “You want to know a secret?” I shivered at the deep voice, but I didn’t answer because I was still trying to figure out how to breathe with him inside me. “I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom.” He nuzzled my neck. His voice was warm and smooth, but his teeth were clenched. “And I’m afraid you’ve just created a monster.

I swear to God, Elena, if I find out you’ve let some man touch you, I will deliver his hands to you in a box.

You’re disturbed,” I breathed. “Do that again.

I almost didn't hear him over how shirtless he was.

For the third time—I’m not hungry.” “It’s the depression,” Nonna whispered to my mamma. I exhaled. “I’m not depressed.

You can't swim in the underworld, but I'd always heard drowning was the best way to go

I’d let him inside of me. And now I’d never get him out.

I was so full of him, and with his mouth on mine I felt overwhelmed. Complete. Consumed. And I never wanted to come up for air.

Do you know what assuming gets you?” “Killed?” I breathed. His eyes fell to my lips. “Smart girl.” The words were deep and soft, and a strange part of me felt like I’d done something good.

I loved how big he was and how I always felt small and safe with him. The truth was, I loved everything about him and there was no going back. It was full speed ahead, like a train that couldn’t stop for the girl standing with wide eyes on the tracks.

I wanted to know him, just so I could understand how he would react. At least, that’s what I told myself. I wanted to know what he did last night. What his middle name was. Who he had loved or who he did. I wanted to know everything, and that made my chest ache with the inevitable break.

Have you always been unhinged? Or is your controlling, delusional nature a product of inadequacy?” I said it sweetly. Sweet as poison.

Because you’ll fall in love with her,” she said. “And she won’t love you back.

he pulled out his wallet and tossed a black credit card on the counter—“for all that money you spend.

My family could be as pissed as they wanted, but I’d appreciate at least one fucking thank-you for stopping a bloodbath from ruining a perfectly good Sunday.

My last thought before the final please left my lips and the pressure exploded through my veins like an inferno was: He loves to be begged.

Nico didn’t treat me like glass. He shattered the reflection of an empty life staring back at me. He taught me how to soar.

Climbing back into bed, I lay there and flicked the Zippo open and closed, filling the room with a flame for a man I shouldn’t have. Before I snuffed it out.

glass,

I didn’t know what to do with this woman, but I did know I was keeping her. Every time I saw her, my blood burned hotter, searing the word mine into my chest.

We lay side by side and watched a girl fall in love. One of us already had, and the other knew she never would.

I love you,” I breathed.

Finally, the black-hearted Russo knows what it’s like to be whipped.

Elena, you’ll be the one screaming please.” My God . .

Nicolas’s larger, warmer one. His pulled you in, didn’t send you away. It was infinitely more dangerous.

His rough “Fuck” ran down my spine. He fucked me slowly, in and out, and the pressure built between my legs like too much steam collected in a glass jar.

You gonna stare at my crotch all day or take it out?

I swear to God, Elena, if I find out you’ve let some man touch you, I will deliver his hands to you in a box.” I swallowed. “And I do not. Fucking. Bluff.” He slammed the door behind him.

How fast does this thing go?” I asked. His head tilted to the side, catching my gaze. He held it for a moment before turning back to the road. “Fast.” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to think of how to respond. What I came up with was, “How fast?” He didn’t glance at me, but a small smile appeared. “Show me.” It escaped my lips on a breath, quiet and suggestive.

A wave of shock rolled through me when the pad of his finger traced the hem of my swimsuit bottoms that still bared too much of my ass. My breath stopped when his other hand slid up my side and gripped my waist, beneath my breast.

the heart only took chances the brain would not.

The sweetest thing about oblivion is it cannot be felt.

Like regret, there wasn’t room for hate. Hate changed someone’s make-up. It made them reckless. Hate killed its host. I never let myself hate because I loved to live.

The cashier groped her,” he said indifferently. “So I burned down his place of business . . . and maybe him.

And I love you, Elena Russo.

Smart girl.” The words were deep and soft, and a strange part of me felt like I’d done something good.

I wanted him to disrespect me. Every inch of me. His hands tightened on my waist almost painfully, as if he struggled to keep them there. He nuzzled the back of my head, but his voice was suddenly as cold as ice. “You like it when men disrespect you?

And God, did he ever. His arms wrapped around my thighs, lifting them slightly, and then he licked me all the way from ass to clit. Steam crawled through my blood, lighting me on fire. I gasped, my fingers fisting the sheets. It was so dirty, so wrong, so inappropriate, but God, maybe that’s why it felt so good. A deep sound of satisfaction came from his throat. “You’re disturbed,” I breathed. “Do that again.

His palm ran from my hip to my lower stomach. Heat curled inside me with the smallest amount of pressure from his hand. Each finger burned through the fabric while his lips brushed the nape of my neck. My insides were melting, dissolving into nothing but memory as he softly bit down and then licked the skin. I gripped the edge of the countertop, a moan crawling up my throat.

The moment when you woke up on that couch—before you remembered the phone, remembered your entire life—was one of the sweetest from that year. That tiny pocket of safety and oblivion. Whiskey, breath, bodies. Credits crawling up the dark.

He took a small step forward. As if we were the same poles of a magnet, I took one back. He dropped his hand to his side, the slightest bit of amusement coming to life in his eyes as if I’d just done a trick that entertained him. I suddenly had the distinct feeling I didn’t want to be his entertainment. And an even stronger feeling that I already was.