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Sierra Simone

American Queen

  • ssheyjalmembuat kutipan10 bulan yang lalu
    I didn’t kiss him because I wanted to hurt you. I kissed him because even though he’s broken my heart twice in ten years, I still think he looks beautiful in the winter moonlight. Because sometimes I think I might literally die from wanting to feel his lips on mine.”
  • Deza Diegomembuat kutipan10 bulan yang lalu
    I will bear, believe in, hope for, and endure Ash’s love until the day I die, even if that means robbing my own soul.

    And it will mean robbing my own soul.

    My only comfort is that I won’t be alone in my suffering.
  • emma hmembuat kutipantahun lalu
    Love is kind.

    Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.
  • b7887439768membuat kutipantahun lalu
    until the ceremony, he wanted this
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    “I don’t care. Anything—I’ll let you do anything to me.”

    “I believe you. That’s why you’re so dangerous.”
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    “Tell me you’re eighteen,” he whispered.

    “I’m not.”

    “Damn you.”

    And then he tilted my face back up to his, and his mouth came down over mine anyway.
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    “You’re trembling. Are you scared of me?”
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    “You’ll cut yourself if you’re not careful,” an unfamiliar voice said from the patio door.
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    I look down at my hand, still held tightly by Embry’s. How did I end up tangled with these two men? The two most powerful men in the free world?
  • amishreyamembuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
    “You don’t?”

    I glance down at my hands. On my right pointer finger, there is the world’s smallest scar—so small it can’t be seen. It can only be discerned in the way it disrupts the looping whorls of my fingerprint, a tiny white notch in a tiny white ridge.

    A needle of a scar, a hot knife of a memory.

    The smell of fire and leather.

    Firm lips on my skin.

    The warm crimson of blood.

    “I don’t,”
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