Quotes from Charlotte Featherstone

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to live. I hate her, yet I do not think I can exist without her.

I vow I am, and always will be, constant and faithful in my love for you, Anais. Nothing you or anyone else does shall alter these feelings. I am forever loving, forever waiting, forever yearning...forever yours.

Jane, you are my confidante, my helpmate, my friend. My lover. You are everything the word wife means to me. In my heart, we are wed. In my soul, you are mine.

Does he lay with you in the grass? Does he stare up at the stars, speaking of his dreams, wishing he could roll over and kiss you and run his fingers along the breasts that tease him beneath the shirt--the shirt he knows he will carry home with him and smell and, God help him, sleep in, just so that he could be close to you?

I can say that I have fallen deeper in love with you today, knowing the sort of man you are.

His hands may have been the one to heal you, but it will be mine that awaken you.

Why? She asked in a confused whisper. Out of all the women in the world, why did you choose this mortal? Because fate drove me to you.

I do not know what to say, how to tempt you. If you had a price, I would pay it. If you desired particular words, I would say them. I would be anything you want, Jane. Just come back. Please come back. - Matthew in a letter to Jane.

but he was incapable of shame.He had no conscience or soul.No heart, either.That has broken and died years ago.The leftover pieces had petrified in his chest, leaving stone shrapnel in a black, empty place that felt nothing.Just a yawning void of nothing.And he liked it that way...

Pressing his forehead to the cool glass, he held her gaze, her palm, his eyes pleading with her. Don't go. Don't leave me.

The first time I met death, it was at a ball and we danced a waltz.

A friend. A companion. A beautiful, passionate lover to spend the days and nights with. A woman to carry my children, a partner to share the triumphs and failures. A woman I can share my dreams with, and who will share hers with me. A woman who I can comfort and hold in times of need, and who will hold me when I am weak , and sorrowful, and in need of the sort of succor only a wife can give her husband. A woman who I so desperately want to make love to. You, Lucy, you are that woman.

I am forever loving, forever waiting, forever yearning... forever yours.

Slave. Minion. Fiend. The others who have come before me have been called such things, but I prefer to think of myself as a disciple; a devout follower of my voluptuous mistress.

No, by God, you've accused me of coldness, but how can you, when you can feel how hot my body is against yours? You've said I have none of the red-blooded passion of my sex, but you don't know. You," he gasped, pressing against her with a hard thrust of his hips, "you will know it— the depth of my passion. But you will.

I'll come back to you," he whispered, not meaning to say it out loud. "And I will ravish you over breakfast, and I will never leave you alone another night of my life.

I despise the morning... I am a creature of darkness, whose elements is night and shadow.I belong in the dark with the other sinful creatures.

Oh my God! Lindsay cried. I swear I shall practice celibacy every day for the rest of my life! I swear it, Anais.

It's always only ever been you. And it always will be, Beth. You have my heart. My love. And my regret that I am not the man you deserve.

This was the scene she saw in her mind. What he needed--or at least wanted. Submission. Stepping around the chair, she stood before him. Dropping the sheet she had used to wrap around herself, she stood before him, naked, listening to his sharp inhalation of breath. Then, she lay at his feet, just as she saw in his mind. "No," he whispered, but she knew this was what he wanted. Her to come to him willingly. To accept him as he was.

Why?" he screamed, letting the noise bellow out loud and ferocious. "Why can I not have some measure of peace?" he questioned.

Tis not your time, my love," he whispered. "You will not die tonight." "Never," I said to him, "for I have been blessed by Death's Eternal Kiss.

Am I to die?" I asked, and he stopped, raised our joined hands to his mouth and gently kissed my knuckles. "You are, my love, and in your sleep, you will become Death's bride.

I'm a hedonist, and you, Jane, my wife, should know that about me. You've shared my body and bed, you know things about me that no other soul on earth does. Who can I not be a sensualist with than, you, Jane? Who else to act out my wicked fantasies, than the woman who inspires them? There is no shame in fantasies, in pleasure. Who other than us needs to know what we've done, what brings the other pleasure?