Quotes About Intimacy

But let's not be casual about this body, okay?" She nuzzled him back. "It may be your soul that I love, but I'm pretty keen on its vessel, too." Her voice had dropped lower as she spoke, and his response was low and husky in kind. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that," he said, and brushed his face past hers to kiss a place beneath her ear, sending instant, electric frissons coursing through her body.

It didn't escape Karou's notice that he found subtle ways of touching her.

He dropped the pretense, and dropped his head, so his brow came to rest against the sun-warmed top of hers. His arms went around her and drew her in, and Karou and Akiva were like two matches struck against each other to flare starlight. With a sigh, she softened, and it was pure homecoming to melt against him and rest.

How do you just thrust "I love you" out into the air? It needs waiting arms to catch it.

I want to touch with my mouth. His mouth, with my mouth. Maybe his neck, too. But first things first: Make him aware I exist. It's possible that he is already aware, if only in a 'don't step on the small girl' kind of way.

As long as you want me with you." "I want me with you," she said at once. She heard the mix-up of her words - me with you - but didn't correct herself. It was exactly what she meant.

As far back as she could remember, a phantom life had mocked her with its impenetrable "something else," but now it was the opposite. Here, in the circle of Akiva's presence, even as they spoke of war and siege and enduring enmity, she felt herself being drawn into the warm absoluteness and rightness of him, like he was both place and person and, contrary to all reason, exactly where she was supposed to be.

Finding Akiva's door still closed, Liraz gave a chuff of derision and didn't knock but only crashed it open and glared at the sight that greeted them. Akiva and Karou, eyes bleary with desire, facing each other on a stone slab and touching, hands to hearts... "Well," Liraz said, her voice as dry as the rest of her was not. "At least you still have your clothes on.

I have not yet elected to bestow the grace of my saliva upon another human being. I have never… kissed anyone.

His arms around her, that's what she wanted, and… she wanted movement that spoke to movement, skin to skin and sweat to heat to breath to gasp.

Your soul sings to mine. My soul is yours, and it always will be, in any world.

And there's no better way to thaw a face, as it turns out, than with another face.

To be one of a pair of bodies that knew that melting fusion. To reach and find. To be and reached for and found. To belong to a mutual certainty. To wake up holding hands.

There is intimacy in pain. Anyone who has comforted a sufferer knows it—the helpless tenderness, the embrace and murmur and slow rocking together as two become one against the enemy, pain

There's a long pause. But it's not a bad pause, because Mik is looking at me like I'm the treasure from the high shelf that someone's just taken down and put into his hands. I find I don't mind being looked at like this. I don't mind it at all.

Around Mik, my powers desert me. I lose basic motor function, like my brain focuses all neural activity on my lips and shifts into kiss preparedness mode way too early, to the detriment of things like speech, and walking.

This new thing between them it was... Astral. It reshaped the air, and it was in her, too—a warming and softening, a pull—and for that moment, her hands in his, Karou felt as powerless as starlight tugged toward the sun in the huge, strange warp of space.

She could smell the boy spice beneath the thrift-store aroma of his jacket, and the rubbing and the smell began to work to soften her -- like butter before you add sugar, in the first steps of making something sweet. It was her first experience of how bodies could meld together, how breath could slip naturally into rhythm. It was hypnotic. Heady. And she wanted more.

Then there were things-- epic, terrible things-- that he didn't tell her but skirted around, like caressing the edges of a wound, hesitant, testing for pain.

A pause came between them, and it was so full of Akiva that Karou imagined she could smell him.

I love you, crossbar,' whispered Karou and petted it.

She hadn't expected to be sorry, and at first she wasn't. The act itself was neither disappointing nor magical; it was what it was: a new closeness. A shared secret.

The eye's perception of texture is pale compared to the lips', and I didn't know what velvety was until I knew it with my lips. Oh, kissing. Oh, violin boy.

Don't look at me like that," said Ruza. "Like what?" "Like I'm a beautiful book you're about to open and plunder with your greedy mad eyes.