Quotes About Intimacy

Would you let go? It's indecent, you touching me like this." "In-dee-sent?" "Indecent. Shameful. Would you please let go? It is my foot, you know." "And you are my woman.

Hunter bent his head and pressed his face against her hair. The next instant she felt his lips on her neck. She also felt his hand on her posterior. Frustrated by her high neckline and her full skirts, he made a fist in the calico. "So much wannup. Where are you, Blue Eyes?

You make a smile inside me, that is why I want you. The way a man wants his wife.

You make a smile inside me, that is why I want you. The way a man wants his wife." He ran a hand up her back, kneading her tense muscles. "You will trust this Comanche? As you did when you rode in a great circle back to me? This one last time, you will trust? No hurting

Frustrated by her high neckline and her full skirts, he made a fist in the calico. "So much wannup. Where are you, Blue Eyes?" He started to lift her dress. Loretta reached behind her and caught his hand. "Wha--what're you doin'?" He lifted his head, eyes alight with teasing mischief. "I search for my woman. You are in there.

I would have you beside me," he told her huskily.

The way things were going, if he was to become his woman's friend before he became her lover, they might never move on to the second stage of their relationship.

Studying her small face, Hunter realized two things: he didn't want her to be like anyone else, and, right or wrong, he had to bring this torturous waiting to an end, for both their sakes.

You are my woman. We are one, forever with no horizon.

You belong to me. Forever, for always! Within you is my seed. A Comanche man does not give up his woman.

I'm not your woman yet. Have you no shame? It's broad daylight. People might see." "They will see you are my woman." "They'll see my drawers, that's what they'll see!" He abandoned his hold on her skirt to run his palm up her back. "No bones. That is good." Loretta's face flamed when she realized he was referring to the whale bones of a corset. A decent man didn't mention such things.

Hunter rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He loved the feel of her slender length pressed against him. Running his hands into her hair, he held her face inches above his own so he could search her eyes. It pleased him to see compassion and pity shining there. She was as golden within as she was without.

He ran his palm up the curve of her back and then removed his arm from around her, amused at how swiftly she rolled off him, fussing with her many skirts to be sure her ruffled breeches weren't exposed. Her shyness baffled him. He could remember how her body looked in firelight, her skin as pale as moonbeams, the tips of her breasts the delicate pink of cacti blossoms. How could such loveliness bring shame?

She is my woman. She stays in my lodge.

With the tip of his tongue, he outlined her ear. " Topsannah, tani-har-ro. " The words came out so slurred, she doubted he even knew he was saying them. "Prairie flower," he muttered, "in springtime.

This small woman filled the empty places inside him, made him feel whole again.

My heart is filled with great love for you," he whispered.

It is enough that you will lie beside me. That I can put my hand upon you." Her expression went from wary distrust to incredulity. "And do nothing?" Hunter shared her sentiments. It was the most boisa idea he had ever come up with.

Look into my eyes. Do you see a new morning with new beginnings?" He searched her gaze, and then, in a husky voice that reached way down inside her, he whispered, "Yes." He drew out the word until it seemed to echo and reecho in her mind.

He wasn't sure when it had happened or how, but the small woman beside him was no longer his captive; he had become hers.

He stretched out an arm and watched the myriad emotions that crossed her face as she contemplated the spot beside him. She had slept beside him before, many times, but tonight was different. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he wanted. She had even bargained away her right to fight him. What she didn't seem to realize was that there had never been anything to stop him.

In one liquid movement he rose on an elbow above her, his broad chest a canopy of bronze, his shoulders eclipsing the light so only her face was illuminated. "You have stolen my heart.

Hunter studied her features, once so repulsive to him, now so cherished. He ran a finger up the fragile bridge of her nose, then traced the line of her brow, acutely conscious of the small bones that shaped her face. Protectiveness welled within him.

You have stolen my heart.