Quotes About Intimacy

You look like you need to be kissed. Badly." "Worse than you know. How could you tell?" "'Cause you're staring at my mouth with laser-like focus." "Cocky.

He pinned her against the chaise, tonguing her mouth with such sensuous rawness, it was like he was inside of her—and it was so achingly good that she forgot where she was, hiking her leg up around his waist, the hem of

Cum-hazy after a drowsy fuck,

He buried his tongue inside her, massaging her clit with his thumb—and that's when Jenna began to fall apart, shuddering uncontrollably, moaning his name. Only then did he cover her with his strong body, kiss her devouringly, and sink inside her. Eric knew she wanted it fast, but he fucked her slow—as slow and deep as he was kissing her—and his measured intensity knocked Jenna into a thundering

white-hot orgasm that seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. In that moment, the only sensation she felt, the only thought in her brain, the source of all the pleasure in the world, was Eric.

Jenna Jones hates me because she wants me and it freaks her out, he thought to himself. He had to show her he was trustworthy.

in vain forever to find what we've got. I don't know shit about anything, Jenna, and I might be inexperienced, but I know you'll never love anyone like you love me.

Intimacy, with its accompanying feelings of vulnerability and dependence, brought up every insecurity, unresolved wound, and frantic hope I had stored in me. All chickens came home to roost.

The effects of being traumatized in childhood don't tend to disappear on their own; they tend to reemerge later in some form of overreaction, compulsive behavior, learning difficulty, intimacy issues, addictions, or process addictions

Dear Trixie, Will you come to Memphis with me? A) Yes B) No C) I'd go anywhere with you because you fuck like a goddamn fire hose. D) You're an asshole and I never want to see you again. Circle ONLY ONE and give it back to me when you're done eating. Love, J

I feel like we grew in the same womb or something. Like we've been connected from the beginning by blood and veins. Siamese soul lovers, if there could ever be such a thing.

Kat and I talked about Jacob in our own private code. "Are you baking cookies yet?" she said. That was standard for : have you fucked? "Oh yeah. We've made a couple dozen by now." "What kind?" In other words, was Jacob any good. "Chocolate-chip," I said. "And he not only likes to bake them, he likes to eat them, too." "Congratulations.

This is what it means to be in the middle of love, I thought. Being in the middle of love is like being in the middle of a war zone.

We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds

I love you. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. Siamese twin lovers, identical wombs, whatever the hell you called it. All I want in life is to drive out of this horrible, soul-destroying state with you someday.

I could actually see LOVE—not words, not an emotion, not an abstract concept or a subjective state of mind, but a living, breathing thing.

Eliza, my pancreas.

Sometimes I would open my eyes when we were kissing, I would watch him and I could see it. I could actually see LOVE- not an emotion, not an abstract concept or a subjective state of mind, but a living, breathing thing. I'd known for a long time that LOVE had a sound, but after Adam left, I wasn't sure it had a face and body too.

I told her she was brave and she said, "I'm not brave, I'm in love." Ha. Same goddamn thing.

Trying to describe how I felt watching her dance around and sing would be like trying to build a skyscraper with my bare bands. It made me want to marry her. Made me want to buy her a magic airplane and fly her away to a place where nothing bad could ever happen. Made me want to pour rubber cement all over my chest and then lay down on top of her so that we'd be stuck together, and so it would hurt like ell if we eer tried to tear ourselves apart.

I have dinner with you at least three times a week. You think now that you've licked ice cream from my belly button that's going to stop?

Lying next to Eliza, I had the feeling I'd just found something I didn't even know I'd lost. We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds, until I said: "Don't swear off all fruit just because you ate one bad apple.

trying to describe how I felt watching her dance around and sing would be like trying to build a skyscraper with my bare hands. It made me want to marry her. Made me want to buy her a magic airplane and fly her away to a place where nothing bad could ever happen. Made me want to pour rubber cement all over my chest and then lay down on top of her so that we'd be stuck together, and so it would hurt like hell if we ever tried to tear ourselves apart.

it. I likened it to the intimate version of Doug's Tell me what you listen to and I'll tell you what you are theory. This was: Tell me who you fuck and I'll tell you what you are. Spiritual duplicity. "Choice betrays character," I said. "That's not true.