Quotes About Intimacy

Now how am I supposed to kiss you?" He put himself out there. If she smacked him down, so be it. Instead, the corner of her mouth turned up. "I can be kissed in other places.

She stripped out of her bra first, then her panties. "Happy?" "I could be happier.

You can't see it, but you gave me a raging hard-on." "One-track mind." "It's a good track.

She sashayed into the kitchen like she lived there, and grabbed two glasses from the counter, rinsed them in the sink, all very domestic. His eyes strayed to her breasts. "You came to do dishes?" "I came to come." She winked, smiling from ear to ear. "Gotta appreciate a straight-talking woman.

Quickly, Ian learned the danger of holding her. Once he allowed his arm around her, letting her go was nearly impossible.

As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed. But when Daniela came in, she wasn't wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she'd been painted with diamonds. "Christ," he breathed.

She growled. He gave her a considering look. "That's almost sexy.

I thought he might kiss me as we sat shivering on the bank of the spring with our clothes soaked through and our feet dangling in the steaming water. We looked into each other's eyes the way I'd always imagined people did right before they leaned in closer and touched lips for the first time. But that was all we did. We looked at each other. Into each other. We were still clutching hands.

He was looking at me, and I wondered whether he could feel how much I wanted to touch him.

Incidentally, if you have never stalked someone close to you, I highly recommend it. Check out how it tranforms them. How other they become, and how infinitely necessary and justified the stalking becomes when you realize how little you know about them, how mysterious every aspect of them seems with an at a distance but close examiniation.

I'm going to kiss you . . . everywhere. I'm going to kiss you until you swoon with pleasure, until you melt like sugar beneath my lips, until you cry out my name in the throes of passion. I am in love with you, Pirate Queen, whether or not you believe in the notion.

They sat together for a long moment; then, eventually, he let his leg swing over and purposely bump hers. She looked up at him, and found him smiling down at her, his eyes full of teading confidence, and in that moment she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, anything, in the entire span of her life.

His gaze was darkening now with something deep and gentle, and Juliet knew, as women throughout time have always known, that he was in love with her. The knowledge both thrilled and scared her.

He knelt down before her, and put his fingertips beneath her chin, lifting her head so that she had no choice but to look up at him. "I love you, Maeve," he murmured. "Nothing can change that. I love you, and I would like you to be my wife.

Come, now, dear lady." His hand, a broad, and callused hand—a man's hand—slid over her silky sheets in a way that was calculated to suggest that same masterful hand roving over her equally silky flesh. He gave a slow, heated grin that sent the temperature of her blood soaring to new heights. "Don't make me come over there and get you . . .

Wipe the scowl off yer face, Sunshine," he said. "It's unbecoming." "You took a liberty with me." "You all but asked me to." "You were… vulgar." "What, by showing ye the effect ye have on me? By forcing ye to listen to yer own body?" He gave a little laugh. "' Twas only a kiss. Not like I stole yer virtue or anythin'." He deposited

After making love to Juliet well into the wee hours, it was no wonder that Gareth's eyes felt like lead when he opened them the following morning. Even so, as he gazed lovingly at his sleeping wife, he wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms, bury his face in her silky, unbound hair, and cuddle away the morning. The afternoon. The whole day. If

There was only one person whose company Charles welcomed, and that, much to her sisters' confusion and wrath, was Amy, with whom he stayed up long after the others went to bed, quietly talking. A

That which I wish to tell you, Damon . . . is that I love you." He drew her to him, unable to contain himself any longer. "I love you too, Gwyneth. God help me, I do." He felt her arms go around him, pulling him up and into her embrace, and as he leaned his forehead against her shoulder and the great, hitching sobs claimed him, the light shone upon him at last.

And sometime during that long hour that he held her, Lord Gareth de Montforte ceased being the man she'd married and became her best friend.

He stared down at her, slowly shaking his head. "How can any man look upon you and not want to possess you, wholly and fully?" "You're looking upon me," she said softly, invitingly, "and I have yet to see you begin the process of possessing me wholly and fully." Lowering his head until his forehead touched hers, he gazed deeply into her eyes. "I know I've been a brute in the past, but I swear to you, Gwyneth, I shall be as gentle, as considerate as you deserve to have me be.

And Amy, smiling up at him, felt everything inside of her begin to melt as she gazed up into that clear, quietly observing stare. He had the warmest eyes. The warmest smile. The warmest hands. And, toward everyone but himself, the very warmest heart. The Beloved One, indeed. The power of her love for him nearly brought her to tears. She

He imagined her impressed by his maturity, by his willingness to share her with another man. But this formulation was partial. It did not take into account the fact that she'd loved him, or that he'd broken her heart. It did not consider that her heart might be broken still, or that every time they slept together, it broke a little more.

You can never really trust someone who remembers every embarrassing detail of your adolescence.