Quotes About Intimacy

There was so much I didn't know about the ways between a man and woman. But I knew I wanted him. And I knew he wanted me.

His voice was warm and slow and reminded me of the gentle rumble of a distant summer storm--so inviting at a distance. And those eyes again, the ones that made me feel naked, like he saw beneath my skin. I knew I couldn't sit down and tell him my worries, but his steadfast gaze made me want to.

I think I don't care anymore, as long as you're in my arms.

Last time we danced we were knee deep in grass," I said. "And now there's not even a chain between us," Jase whispered. "Maybe we don't need one anymore.

Love didn't even seem like the right word to explain how I felt about her. The word seemed too small, too used, too simple,

He rolled up on one elbow, looking down at me, the stars dusting his cheekbones. "Honey?" He kissed my forehead. "Spring?" He kissed my chin. "You are a good bit of trouble, Kazi of Brightmist." "I try my best.

Yes, I want to kiss you, Jase Ballenger. Not for show or to make the best of it. I want to kiss you because I want you, every part of you, even the parts that infuriate me beyond telling, because you've infected me with a poison that I don't want to flush out, because you're a mad viper twisting around my middle, cutting off my breath, yet I want you more than I want to breathe. Yes, Jase, I want to kiss you, just because I do, but the one thing I cannot do is promise you any tomorrows. -Kazi

Love didn't even seem like the right word to explain how I felt about her. The word seemed too small, too used, too simple, and everything I felt about her seemed complicated and rare as wide as the world.

We held hands. We crossed a line. We made one another braver.

I want to pull you close and never let you go," he whispered (pg 234)

I wondered what it would be like to have someone who knew me so well, someone who would look right into my soul, someone whose very touch sent all other thoughts from my mind. I tried to imagine someone who hungered for the same things I did and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, and not because it fulfilled a loveless agreement on paper.

The spoon tumbled from my hand, and I fell down onto his chest, holding him, my face pressed into his neck. His arms circled around me, holding me as tight as I held him.

Right now my only plan is to kiss my wife. And I am fairly certain not even the gods can derail that.

The question of whether it was a show was swept aside, forgotten. There may have been other secrets between us, but this much was true and honest-- I wanted to be in his arms, and he wanted to be in mine.

Is it asking too much to want to be loved? To look into someone's eyes and see—" Her voice cracked, and there was more silence. "And see tenderness. To know that he truly wants to be with you and share his life with you.

It was our story. It didn't have to have a happy beginning or a happy ending, but the middle was a feast at a banquet, a rich, soapy bath, a night's rest at an inn and a full stomach, a warm chest nestled up against my back, the soft heat of lips at my nape, stories whispered in my ear.

A real kiss," he said. "That's what I needed, just one more time.

Ever since that first day I met you, I've gone to sleep ever single night thinking about you.

I want to pull you close and never let you go.

I want to pull you close and never let you go," he whispered. (pg 224)

I grip his wrists and lift onto my toes, forever trying to get through the barriers of skin and bones and gravity and relativity, hoping to find answers by crawling inside of him and mending our everythings. Teller pushes back until I'm against the wall once more and all it would take is the tilt of my head for our lips to touch.

There are some people who become best friends with everyone they photograph. There are people that I really like and admire and respect, but in a way I think it's better to keep a distance. I think you get better pictures of people that you don't know very well.

When he held her that way, she felt so happy that it disturbed her. After he left, it would take her hours to fall asleep, and then when she woke up she would feel another onrush of agitated happiness, which was a lot like panic. She wished she could grab the happiness and mash it into a ball and hoard it and gloat over it, but she couldn't. It just ran around all over the place, disrupting everything.

He realized what had been disturbing him about her. With other women whom he had been with in similar situations, he had experienced a relaxing sense of emptiness within them that had made it easy for him to get inside them and, once there, smear himself all over their innermost territory until it was no longer theirs but his.