Quotes About Intimacy

Annabel stopped rubbing the center of her lower back and ducked her head to hide the blush his words had brought on. It made Ross want to kiss her. Reminded

Do ye often howl at wolves? Only Lovey, Claray answered. He's the only wolf I ken. Ye ken Conall, and he's the Wolf. Aye, Conall agreed aloud, and then leaned down to whisper by her ear, And ye howled for me on our weddin' night. Hopefully this night I can make ye howl again. Finally. Claray stiffened in surprise and then felt heat suffuse her face as his hand crept up her waist where it was resting, and his thumb brushed over the bottom of one breast.

My sweeting is nice, Claray commented. Nay, Conall said quickly, and when she looked at him with surprise, he tried to cover his horror at the thought of being called that, by saying, I'd rather call ye that and we can no' both use it. Oh, she breathed, seeming pleased at the idea of his calling her that. He made a mental note to use it, and to come up with other endearments to please her. Flower, perhaps. Or petal, to reflect how beautiful and precious he found her.

Valerie sat back in her seat and sipped at her wine, doing her best to ignore the way Anders's leg was pressing against her own under the table. He had been touching, brushing up against, or sneaking caresses all night. First under cover of their working together in the kitchen and then under cover of the table as they'd eaten. He was driving her wild.

Bastien noticed that the two women hugged and touched and patted a lot. It was nice in one way, warm and affectionate, but he also felt a pinch of jealousy, wishing he was the recipient of some of those hugs, pats and touches. But Terri had been keeping her distance since Kate and Lucern had arrived. She'd even been avoiding eye contact, and that troubled him. He wanted to put his arm around her and claim her as his own. She didn't seem to feel the same.

Why would I regret bedding a man I have come to love? she asked....

You introduced me to the innkeeper as your wife. Make love to me like a husband would.

Does Roxy sleep with you, or should I take her downstairs?" "Oh, no. She sleeps with me," Valerie said, glancing to Roxy herself. "Lucky dog," he murmured and caught her surprised glance before he stepped out and pulled the door closed.

It's every woman's nightmare. Waking up in a sexy man's bed only to find he doesn't want you? Definitely a nightmare.

Claray had not been made to spend her life on her knees in prayer. The lass had too much passion in her for that. So, he would marry her, reclaim his name, title and home and set to work filling her belly with bairns. The thought made him smile, and imagining all the ways to accomplish the task of filling her belly, all the positions and places he could do so, helped pass the time as they continued their ride through the long day and the evening that followed.

I must exchange whispers with God before shouts with the world.

Love always requires courage and involves risk.

Couples sooner or later always fall out of love, and it is at the moment when the mating instinct has run its course that the opportunity of genuine love begins. It is when the spouses no longer feel like being in each other's company always, when they would rather be elsewhere some of the time, that their love begins to be tested and will be found to be present or absent.

Falling in love is not an extension of one's limits or boundaries; it is a partial and temporary collapse of them.

Amusing a woman too much is as good as courting her, and as much as I enjoyed her company I wasn't quite sure I was ready for more than that.

O gato não nos afaga, afaga-se em nós.

I took her hand, pulled it lightly to me, and kissed her on the forehead, with the delicacy of a zephyr and the gravity of Abraham.

um ódio comum é o que mais liga duas pessoas

Eu gosto de ver impressas as notícias particulares, é bom uso, faz da vida de cada um ocupação de todos. Já as tenho visto assim, e não só impressas, mas até gravadas. Tempo há de vir em que a fotografia entrará no quarto dos moribundos para lhes fixar os últimos instantes; e se ocorrer maior intimidade entrará também.

Estávamos ali com o céu em nós. As mãos, unindo os nervos, faziam das duas criaturas uma só, mas uma só criatura seráfica. Os olhos continuaram a dizer coisas infinitas, as palavras de boca é que nem tentavam sair, tornavam ao coração caladas como vinham... 

Wine, fruit, jams, it is true, but all served with sweet words, tender looks, childish caresses, an infinity of these testimonies from the heart, in fact the true, uninterrupted discourse of love.

Eu gosto de olhos que sorriem, de gestos que se desculpam, de toques que sabem conversar e de silêncios que se declaram.

Se meu marido tivesse em mim uma mulher, e se eu tivesse nele um marido, minha salvação era certa. Mas não era assim. Entramos no nosso lar nupcial como dois viajantes estranhos em uma hospedaria, e aos quais a calamidade do tempo e ahora avançada da noite obrigam a aceitar pousada sob o teto do mesmo aposento. (Confissões de uma viúva moça)

Mas o amor tem o grande inconveniente de não guardar a discrição necessária para que os estranhos não percebam. Quando dois olhares andam a falar entre si todo o mundo fica aniquilado para os olhos que os desferem; parece-lhes que têm o direito e a necessidade de viverem de si e por si.