Quotes About Intimacy

The heat in me was delicious and unendurable, and I wanted nothing more than to take Amadeo, bring him over to me now, and yet he sat before me, the tears streaming down his face.

Yes, go out. Talk to her. This is the closest you'll get to that moment; this is your chance. And how delicious to be so physically drawn to her, so laid bare by her presence. It was as if an invisible hand was unzipping his pants.

I could feel the attention as if it were an embrace.

Sometimes I could scarcely breathe with the knowledge that for the rest of my life, whenever we wanted, Peter and I could lie down and do whatever we wished.

Passing on information to a friend was no breach of promise of secrecy . . . because it was no more than telling it to oneself.

He barely hesitated. Then shall I ruin you, dragon? Yes please, she said. And she let the brown dress drop on the floor between them, closing her eyes once more.

And there was nothing left between them but love, neither pure nor simple, but love it was.

Ben scooped her up in his arms, holding her high against his chest as he carried her back into the cottage, past the shrouded, familiar shapes of the furniture into the night-dark bedroom. They were alone now for the first time. There was no Emmett, no Harris, no lies or masquerade or motives or revenge. There was just Ben and Rachel, together in the darkness.

He was a man who fucked in silence. And when he climaxed, long, hard, endlessly, inside her tight body, he heard his voice in the darkness. Calling her name.

Taka reached over and put his hand on hers as the plane began to climb. She didn't look his way, didn't open her eyes, but her hand turned beneath his and caught his fingers, entwining them with hers. Until they were high in the sky over the Pacific and she fell asleep and her hand loosened in his. And still he held it. Until he, too, fell asleep.

She felt hot, strong, alive against him, and he found he had this crazy urge to move his mouth down to the side of her neck, to press it against her, to taste her skin. He wanted to feel her breasts, wanted to pull her T-shirt up and feel her hot skin against his. Damn, he wanted her.

He kissed the salty tears from her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. And then he kissed her mouth, slowly at first, tasting her pain and despair. Tasting her desire. He didn't know whether he turned her in his arms, or whether she shifted herself. He only knew she was astride him, facing him, her long legs wrapped around his hips, and the kissing had gone long past comfort.

He slid his arm under her waist, hauled her up, and entered her that way, sliding in deep, so deep, and her guttural cry was a heartbreaking pleasure. He couldn't stop. She wouldn't let him. She twisted her head around and kissed him, and he wanted to keep on and on, to fill her mouth, her body, her soul with him. To have her take everything and then want more.

He slid his hands under her butt and she could feel him pressing against her, hot and hard and sleek. And then he thrust inside, deep, fast, burying himself inside her, breaking past whatever trace of innocence she still had remaining.

I want to wake up with you in the morning, I want to fight with you in the afternoon, and I want to make love on any and every available surface in this place. And then I want to do it all over again. Come upstairs with me, Sophie. I'll keep you warm. I'll keep the darkness away.

How could you think I wouldn't know you? he chided softly. I know the way you move, the way you bite your lip when you're nervous, the sound of your laughter, your eyes. I know your hands and your skin, your scent, the way you try to pretend that something doesn't bother you when you're very bothered indeed.

He couldn't have known. The moonlight wasn't enough to illuminate the room, and the tears that spilled silently down her cheeks didn't touch him. But suddenly the kiss softened, the hands gentled on her, the lips coaxed and teased and healed. And without any more thought she was kissing him back, reaching for him with her mouth while her hands were held back, seeking him out with her tongue, calling him to her in the only way she could.

Voglio toccarti, scoprire il tuo corpo, imparare come sei fatto, di cosa hai bisogno. Voglio renderti pazzo di desiderio come lo sono io. Voglio te, tutto quello che puoi darmi, tutto quello che io posso darti, e voglio che questa notte duri per sempre. Sei in grado di darmi tutto questo?

At least it was dark. His eyes drifted down over her body, the ripe curves in the moonlight, and a dreamy expression crossed his face, just before he leaned forward and put his mouth against the side of her neck, tasting her hammering pulse.

He half expected another argument. A struggle of some sort. Again, a surprise. She made that soft, hungry sound that had already emblazoned itself in his senses, she put her hands on his shoulders, and she kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his.

He was trying to rape me. Again that long, assessing, intimate look. I can sympathize with the temptation, he said, half to himself.

When she stopped long enough to think about it she knew the wanting ran through him as deeply as it ran through her.

He was sitting on her thighs, and his silk breeches were cool against her bare skin. His hands slid up her body, her buttocks, up the line of her back, and she arched in pleasure, like a cat, unable to help herself. You like that, do you? he murmured. I thought you might. You're a sensual creature, dear heart, no matter how you try to fight it. You were made for this.

She reached behind her to unfasten her bra, then stopped. "Do you need me to take all my clothes off, or just from the waist down?" "This isn't a visit to the gynecologist, Rachel. Everything must go." His voice was lightly mocking.