Quotes About Intimacy

Another charming scene is of a lovely lady, with fine features and hair falling long over her forehead, who receives a letter in a dark room and is so anxious to open it that she doesn't take the time to light a lamp, but instead picks up a glowing coal from the brazier with the fire tongs and sits straining to make out the words by its light.

How could she have imagined he wasn't the one? The one she hid from and looked for. The one who held her and heard her and made her more alive, more in love, than she'd realized. The one who taught her how to trust in and lean on and sink into another person. The one who argued and angered, who stood firm and held tight, who kissed her and touched her and made her see the stars. Adam Grayson was the man she could depend on, could trust. Could love.

They're building an asset that has nothing to do with brand and everything to do with their relationship with you.

Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow as seek to quench the fire of love with words.

would you dare to love me?

Lia whispered, I don't snore. And the thief angled his gaze warm to hers, offering his lazy smile. Aye, love, but if you did, I'd still treasure every one.

Something inside his chest unlocked--wildly, slowly, a peculiar sort of melting. He was lost. He was the thorn and the thistle, blown upon her breeze. He felt, strangely enough, staring into her yes, like he was going to weep.

I lay in my bed and tried not to miss him, to miss the entire experience of him. I wanted to feel the shape of him beside me. I wanted him to touch my hair. To kiss me, long and velvety slow.

I would not attempt to guess at the nature of true love, except to say that when I was immersed in it—swimming through it, breathing it in, holding that breath, exhaling—in those short, extraordinary days and nights I shared with your father, true love was absolutely clear to me. Jack was clear to me. Jack was me, and I was him, and you, sweet child, are now us both.

There are certain people in this world who have the ability to make you feel as if you're the only person in the universe who matters to them. Whether it's moment by moment or enough years to count up to a lifetime, they look you in the eyes and smile at you, direct and sincere—and you're smitten.

I want you in the sky, and against the earth. I want to kiss you again, I want to touch you, I want to feel you in my arms and I want to hear you gasping my name when I'm inside you. I want all that, and I want it badly. Every time I look at you, I want it. -Kit to Rue

He loosened the breeches then tugged them down over his hips. Her eyes widened slightly, and she let out a shaky breath. "Should I put them back on?" "No." She sat. "I suppose I'm not used to seeing a man. You're larger than I expected." "Since I'm being compared to a five-year-old, I won't let your observations go to my head.

He felt her hands reach for his mask, untying it and removing it. He let her but stiffened when she ran a hand over his scarred cheek. "Did I hurt you?" "No. But you needn't touch me there." "I want to touch you everywhere." He stilled, allowing her to caress his scar then place a soft kiss on it. He had the sense that she cherished him, every part of him, even the damaged, scarred parts he didn't want anyone to see.

Unclenching her hands, she wrapped them around his bare back, pulling his chest against hers. "I love you, Ewan Mostyn." He shifted to look down at her, and the movement made her grimace with pain. "I have to say I don't know why anyone should want to couple like this. Are you certain we are doing it properly?" He chuckled, a sound she had rarely heard from him. "It will be better for you next time.

We're lost in each other, in the heart of Toronto, slow dancing to nothing but the beat of my heart and the sound of her breath on my neck. I know the subway trains are trembling beneath my feet and that we're amidst the constant buzz of city life, yet I hear nothing but my heart beating and feel nothing but her breath on my neck.

Lovers do things together! They rent videos, they ride Ferris wheels, they go out for pizza, they play Scrabble. They . . . they talk!' 'Talk?' He lifted his head and frowned, his eyes puzzled. 'We talk all the time, Raine. I've never had such talkative sex.' 'That's just it!' She wiggled, flailed, but couldn't budge him. 'Two minutes alone with you, and I'm flat on my back. Every single time!' A slow, knowing grin spread over his face. 'Is this your way of telling me you want to be on top?

Your luck is about to change, Abby.' His voice was low and velvety. 'I know a lot about you. I know how to get into your apartment. How to turn your cat into a noodle. The magnets on your fridge, the view from your window. Your perfume. I could find you blindfolded in a room full of strangers.' His fingers penetrated the veil of her hair, his forefinger stroking the back of her neck with controlled gentleness. 'And I learn fast. Give me ten minutes, and I'd know lots more.

You saved me, you moron! she yelled. You're being deliberately stupid and dense about this! My God, you ask a lot of yourself! He touched his forehead to hers. I can't help it, he blurted. I love you.

This ain't our marriage bed, but it'll do.

As they lay entwined together afterwards, they both were sure their future was blessed, and it would never have occurred to them that Henry and Eleanor had once believed that, too.

I love the smell of my mother's hair after she washes it. I love the feel of the scratchy stubble on my father's face before he shaves. But I've never been able to tell them.

Maybe in order to understand sex fully/one has to risk being destroyed by it.

A family is a mystery.

sometimes I can feel it, the way we are pouring slowly toward a curve and around it through something dark and soft, and we are bound to each other.