Quotes About Intimacy

The kiss was long and soft, fever-hot and gentle, although holding Perceval in her arms was not unlike embracing a rope ladder. Her lips were soft and cracked over the firmness of her teeth, and it seemed Rien expanded on her breath like a blown balloon.

Kit stepped close enough for Oxford to feel the heat of his breath, Will imagined, the naked blade angled between them as if laid down the center of a bed.

For a moment, they sat together, the understanding between them almost big enough to fill that space.

This is as close to an act of love as thou wilt ever taste.

He knew every inch of the thing's surface by now, had bloodied his fingertips with worrying at it, with picking at the spikes of the mouthpiece and exploring the curve and cheeks. It weighed as much as a small child in his arms, resting against his knees, and holding it close to his breast was the only thing that silenced the savage pain in his brands any more.

Through the resistance of their wardrobes, fingers brushed.

Shared breath brought tumbling memories, salty bittersweet jewels.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the poetry as he leaned into the cloths that bound him, and his lips moved slightly.

The red wolf blurred and retreated, a smooth, reshaping of form that left him standing, nude, facing her. Seeker bit her lip and kept her gaze an his eyes, telling herself the breathless pain she felt was nothing but nervousness.

Even now, Will realized he could sense Kit's movements with a lover's awareness. He wasn't sure if that comforted or troubled him, but he stepped closer because he could, and raised one hand to touch the hackled raven on his shoulder.

As he watched, the kiss was completed. Mallory pressed pink lips over the head woman's mouth, and Tristen could see the working between the corpse's teeth. Mallory's eyes closed, fingers fanning through brown hair to hold the head steady.

My hand, innocent of its glove, catches hers. I move her fingertip from my face, but still we are skin to skin.

He squeezed Kit's elbow and felt Kit lean against him-not so much relaxing as seeking comfort and perhaps warmth, despite the way he almost flinched away from Will's steadying touch.

Michelangelo lifted his chin, turned, and gave Vincent a smile warm enough to melt his implants. He glanced over his shoulder, as if ascertaining the lounge was empty, then learned forward, slid both hands up Vincent's neck, and pulled Vincent's head down to plant a warm, tender kiss on his lips.

They laughed every time they accidentally looked at each other.

He knew Michelangelo wanted him, as he had always known. As Michelangelo had always permitted him to know.

She smiled as he came closer, her eyes as violet now as twilight, matching the shadows that surrounded them and lay under her cheekbones. The lines of her collarbone glinted like knives, and he could see the rings of her larynx through the translucent skin of her throat. He thought the bones of her fingers might crumble if he simply reached out and took her hand; even her amazing hair was lusterless and dry in its floor-long beads.

Michelangelo leaned back, but his breath stayed warm on Vincent's cheek and Vincent didn't pull away.

People had secrets. You lived with it or you didn't.

You have had many lovers, it seems." "I have many liasons," the Elf-knight answered, unflinchingly. "I have one lover.

Wait," the necromancer said, and kissed her around that silencing finger. "Gently, Rien. It's not about getting it over with as fast as possible, my sweet.

Love, all I want is to make love to somebody who knows my name.

Sebastien said nothing, but his lips burned with Jack's warmth as he shut the door behind himself and turned to face the stair.

The full story was not for strangers in bars.