Quotes About Intimacy

I want to be right for you, Connor. I want it so bad I ache.

Will you hold me?

It's not a crime to want someone to love you or to be in love or to want a relationship. Isn't it what we all want at the end of the day?

It won't be like that from now on." She raised her eyes to his and her brow wrinkled in confusion. "It won't?" "Nay, it won't." "Why?" He tempered his irritation and reminded himself that she needed a gentle hand right now. "Because I'm quite skilled in loving," he said. "And I plan to show you." Her eyes widened. "You do?" "I do.

Ewan?" she whispered. It took him a moment to respond. "Aye, lass?" "I was wrong." He stirred, rubbing his face against her cheek. "What were you wrong about?" "You're very skilled at loving." He chuckled and then hugged her tighter to him.

Tisn't decent, surely!" Bertha rolled her eyes and Maddie laughed. "There's little decency to good loving," Maddie said sagely. "If 'tis decent, it isn't much fun.

I can never get enough of you. I tell myself one more time. Just once. And it's never enough. It'll never be enough.

And you'll go to bed knowing you are mine and that you belong, heart and soul, to me.

He smiled again as he settles more firmly against her and pulled her into his arms. Yeah, he wanted her, but this was...nice.

Adam laughed. "Son, in time you'll understand that every man has to have a girly conversation with his woman whether he wants to or not. His survival depends on his willingness to accept it with good grace.

When you come, I have your eyes.

Doesn't matter," he said solemnly. "Men as a species are wrong. We're better off admitting it up front, taking our punishment and then hoping for good makeup sex.

I'd take you anyway I could have you.

God, but she loved it. His tongue

He shook his head. "No games, Serena. That isn't what this is about. If you want games of cat and mouse, disobedient slave to punishing master, you're better off with someone else. As much as this is a fantasy and not your reality, in the time you're with me, it will be real. In all ways.

He pressed his lips against her forehead in the gentlest of kisses. "I'm going to make love to you, Grace. Not right this minute. I'm not going to pressure you or rush this. But from the moment I saw you on that video surveillance tape, you were mine. I have no explanation for it. I don't even entirely understand the connection. But it's there, and I think you feel it too. I'm willing to wait until the moment is right, but you're mine.

There is nothing more that I wish than to see my marks on you. The blush of red after I've flogged your sweet ass. I want to tie you up so that you are completely helpless and at my mercy, but honey, I'll have the most tender of mercies with you.

We understand each other, Jensen. Who else would ever understand us and love us as much as we do?

to Graeme, kissing was almost as intimate as the act of lovemaking itself. It wasn't something to be hurried or to be offered as a token to woo a reluctant lass. It was an expression of regard.

Chrysander set a plate piled high with food in front of her then settled into a seat across from her. She piddled with her fork and toyed with the food, pushing it around the plate as she avoided his gaze. He sighed, and she looked up to see him staring at her. His expression was somber, as though he was enduring the worst sort of hell. She nearly laughed at the absurdity. To her horror, she felt the prick of tears, and his face swam in her vision.

Eyes," he snapped. "On me, Mia. Always on me. You don't come with your eyes closed. I want to see everything you have when I'm inside you. You don't ever shut me out.

Right about now, he'd like to have a stamp that said "Mine, stay the hell away" to put right on her forehead.

The homely and erotic patters of marriage are not easily discarded.

He let his mouth linger on mine, neither possessively nor sweetly... like his mouth just belonged there on mine. And he was right. It did. It always had.