Quotes About Intimacy

You have never kissed me. Patted me, hugged me, but you've never kissed me. Oh, Rosie, Rosie. His face looked on the point of laughter, then his lips fell gently on hers and he held the kiss for some time. Now, pressing her face from him, he said That's merely an introduction. When your cheek is better I'll do it properly.

He heard him speak some words, but he couldn't make out what they were; he then saw him bend and kiss her, not on the cheek but on the lips. Then Mrs Carver's voice from

That dowdy little prig is that good in bed.

Straightening, he towered over her, his eyes glowing with unmistakable heat. I would find the nearest supply closet and take you up on that ofer faster than you can say 'Let's get naked.

Her forehead fell to rest on the tile, her eyes burning, flooding, overflowing with the pain he seemed unable to express and she couldn't escape.

one step at a time he inched her toward the flickering fireplace, stopping at the bear rug in front of the stone hearth. She

Jack, please," she whispered, even though she had no idea what it is she was begging for. "You want sex, I'll give you sex." His low, deep voice embodied control, and did the strangest things to her body. "But before I put my cock inside you, I want to touch and taste every inch of you.

Just so you know, now that I know what it's like to kiss you, I'm never going to stop.

Hello." Sara's soft, sexy voice sounded on the other end.  "Mitch?" "Yeah?" Forgoing pleasantries and getting right to the point, she said, "My kitty stopped purring.  I think it needs to be resuscitated." 

It was getting harder and harder to be around her without touching her, kissing her, making her his once and for all.

into her bed purely for informational

No matter how many women I've kissed over the years, your lips are the ones that still haunt me.

When our fingers touch a crackle of electricity passes between us.

The thing is, when you let people get too close, you end up getting hurt.

Inside marriage, those feelings are pure. God wouldn't order us to be fruitful and multiply if He didn't want us to share intimacy. It fosters a special closeness.

Leah's baby was nestled protectively in the crook of Devon's arm. In the golden firelight, his expression appeared grim. The neck of his shirt was open, the sleeves rolled up. With a soft gasp of mother love, Leah reached for her child. But Devon's deep, silky voice stopped her. "Who is the baby's father? And do you love him?" She froze. Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded in her chest. He waited.

She didn't need to love him—Roan had seen too much of the cruelty in men to believe there was such a thing as love—but he wanted a woman who liked him. Now there was a good word. He wanted someone in his life to like him.

Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her...

What a woman tells her lover in desire should be written out on air & running water.

She couldn't remember the last time she hugged someone, really hugged someone.

We have a long way to go to being the perfect couple, we certainly don't live the fairy tale marriage, he doesn't shower me with rose petals and fly me to Paris on weekends but when I get my hair cut, he notices. When I dress up to go out at night, he compliments me. When I cry, he wipes my tears. When I feel lonely, he makes me feel loved. And who needs Paris, when you can get a hug?

What was that thing that could make two people promise one another to spend every day of the rest of their lives together? Ah,I found it. It was a thing called love. A small simple word.

Most of all she loved that when she hugged him her head would rest neatly just below his chin, where she could feel his breath lightly blowing her hair and tickling her head.

That was all part of giving someone a piece of your heart; they ended up taking a whole chunk of your mind and reserving it all for themselves.