Quotes About Intimacy

And then she fell into his arms. It was what he'd dreamed of on sleepless nights, holding her, feeling the press of her breasts to his chest, the flare of her hips in his hands. He forgot all about where they were, why they were alone together. He forgot the risk of his dishonor and her ruin. There was still a corrupt beast inside him, waiting for this chance. All that mattered was that they were alone, and she was with him, and he wished he never had to let her go.

You're going to want me, Simon, as much as I want you...and before you can have me...you're going to have to deserve me.

You don't share me. You own me.

Girlfriend is such a stupid word. I couldn't stand calling her that. So, we had to get married, so I could call her 'wife.

We'll tell our secrets to the dark"-Adam "Okay"-Mia "So let's hear another of your irrational fears"-Adam "I'm scared of losing you"-Mia "I said 'irrational' fears. Because that's not gonna happen"-Adam "It still scares me"- Mia

Her hands were freezing, just like they always were, so I warmed them, just like I always did.

I'll be your mess, you be mine That was the deal that we had signed I bought a hazmat suit to clean up your waste Gas masks, gloves, to keep us safe But now I'm alone in an empty room Staring down immaculate doom "Messy

You dumb-ass," I crooned, kissing her on the forehead. "You don't share me. You own me.

Loving someone is such an inherently dangerous act. And yet, love, that's where safety lives.

I want you to play me like a cello.

Then I smell the sweat on him, a clean musky scent that I'd bottle and wear as perfume if I could.

I know that all the magic kisses in the world probably couldn't have helped him today. But I would do anything to have been able to give him one.

And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.

I want to make her cry and then lick up the tears.

Except even at the start, when we were in that can't-get-enough-of-you-phase, there was like some invisible wall between us. At first I tried to take it down, but it took so much effort to even make cracks. And then I got tired of trying. Then I justified it. This was just how adult relationships were, how love felt once you had a few battle scars.

My first impulse is not to grab her or kiss her or yell at her. I simple want to touch her cheek, still flushed from the night's performance. I want to cut through the space that separates us, measured in feet-not miles, not continents, not years-and to take a callused finger to her face.

I don't want to lose you because of the f**ked-up way I found you.

Adam lay perfectly still, little groans escaping from his lips. I looked at the bow, looked at my hands, looked at Adam's face and felt this surge of love, lust, and an unfamiliar feeling of power.

All night long if you want. We'll tell our secrets to the dark.

And the kiss feels like something completely new. But it also feels like something deeply known.

Willem holds my wrist for a long moment, looking at that birthmark. Then he lifts it to his mouth. And though his lips are soft and his kiss is gentle, it feels like a knife jamming into the electrical socket. It feels like the moment when I go live

And suddenly I just need to hold his hand more than I've ever needed anything in this world.

Allyson meanwhile is remembering. Why this person? All the things she has told herself, or other people have told her - infatuation or Paris or good acting or lust - no longer hold water, because she remembers so viscerally and feels it anew. It's not any of that. It's not even him. Or all him. It's her. The way she can be with him.

But after shows, I craved connection. I craved skin-the taste of another woman's sweat. If it couldn't be hers , well, then anyone's would do...for a few hours.