Quotes About Intensity

Barrons had just given me the most carnal, sexually charged hungry look I'd ever seen in my life, and I was pretty sure he didn't even know he had done it.

I'm going to kill the kid. - Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bodly laught. -Get in line

Silver eyes met hers and locked. "I didn't like Dani." "At least you're consistent," she said coolly. His silver eyes were ice. "I loved her.

Barrons." I hastily shoved the phone between the cushions. Ms. Lane." He inclined his dark head. You tattooed me, you bastard." I got right to the point.

If only [love] could be turned off. It's not a faucet. Love's a bloody river with level-five rapids. Only a catastrophic act of nature or a dam has any chance of stopping it- and then only succeeds in diverting it. Both measures are extreme and change the terrain so much you end up wondering why you bothered. No landmarks to gauge your position when it's done. Only way to survive is to devise new ways to map out life.

I'll never get laid trying to keep you safe. You're a train wreck on steroids.

Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever.

If he killed her I'm going to beat him bloody and eat him piece by piece, slowly, with steak sauce.

His eyes bore into mine. He watches every nuance, every detail of every expression, as if his existence depends on it. He fucks with the single-minded devotion of a dying man hunting God.

Electric, wild, one foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out. And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was. (Mac about Barrons)

All those 'bloodys' was a veritable cornucopia of emotion for Barrons.

If I have to chain you to a fucking wall to protect you from your own stupidity, I will! Wrists. Beam. Chained already Barrons. Come up with a new threat.

I hear a guttural sound followed by a weak sigh and look back at the bodies. "I'm going to kill the kid," Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bloody laugh. I don't think he even has the parts left to laugh with. "Get in line.

I was stunned to see that he looked stunned himself, which was an exorbitant display of emotion for Barrons.

He's disturbingly sexual to men and women alike in a way that sets your teeth on edge. With Barrons you aren't sure if you're going to get fucked or turned inside out and left a new unrecognizable person adrift with no moorings on a see with no bottom and no rules.

He'd made her feel what Barrons made me feel. Bigger than I could possibly be, larger than life, on fire with possibilities, ecstatic to be breathing, impatient for the next moment together. She'd been happy in those last months, so alive and happy.

They loved so intensely that moments of their life have been etched into the very fabric of the mansion. Some say the king designed it that way, so if one day he lost her he could come live with her residue.

He didn't just kiss, he claimed ownership. Took her mouth with urgency, as if his life depended on his kissing her.

He kissed like no man she'd ever known. There was something about him, a rawness, an earthy sensuality that bordered on barbaric, something she'd never be able to explain to someone else. A woman had to be kissed by Dageus MacKeltar to fully understand how devastating it was. How it could bring a woman to her knees.

Sonofamotherfuckinggoddamnbitch! JaysustiittyfuckingChrist!" That was Lor. Man of few words.

His face was in my neck and he was breathing hard. Was he grieving me? Already? Would he miss me? Had I, in some tiny way, come to matter to this enigmatic, hard, brilliant, obsessed man? I realised he'd come to matter to me. Good or evil, right or wrong, he mattered to me...

He was so close, his body electric, his expression savage. I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing. He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced the air, and turned his back to me. "Was that an invitation, Ms. Lane?" "If it was?" I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing? "I don't do hypotheticals. Little girl

So what's the big picture about our lust for sex? We're not trying to acquire something. We want to feel something: Alive. Electrically, intensely, blazingly alive. Good. Bad. Pleasure. Pain. Bring it on--all of it. For people who live small, I guess enough of that can be found in sex. But for those of us who live large, the most alive we ever feel is when we're punching air with a fist, uncurling our middle finger with a cool smile, and flipping Death the big old bird.

I want to drop to all fours and bay like a wild thing drunk on being hungry and strong, a beast that could fuck for days without cease if I could only find someone that could take it as hard and long a I can give it.