Quotes About Passion

A stolen touch can never compete with a voluntary touch of hunger, passion, desire. The aria of choice is joyous, the cacophony of force brutal, ugly, and cold.

The kiss he gave her was not meant to seduce, it was meant to mark a woman's soul, and it was working. Dominant like the man, hungry, demanding. Beckoning forth the secret Chloe that harbored hunger every bit as deep as his. He was a dark, seductive shadow, all around her, and she was drowning in him.

heart had reasons of which reason knew nothing, the only quote of Pascal's

He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine.

They're good men. The best. Keep an open mind and heart, because I can tell you one thing for sure: when these Keltars love, they love completely and forever.

I burn everywhere and I'm hot, and I'm hot, and I'm so fecking unbelievably hot that I start tearing off my clothes and I can't do it fast enough because I feel thick and slow and stupid

Buona notte, Lisa. Dormi con gli angeli... Poi torna sulla terra e dormi col tuo diavolo, che sarebbe disposto a bruciare all'inferno, per una notte tra le tue braccia

He swung her up into his embrace and kissed her hungrily. By the time he'd finished, she was gasping for air and laughing. "My turn?" Dageus teased. "I doona think so," Drustan growled.

Make love to me, make me forget.

I'm a moth to his flame and it frightens me how willingly I'd burn my wings off for him. Destroy the world. Follow him to Hell. It's scary to feel like you can't breathe without someone. That a man has so much power over you because you love him as much as, if not more than, you care for yourself.

He laughed, a dark, sensual purr, and she felt her nipples tighten.

dark, tattooed muscle, midnight eyes glittering bloodred

Sex. Hunger. Rage. Hunger. Sex. Hunger. Rage. Hunger.

Me under her, behind her. Driving up into her. What will she do? Say? How does she sound when she comes?

My heart makes the decision without me and tries to get to her the fastest way possible.

As if they were supposed to have made a direct hit, to have a long, full, crazy, wild, passion-filled, child-strewn life together, but somehow they'd come at each other from the wrong angle, and missed what could have/would have/should have been.

But I'd cut the fucking moon out of the sky for her.

She knew her husband would never stray, so highly did he value that which he'd waited nearly six thousand years to know, so precious was it to him: love. She knew he would be there with her until the very end, that he would cherish each wrinkle, every line in her face, because in the final analysis they were not a negation of life but an affirmation of a life well lived. Proof positive of laughter and tears, of joy and grief, of passion, of living.

lust, greed, desire, and supremacy;

I'd die for him. There's nothing else to say. I'd give the last breath in my body and the last hope in my heart to keep him alive.

He had a way of making a woman feel, with a mere glance, as if she were the most desirable woman in the world. How was a woman to stare into the face of such lust, and not feel lust in response?

Slick with sweat, I defile her with reverence. Or revere her with defilement. Every. Inch. Of. Her. Motherfuckingfinebody. She likes it. No holds barred with this woman. I wouldn't have believed it of her. And she does scream Ã¢â'¬Â¦

In a court of justice, one might consider that atonement for a—" He breaks off and laughs softly. "—crime of passion. And that, my dear complicated fucking Ms. Lane, is the closest thing to an apology you will ever get from a man who apologizes to no one. Take it or leave it.

She straddles me, ass to my face, reverse cowgirl, tangled hair swinging. And son of a bitch, the woman can ride.