Quotes About Passion

Obeying her silent demand, he fused their hips together in a tight, deeply satisfying grinding motion that shot through her like a bolt of lightning. She folded herself around him and purred as sweet release streaked and spread through her, until every inch of her glowed with delight.

If I had the right, I would forbid you to go anywhere without me. Not out of selfishness, but because being apart from you is like trying to live without breathing. Think

I respect you," he murmured. "and your views. I think of you as an equal. I respect your brains, and all those big words you like to use. But I also want to rip your clothes off and have sex with you until you scream and cry and see God." -Jack Travis (Smooth Talking Stranger)

For thousands of nights I dreamed of making love to you. No man on earth has ever hated sunrise as I do.

I love you, Marks. My heart is completely and utterly yours. And unfortunately for you, the rest of me comes with it.

I want to fill every part of you, breathe the air from your lungs and leave my handprints on your soul. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear.

The question, love, is whether you want me enough to take the risk.

Now he knew that it was only love when you knew there could be no end to it. When it was as inevitable as gravity. Falling in love, a helpless descent in which the only way to avoid being hurt was to keep going. Keep falling.

My overnight success was really 15 years in the making. I'd been writing songs since I was 6 and playing in bands and performing since I was 14.

Some people train for certain sports and I want to train to be able to hold a super heavy electric guitar and carry luggage around myself because I always have to have 7 000 pairs of shoes. Who cares about sports?

You want to know if maybe Sam could have killed her," Luna said. "I don't think so. He had no motive other than keeping it a secret, and that wouldn't be much of a motive. Our prenup did not have a morals clause. If he killed her, it would have to be a crime of passion. He'd have to lose control. I can't conceive of what would precipitate that.

into his shoulder, "maybe you better put some clothes on.

The feelings he aroused in her were like a complete realignment of her being, right down to the molecular level.

He'd always considered whatever went on between "Hello" and "Let's get it on" to be perfectly useless. An empty wasteland of time getting to what both parties wanted.

Lisa Marie Rice

Okay. I don't know how we're going to do this. If I'm not in you inside of five minutes, I'm going to die. My heart will simply explode, and it won't be pretty. But the thing is this - I haven't had sex in a couple years, which creates two problems. One, I don't have any condoms. If I had any condoms in some drawer somewhere, they'd be powder by now. And two, I can't promise to pull out because I'm going to come the second I'm in you.

He couldn't wait—not one second more—and entered her with one long hard thrust. He was so careful with her, always, but this time he couldn't be careful, couldn't be gentle; he needed to possess her the way he needed to breathe.

They had a fabulous sex life. Drake was an attentive, tender lover who took his time in pleasing her. But every once in a while something in him changed and she caught a glimpse of the truly dangerous man he really was. She hadn't tamed him, not one bit. He just chose to show her a tender side he said he'd only discovered with her. But sometimes the tiger in him growled and clawed its way to the surface. And then the sex was incandescent.

The rest of what she wanted to say was lost in his mouth. A red mist rose in his head. Fast as lightning, he picked her up, stripped her, pulled off his sweatshirt, pushed his sweat pants down—he deliberately hadn't put on underwear, either—and embedded his c#ck in her. Just shoved it in because he'd die if he didn't have his c#ck in her now.

She made him feel alive after a long time feeling like he'd been buried in the stone cold ground. She made his heart beat again. No one was going to touch her.

Her hand lifted without any volition on her part, as if it were the hand itself that wanted to be held by his. He gently grasped it in both hands, instead of the impersonal handshake she'd been expecting. His hands were as hot as a furnace. Slowly, watching her every second, he brought her hand to his mouth and—oh my God—kissed it. Something inside her, something she'd never even suspected existed, pinged to life. Heat, excitement . . . desire.

She whimpered, the sound lost in Mike's mouth. She was entirely his, completely without willpower or volition. His mouth ate at hers, his shoulders curved in to her like some powerful wall of flesh. He moved his hips against her in short, stabbing movements, hands lifting her hips against his.

Yes, she, Claire Parks, who by all rights should have been dead these many years, her bleached bones rotting in the cold ground, was turned on. Waves of heat rolled through her body in liquid surges. The heat became almost incandescent in her breasts and in her loins, but her entire body burned and tingled with heat and life.

It always amuses me how much time people have to sit there and focus their energy on slagging you off. If they spent a fraction of that time on passion on working on their own business... they might actually get somewhere in life!