Quotes About Passion

Even when I've just left ye, I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.

You said you could tear me limb from limb without touching me, I said. You were right, damn you. I am sorry, he whispered again, but this time he reached for me, and held me tight against him. That I loved you? Don't be sorry for that, I said, my voice half muffled in his shirt. Not ever.

Sometimes I want to ride you like a wild horse, and bring you to the taming—did you know that? I can do it, you know I can. Drag you over the edge and drain you to a gasping husk. I can drive you to the edge of collapse and sometimes I delight in it

He was generally aware that he had been blessed in her beauty; even in her usual homespun, knee-deep in mud from her garden, or stained and fierce with the blood of her calling, the curve of her bones spoke to his own marrow, and those whisky eyes could make him drunk with a glance. Besides, the mad collieshangie of her hair made him laugh.

Good sex scene is about the exchange of emotions, not bodily fluids

He reached out and touched my lower lip, barely brushing the edge. "It starts out the same, but then, after a moment," he said, speaking softly, "suddenly it's as though I've a living flame in my arms." His touch grew firmer, outlining my lips and caressing the line of my jaw. "And I want only to throw myself into it and be consumed.

Dear God," he said, still softly. "I couldna look at ye, Sassenach, and keep my hands from you, nor have ye near me, and not want ye.

I stood in front of him in nothing but my shoes and gartered rose-silk stockings.

And his release began, deep inside me, without his moving, shivering through his body so that his arms trembled, the ruddy hairs quivering in the dim light, and he dropped his head with a sound like a sob, his hair hiding his face as he spilled himself, each jerk and pulse of his flesh between my legs rousing an echo in my own.

And I want only to throw myself into it and be consumed.

To the last drop of my blood, mo duinne." "Mo duinne" I asked, a little disturbed by the intensity of this speech. (…) "It means 'my brown one.' " He raised a lock of hair to his lips and smiled, with a look in his eyes that started all the drops of my own blood chasing each other through my veins. "Mo duinne," he repeated, softly. "I have been longing to say that to you.

Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me, a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.

Does it ever stop? The wanting you?

You'll lie wi' me now," he said quietly. "And I shall use ye as I must. And if you'll have your revenge for it, then take it and welcome, for my soul is yours, in all the black corners of it.

One of my mother's friends was an artist. He showed me a few things – though warning me that to become an artist was the only certain way to starve.

You will never satisfy a woman," she said softly. "Any woman who shared your bed will leave after no more than a single night, cursing you." "Very likely, madam," he said. "Good night.

It starts out the same, but then, after a moment," he said, speaking softly, "suddenly it's as though I've a living flame in my arms." His touch grew firmer, outlining my lips and caressing the line of my jaw. "And I want only to throw myself into it and be consumed." I

So ye've come back to him," he said happily. "God, that's romantic!

Mo nighean donn," he whispered, "mo chridhe. My brown lass, my heart." "Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me, a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.

Diana Gabaldon

Until we two be burned to ashes.

He grabbed her and held on, thinking that nothing in his life had ever felt better than the weight of her against him and the taste of her mouth, in spite of the fact that she'd plainly eaten onions for lunch

These were people like that. The ones who cared so terribly much—enough to risk everything, enough to change and do things. Most people aren't like that, you know. It isn't that they don't care, but that they don't care so greatly.

da mi basia mille, diende centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum Ã¢â'¬Â¦