Quotes About Passion

I want to make you weep. I want all your pleasure, Iris, all your pain, everything you are. Come for me. And she felt herself bow with the stark white bliss of her epiphany, the shattering realization of his words and his hands and his mouth. She was gasping for breath, shaking, lost, unseeing. The center of her being pulsing with pleasure.

His nostrils flared just a little bit, and the lines bracketing his mouth grew deeper. He snarled with his beautiful, twisted lips and she thought, half on the edge of falling again, she thought he looked like a demon making love to her. A demon fighting for his life or light or possibly redemption.

She wanted to ride him, wanted to hide him away in her bedroom, to use only for herself. She was jealous of every woman who had come before her. Had used this wonderful penis. Had heard his groan. She opened her eyes. But it was the women who would come after that she truly wanted to kill. He was hers. He should never share this part of himself with anyone else.

Come with me, sweet girl. She blinked up at him, wide blue-gray eyes a little dazed. He covered her mouth again before she could speak- either to consent or decline- and drew her slowly backward, step by step, toward the bed, until he hit it with the backs of his legs. He broke the kiss, looking down at her, her wet ruby lips parted, her cheeks flushed pink. She looked edible. Raphael, she whispered, his name on her lips like a plea, and something within him broke.

She shifted until his cock was under her. She rubbed herself against him, using his hard flesh to pleasure herself. He arched under her, this big strong man. The tendons of his neck stood out; he flung wide his arms and clutched at the bedclothes. Eve, what you do to me. She watched him and slowly reached down to pull her sodden chemise up, up over her belly, over her breasts, over her head, undulating on him all the while.

He rose up suddenly and turned her, so that she lay on the bed. He pushed up her skirts, found the ties to her panniers, and yanked them off and threw them to the floor. Then he was on her again, trailing his mouth down her neck, biting at her collarbone. She ran her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, grasping, trying to hold on as he moved on her so intently. He'd always been in control when he'd made love to her. Now he seemed moved by a sort of compulsion. An animal need.

And his simple bravery, his quiet pride, finally broke her. She let the cloth slip from her fingers and bent down to kiss him. His reaction was immediate and decided. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, forcing her to straddle his legs. He cradled the back of her head in the spread of his fingers, angled his head for a better fit, and opened his mouth over hers. And, oh, the man knew how to kiss.

God.' She'd tasted of oranges and honey and he'd felt her shake beneath his hands. He'd wanted to strip her right there in the carriage with his men riding outside. She was driving him mad. He couldn't look at her anymore without feeling the pull. And yet he could not send her away- everything inside him rebelled at the thought. She had to stay with him so that he could protect her. So that she could illuminate his darkness just a little.

His eyes narrowed to slits.Make love. Make love to me. Now

Fuck, you mean? His eyes narrowed to slits.Make love. Make love to me. Now

Fuck, you mean? His eyes narrowed to slits.Make love. Make love to me. Now

Elizabeth Hoyt

He caught her and drew her against him, pressing kisses into her mouth as he murmured, So beautiful So beautiful. He sat up to pull the covers over them both and then he took her into his arms as he lay back down. The fire crackled and the few candles still lit guttered and she thought, as her mind began to drift, that perhaps her feelings for her strange, dark husband might be more than just affection.

I see a woman who has a deep curiosity. Who wants to feel but is worried- of herself? Of others? I'm not sure. But I think she has a fire banked within her. Maybe it's only embers now, glowing in the dark, but if tinder were to be put to those embers... oh, what a conflagration that would be.

Now, had he the dressing of her- and why should he not?- he would put her in reds- rose and scarlet and deep, sensual crimson. Those dark inquisitor's eyes would burn from a foil of crimson cloth, mysterious, feminine. Beautiful. He was startled at the thought. Plain Mrs. Crumb beautiful? Well, most might not think her so, but oh, if she burned-

Fuck, you mean?His eyes narrowed to slits. Make love. Make love to me. Now

His knee pressed between her thighs, bunching the linen against her woman's place, spreading her and rubbing into her folds. She found herself undulating against that knee, pleasuring herself with his hard, hot, wet body.

Would you prefer it if I'd continued to wear your shirt and banyan? Actually he'd quite liked her wearing his clothes, both because her breasts had been unbuttoned it made something in him very, very content. The yellow dress, however, quite suited her. She seemed to glow in the candlelight, like a beacon of purity.

If there is any good in life, in history, in my own past, I invoke it now. I invoke it with all the passion with which I have lived.

Then draw everything. Do a hundred drawings a day,' he said fiercely. 'And remember that it's a hellish life.

At first I thought I would study literature. Then, however, I realised I loved true stories even better than imaginary ones.

The greatest stories ever told trace a path through the charred and exalted landscape of romantic love.

first hot touch of his tongue, she trembled

I told you--ten minutes, he said, breathing heavily. I don't know how to c-count, Janna said, trying to blink back tears and laughter at the same time. Ty swung up on Lucifer, brought the stallion alongside Zebra and gave Jenna a fierce kiss. Sweet liar.