Quotes About Vulnerability

Feel my heart," he said. His voice sounded thick to his own ears. "Tell me if it stops.

I didn't want to Ã¢â'¬Â¦ to have to ask him to defend me." He stared at her, his face blank with incomprehension. He shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes away from her. "What in God's name d'ye think a man is for?" he asked at last.

In bed," she said calmly. "I want you to come to bed with me.

his weight pinning me to the bed.

Grey had noticed this female paradox before: women who swooned at the notion of powerful men who would protect them at the same time liked nothing better than an open admission of helplessness on the part of any male within their sphere of influence.

Tu eÈ™ti curajul meu, aÈ™a cum eu sunt conÈ™tiinÈ›a ta, mi-a È™optit. Tu eÈ™ti inima mea, iar eu, compasiunea ta. Singuri, nu suntem întregi. Nu È™tiai asta, englezoaico?

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

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

In older, more primitive times (like these? asked another part of my mind), it was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies.

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.

I suddenly realized how much I looked forward to seeing him at dinner after the day's work, how my heart would leap when I saw him unexpectedly at odd moments during the day, and how much I depended on his company and his solid, reassuring presence amid the complexities of life in the castle. And, to be perfectly honest, how much I liked the smooth, warm strength of him in my bed each night, and waking to his tousled, smiling kisses in the mornings. The prospect of his absence was bleak.

She supposed she ought to feel exposed in some way, the privacy of her thoughts and dreams laid bare to him—but she trusted him with them. He would never use those things against her.

Beni tan?d???n için, bana dokunmadan beni parçalara ay?rabilirsin.

Is thee afraid of me, Rachel? he whispered. I am, she whispered back, and closed her hand on his wounded shoulder, lightly but not enough for him to feel the hurt of it. And I am afraid for thee, as well. But there are things I fear much more than death--and to be without thee is what I fear most.

It was an act of trust to sleep in de presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies

Then open your legs for me, there's a good lass no, a bit wider, aye?" He

He choked, laughed in a shocked way, wept a little more

I'm glad you're not dead. Wasn't sure for a bit." Hal went out before he could reply. Tears welled in John's eyes, and he dashed at them with the sleeve of his nightshirt, muttering irritably in a vain attempt to convince himself that he wasn't moved.

When ye ha' bairns, there's that wee time when ye really are all they need. And then they leave your arms and ye're scairt all over again, because now ye ken all the things that could harm them, and you not able to keep them from it.

It's not what's happened or what's about to happen; what's important is the sense of emotional uncertainty between the characters and the delicacy of the mutual trust being established.

But for the hours of the night, I was helpless; powerless to move as a dragonfly in amber.

If needs must, she could do those things for herself-or find another man. And yet...she needed him-would mourn his loss if it came. Perhaps forever. In his present vulnerable mood, that knowledge seemed a great gift.

I felt deeply betrayed that the man I depended on as friend, protector, and lover intended to do such a thing to me. And my sense of self-preservation was quietly terrified at the thought of submitting myself to the mercies of someone who handled a fifteen-pound claymore as though it were a flywhisk.

I know what it felt Ã¢â'¬Â¦ like when I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ thought you were dead, and—" A small gasp for breath, and her eyes locked on his. "And I wouldn't do that to you.