Quotes About Romance

Why would you think there was anything more between me and Mr. Pinter?" Because you blush when his name is mentioned. Because he follows you with his eyes. Because I do not know what to make of him, and that worries me.

Husband-hunting. Always a rousing sport. I suppose you go there dressed to kill." "No, indeed. What good is a dead husband?" She smiled airily. "I go dressed to maim only.

Clearly she didn't get out into society nearly enough. Her pulse had no taste in men whatsoever.

Her corset dropped to the floor, and he swept his hands up to cup her breasts. "I'm just ungentlemanly enough to prefer a woman's real flesh, Angel. I like the softness, the fullness of it. If I wanted to feel whalebone, I'd fondle a whale.

He shifted her closer, his hand curving into the small of her back to flatten her against his lean, hard body as he showered soft, repentant kisses over her lips and cheeks, her closed eyelids, her tangled hair. "I should've left you on the Chastity ," he whispered against her mouth. "Atlantis is all right for the others but not for you.

That was the trouble with wild roses - they grew under a man's defenses when he wasn't watching.

I take it that you mean to seduce me," she murmured between kisses. "Yes." Seduce her and marry her. And then seduce her again, as often as he could. "Well then, carry on." So he did.

Does that sort of blatantly lascivious glance generally sway women to jump into your bed?" she asked tartly. "Often enough to make it worth the attempt.' He grinned. "Besides, it need only work occasionally. "a man must sleep sometime.

Perhaps everything was just as it appeared. Though the girl seemed to be up to something suspicious, it didn't seem to involve any deep feelings for Mr. Pinter. Now if only she could be as sure about Mr. Pinter's feelings for Celia...

When I saw the women ranged in the windows, when I saw their calculating looks, assessing my purse...and other things, I realized I didn't want any of them in my bed." ..."That's why I left, princess," he rasped. "Because I realized it was you I wanted in my bed. Only you.

That you are the sun in my universe, the moon in my night sky?

I never forgot you for one day, one hour, on moment. It was you, always you. Everything I did, was for you. No one else.

Fuck me sideways. I love you." My hands stilled before I pushed him off. "Uh. Thanks.

Holy shit whistles there are real live werewolves, my boyfriend is one of them, and my reaction to all this was to pull my pants down and get pounded? And that's when he wants to tell me he loves me?

Now roll onto your side so we can spoon." "Oh, God. Not snuggling!" "Get used to it," said Adam as he pushed me onto my side and pressed his rock-hard body against mine. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. "Relax," he said, his voice sleepy. "You're not lying on a bed of scorpions.

I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me as I rested my head to his chiseled chest.

I'm a sucker for a guy with a big organ.

Love and fantasy, go hand in hand.

Todas las novelas son historias de amor. Voy a sonar cursi, pero es lo que pienso: podemos prescindir de todo, menos del amor.

You are the woman who desires my kiss, and I thirst for you.

How could I be sleeping with this particular man.... Surely only true love could justify my lack of taste.

Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck.

The young habitually mistake lust for love, they're infested with idealism of all kinds.

I'll make you mine, lovers said in old books. They never said, I'll make you me.