Quotes About Romance

West took a step back, dropped the combs to the floor, and reached out to grasp a handful of shining red hair. He brought a few of the ruddy locks to his face, stroking them over his cheeks and mouth, and kissed them. His face was grave, almost severe, as he stared at her with absolute concentration. "How can you be so beautiful?

Do you feel any attraction to Lord Lambert? Butterflies swirling inside?" "No, but... I do like his looks..." "It doesn't matter if he's handsome," her sister had said with authority. Cassandra had smiled wryly. "Pandora, it's not as if you married a bridge troll.

I would never be so bourgeois as to sleep with my own husband.

She strained as he began to kiss along the side of her neck. Her skin was hot from exertion, a little salty, and her scent was divinely arousing: horses, fresh winter air, roses.

In a few minutes, West had pinned Phoebe against a corner wall of the winter garden, in a sheltered space of stone and feathery leaves. He possessed her with passion-roughened kisses, almost eating at her mouth, greedily drawing in the honeysuckle taste of her. Her skin was milk-white with golden flecks, smoothness quivering at the stroke of his tongue.

You are everything that's ever been my favorite thing," she wanted to tell him. "You are my love song, my birthday cake, the sound of ocean waves and French words and a baby's laugh. You're a snow angel, crème brulée, a kaleidoscope filled with glitter. I love you and you'll never catch up, because I've gotten a head start and my heart is racing at light speed.

You won't kiss me for diamonds," he said, his voice slightly raspy, "but you will for chocolates?" Poppy nodded. As Harry turned his face away, she saw his cheek tauten with a smile. "I'll put in a daily order, then.

Her dream lover whispered endearments as he embraced her, his mouth playing over her throat. Everywhere he touched, she felt a glow of sensation. "Shall I take you?" he whispered, carefully drawing away her clothes, baring her skin to the light and air and water. "Don't be afraid, little love, don't...

A girl stood before the dressing table, pulling a brush through her long dark hair. The sight filled McKenna with a rush of pleasure. Lady Aline Marsden... the older daughter of the Earl of Westcliff. She was warm, high-spirited, and beautiful in all ways.

Someday I'm going to throw you across his back and ride off west with you...and you'll learn to make a coffee in a tin pot over a fire, and we'll sleep underneath a wagon and look out at the stars-

I tried to curl around him, holding him with my arching body. His mouth was slow and searching, the kisses hard at first, then loosening as if unraveling from their own heat. The pleasure thickened, hard flushes rising through me, bringing the desire to full-slip ripeness.

you don't believe in marriage ..." " I changed my mind. I figured out the flaw in my reasoning. I told you it was more romantic not to get married, because then you just stay with each other for the good times. But I was wrong. It only means something when you stay during the bad times. For better or worse.

He stared at her steadily. "If we were eating Gypsy-style, sitting before a fire, I would offer you the choicest bites of meat. The soft inside of the bread. The sweetest sections of fruit.

I don't believe in love," he said. "It's a sugar-coated pill—the first taste is tolerable enough, but you quickly reach the bitter layers beneath.

Taking a rosy crest into his mouth, he sucked lightly, ran his tongue over it, until she relaxed beneath him and began to moan. Cam couldn't stop from moving then, forgetting everything but the need to push deeper into the gently gripping flesh, the warm limbs curving around him, the sweet panting mouth beneath his. He whispered compulsively against her lips... one word, over and over, the ecstasy crowning higher every time. " Mandis... mandis..." Mine.

That was an accident," Mr. Ravenel said over her head, breathing hard. "Yes," Phoebe said dazedly, "I understand." "The book was falling … I was reaching for it, and … your lips were in the way.

But you're not the marrying kind," she managed to say weakly. He touched her ear, his fingertip tracing the fragile outer curve. "I've discovered that I am when it comes to you.

Miss Hathaway." Cam spoke gently, while she fidgeted before him. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until she quieted. "Do I make you nervous?" She brought herself to look up at him, her eyes harboring the blue-black glitter of a moonlit lake. "No," she said immediately. "No, of course you … yes . Yes, you do.

And the way you dress reminds me of an unmade bed!" "Does that mean you'd like to lie on top of me?" he asked.

If there is any man in England who is more experienced than Lord St. Vincent at sneaking around for a tryst, I'd like to know who.

I wouldn't count on much adventuring if I were you. I'm going to look after you and keep you safe." She glanced at him over the rim of the cup, her eyes smiling. "What I meant was, you are the adventure.

You're not like any man I've ever known," she said. "You're not even someone I could have dreamed. You're like someone from a fairy story written in a language I don't even know." "The prince, I hope." "No, you're the dragon, a beautiful wicked dragon." Her voice turned wistful. "How could anyone have a normal everyday life with you?

His head bent to hers as they walked. "Is everything all right, sweet?" "Yes. I..." She paused, smiled, and said lamely, "I just wanted to see you." Stopping with her behind a column, Sebastian ducked his head to steal a kiss. He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling. "Shall we go play a game of billiards?" he whispered, and laughed huskily as she blushed.

What about the other guy?" My eyes half closed as I felt the heel of his hand brush the side of my breast. "He's the past," I managed to say. "You're the future." "Damn right I am.