Quotes About Romance

After one last luxurious inhalation of her scent, Devon released her slowly, knowing that for the rest of his life, a single breath of a rose would bring him back to this moment.

Ultimately no particular woman had ever seemed all that different from the rest. Until those letters. The sentences had looped around him with a spirit so artless and adorable, he had loved it, loved her, immediately. His thumb moved over the parchment as if it were sensitive living skin. "Mark my words, Audrey- I'm going to marry the woman who wrote this letter.

It was more than a kiss...it was a sentence of unbroken kisses, the hot sweet syllables of lips and tongue making her drunk on sensation.

Thankyou,"Catherine said, the smile still hovering on her lips. "That is kind of you my lord. But i will never dance with you." Which, ofcourse, made it the goal of leo's life.

Regarding her thoughtfully, St. Vincent leaned down to remove her shoes. "You'll be more comfortable without these," he said. "For God's sake, don't shy away. I'm not going to molest you in the carriage." Untying the laces, he continued in a silken tone, "And if I were so inclined it's of little consequence, since we're going to be married soon." He grinned as she jerked her stocking-clad foot away from him, and he reached for the other.

Becoming aware of his wife's gaze, Westcliff's head turned. Some voiceless message was delivered between them … and he responded with a quick, almost indiscernible wink. A chuckle rustled in Lady Westcliff's throat. She turned to Amelia. "We'll have been married four years, come September," she said rather sheepishly. "I had supposed I would have stopped mooning over him by now, but I haven't.

I suppose you'll want a full-fledged proposal on bended knee?" She nodded, the corners of her mouth deepening. "Because I do so love to hear you say please." Amusement glinted in his eyes. "Then I suppose we're a well-matched pair." Covering her body with his, he settled against her intimately before whispering, "Because I do so love to hear you say yes.

Oh, dear," she said, staring into her nearly empty cup. "Did I drink all of that?" Nick took the cup from her and set it on the table. "I'm afraid so." "Only you could undo my years of training at Maidstone's in one evening," she said, making him grin. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he traced the edge of her jaw with his fingertip. "Are you completely corrupted now? No? Then let's go home, and I'll finish the job.

I've given him leave to court you," he said bluntly. "Only if you desire it. If you do not--" " What? " Kathleen burst out, fury pumping through her. Why hadn't Devon mentioned anything about it to her? He must have known that she would object. As a matter of fact, she objected with every bone in her body. Winterborne wasn't right for Helen in any regard. Anyone could see that.

Amanda wrestled with him briefly, enjoying the sensation of rubbing along his brawny naked body until his erection rose hot and hard between them. "Very primitive," she said throatily, continuing to squirm until he gave a groaning laugh.

I'd like to do more than sketch you naked. I want to draw directly on you with feather and ink … flowers around your breasts, trails of stars down your thighs." He let his warm lips brush the edge of her ear. "I want to map your body, chart the north, south, east, and west of you. I would—

In no time at all, Beatrix appeared. She was wearing a white dress made of thin, flowing layers, the bodice wrapped intricately over the curves of her breasts. The translucence of her chest and upper arms gave her the look of emerging from the white silk.

Evie, the most gentlest and most soft-spoken of them all, had been the one least likely to capture the heart of the notorious Lord St. Vincent, who had been the definitive rake. Although Evie, with her round blue eyes and blazing red hair, possessed a rare and unconventional beauty, she was unbearably shy. And there was the stammer. But Evie also had a reserve of quiet strength and a gallant spirit that seemed to have seduced her husband utterly.

For thousands of nights I dreamed of making love to you. No man on earth has ever hated sunrise as I do.

John Huntington eyed Suzanne Barron across her very stylish desk in her very stylish office. She was stylish herself—classy

Lisa Marie Rice thrilled fans and new readers alike when she returned to the world of her popular Midnight Series with Midnight Vengeance and Midnight Promises. This June, in Midnight Secrets, we get to fall in love with her cracktastic and sexy romantic suspense series all over again.

And watch for Midnight Fire, the next book in the Midnight series, coming soon!

Lisa Marie Rice

He couldn't wait—not one second more—and entered her with one long hard thrust. He was so careful with her, always, but this time he couldn't be careful, couldn't be gentle; he needed to possess her the way he needed to breathe.

They had a fabulous sex life. Drake was an attentive, tender lover who took his time in pleasing her. But every once in a while something in him changed and she caught a glimpse of the truly dangerous man he really was. She hadn't tamed him, not one bit. He just chose to show her a tender side he said he'd only discovered with her. But sometimes the tiger in him growled and clawed its way to the surface. And then the sex was incandescent.

The rest of what she wanted to say was lost in his mouth. A red mist rose in his head. Fast as lightning, he picked her up, stripped her, pulled off his sweatshirt, pushed his sweat pants down—he deliberately hadn't put on underwear, either—and embedded his c#ck in her. Just shoved it in because he'd die if he didn't have his c#ck in her now.

Her hand lifted without any volition on her part, as if it were the hand itself that wanted to be held by his. He gently grasped it in both hands, instead of the impersonal handshake she'd been expecting. His hands were as hot as a furnace. Slowly, watching her every second, he brought her hand to his mouth and—oh my God—kissed it. Something inside her, something she'd never even suspected existed, pinged to life. Heat, excitement . . . desire.

She whimpered, the sound lost in Mike's mouth. She was entirely his, completely without willpower or volition. His mouth ate at hers, his shoulders curved in to her like some powerful wall of flesh. He moved his hips against her in short, stabbing movements, hands lifting her hips against his.

I wiggle an eyebrow. "I get to see you in a tuxedo?" "Better. You can help me take it off.