Quotes About Desire

He could not do it. It was as simple as that. He had known it there at the castle as he held her in his arms, his head bent back against the stone pillar, his body aching and aching for her. He could not do it. She had done nothing to deserve him and the kind of destruction he could bring into her life.

One day I am going to share the sort of love with a man that poets write of.

Mr. Sinclair is here now, and I mean to have him.

The next few days were all she could ever have of him.

And there was that other thing too—that thing that dominated his every waking moment and kept him from sleep at night and haunted his dreams when he did nod off. There was Allie.

She did not want to dance with him. But it was one thing not to want to do so and quite another not to be given a chance to do so. Lord Crensford did not come near her during the first three sets, and after that it was perfectly clear to her that he had no intention of doing so. She was not to have the satisfaction of refusing him.

He was not sure how many minutes passed while they held each other and kissed each other as if they could never be close enough to satisfy the craving of their hearts. The depth of their very obviously mutual passion left him shaken and disoriented.

Ese es el inconveniente de los sueños, [...]No siempre se hacen realidad. Pero siempre aparecen nuevos sueños con los que reemplazar los antiguos. En el fondo somos una especie llena de esperanza.

Women like to be pursued. Women like occasionally to be caught without their chaperones. Now go to her.

The heavens are about to open. I think you must prepare for a wicked night of sin with me, Mrs. Ingram. We seem to have a habit of getting ourselves into such situations during rain storms, do we not?

He opened his mouth over hers.

Oh, God, Becky, I want you, he said shakily. I must get you back home quickly, love. It is dangerous to be alone like this.

Of course she wished to go. How dreadful it would be not to be there but to be wondering every moment what was happening, imagining with whom he was walking and talking.

She wished that somewhere in her future there could be a man who would make the world an exciting place in which to live.

He had glanced hastily around, but there were other riders in sight. He had had to content himself with lifting her hand, drawing her glove down to bare her wrist, and pressing his lips to the pulse there.

Tomorrow she would have been free of him. She would have been on her way back to the life she had chosen for herself. And he had been unable to let her go.

And I wanted so much to be able to set the world at your feet. I never wanted anything but you, she almost whispered.

If I were to touch you, I might find it impossible not at least to try to ravish you. It is a dreadful fate to be a notorious rake, Diana. We have so little self-control when confronted with beautiful ladies inside secluded buildings in the dead of night and in the middle of a storm.

Oh, yes, she said, surrendering to the longing within her, make me forget, William. Make me love you.

And she had given herself to him, not just from sympathy but with more passion than he had ever known in a woman.

She did not move. She had her eyes closed. I don't care, she said after a few moments of silence, about tomorrow or about propriety or about anything except tonight and this place. And you.

You are a remarkably attractive woman, Elizabeth, and six years has been a long time. I should not say no to an invitation to your bed.

He wanted desperately to love her, to be able to make her happy, to be a family with her and their children. He wanted the dream—home, wife, children, love, happiness. Not fleetingly—gone almost before he could grasp it, darkness at its heart—but forever.

What are you doing here? she asked. It seems that you ask me that every time we meet, he said, and I always have the same answer. I wish to talk to you.