Quotes About Desire

Only one kiss. That was what he had intended. But Ciera's lips were sweet like the juice of a pomegranate, and her skin under his hands felt like velvet. When she put her arms around him, he deepened the kiss, pulling the pins out of her hair until it cascaded over her shoulders. The tiny jingle of the bits of metal falling to the floor was almost lost in the moan she let out when he moved his lips down her neck, and then he was lost too.

Peter," she whispered. "I don't suppose this place has a bedroom." He laughed softly in her ear. "Twelve of them, actually. Which one do you want to use?" She laughed back and bit his neck teasingly. "How about all of them? You just pick where we'll start.

It's about damned time," he said in a husky voice. "If I had to wait five more minutes to kiss you, I think I probably would have turned into a dragon myself.

i want you so much I feel like I'm going to explode." "I hear that Marines are good with explosions," Beka said.

Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, holding on as if she would never let go. She kissed him back with an ardor that astonished, gratified, and aroused him all at once, and for a moment, he lost himself in the kiss, and in the woman, thinking to himself, now this, this is magic.

As we transform ourselves into creatures of the screen, we face an existential question: Does our essence still lie in what we know, or are we now content to be defined by what we want? If we don't grapple with that question ourselves, our gadgets will be happy to answer it for us.

Hold on." He reaches back, his hand momentarily grazing my thigh. I lean into him, my arms tighten around his waist as the waves bounce up and down. We're skin to skin, two bodies melded together into one. I want to stay where I am with him, in the water, forever.

Gemma murmured. Even if she could afford Stella's

What he wanted was his own small universe, house and garden, a world he could control, an order he could impose.

Dying of love for what does not love them.

Pretty girls are not to be envied. Because when a boy sees a pretty girl, he does not see a real person. He sees a mirror of his own desires, and he falls in love with the mirror. Boys put a pretty girl on a pedestal.

Sure she wanted him to be someone else, or at least sort of someone else. Pretty much everyone wants everyone else to be at least sort of someone else, don't they?

obsession with peanut butter cookies

It was not like everyone had said. Not like being needed, or needing; not desperate; it did not whisper that I'd come to harm. I didn't lose my head. No, I was not going to leap from a great height and flap my wings. It was in fact the opposite of flying: it contained the wish to be toppled, to be on the floor, the ground, anywhere I might lie down. . . . On my back, and you on me.

My niece was very much caught up in the vampire craze for young adults, and she thought having a vampire boyfriend would be a cool thing. What do you do on a first date? The more I thought about it, the more fun I had imagining what you'd serve a vampire for dinner.

My mother was what I wanted to be: an enchanting enigma.

I will never stop grieving for my long-held wish for enduring love that does not reduce its major players to something less than they are.

I was flesh thirst desire dust blood lips cracking feet blistered knees skinned hips bruised, but I was so happy not to be napping on a sofa under a blanket with an older man by my side and a baby on my lap.

My problem is that I want to smoke the cigar and for someone else to light it. I want to blow out smoke. Like a volcano. Like a monster. I want to fume. I do not want to be the girl whose job it is to wail in a high-pitched voice at funerals.

In fact I would be content to live in a humble wooden cabin on the edge of an ocean or a lake, but somehow I looked down on myself for not having a bigger dream.

What is worse? To be chained all day with a bowl of water, or to be free and die of thirst?

Next year he would suggest they hire a chalet on the edge of an icy fjord in Norway, as far away from the Jacobs family as possible.

I wanted my whole life so far to slip away with the rolling waves, to begin a different kind of life. But I didn't know what that meant or how to get to it

Mitt problem är att jag vill röka cigarren själv och att någon annan ska tända den åt mig. Jag vill blåsa ut röken. Som en vulkan. Som ett monster. Jag vill att det ska ryka om mig. Jag vill inte vara flickan vars jobb det är att jämra sig me gäll röst på begravningar.