Quotes About Desire

Giles kissed her again, hard and furious. As if he hated her. He'd been in love for years, yet he'd never realized love could be like this. Like someone struck him with a club over and over again. Like fire devouring him. Sweet and terrible. Painful and fierce.

What on earth was wrong with her? One would imagine she'd never been alone with a man, when her duties on the estate had her dealing with males of various degree from morning to night. None made her feel the way she felt dangling off Lord Lyle's elegant hand. She swallowed, her throat so tight that it hurt. Dear heavens, she was in trouble. And for once in her life, she felt helpless to rescue herself. "Watch

Hell," he whispered. He swept her into his arms and leaned down to claim those plump, glistening lips. Her glorious taste thundered through him. Salty and tart like a mixture of green apples and the sea. He discovered without any real surprise that he'd craved the flavor of Charlotte Warren all his life. For

All he noticed was Grace. Her exquisite skin, her slender curves wrapped in silk the color of sky, her lush mouth. He ripped himself from his distraction and crossed to the sideboard to pour her wine. But invisible wires connected him to her. Wires that tightened infinitesimally with every breath so the effort of keeping his hands off her became more onerous by the second.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as if the air itself offered sustenance. The rise and fall of her chest only made him more aware of the beautiful shape of her breasts. They weren't large but on a woman of her extreme slenderness, they seemed miraculously voluptuous. His fingers curled at his sides as if he already tested the weight and shape of her.

She blinked and with surprising reluctance, stepped apart from him. Another horrid blush stained her cheeks, and she only just stopped herself from raising a hand to touch where he'd kissed her. Her skin burned where his lips had touched.

The most terrifying part of this terrifying encounter was that just now, the man she wanted to attract was standing in front of her. And that was completely insupportable.

She trembled under his hand. "You don't need to manhandle me." "I mightn't need to, but I'd certainly like to," he purred and was rewarded with another beguiling blush. Jonas couldn't recall the last time he'd consorted with a woman innocent enough to blush.

Because nothing but annihilation would stop him wanting Serena. Even then, he'd probably come back and haunt her.

He'd misjudged the powerful effect of his beloved's nearness. Keeping his hands to himself had been simple when Serena treated him as a vague acquaintance. When he held her in his arms, control became impossible. He'd stepped away, the only thing he could do to preserve honor. His and hers.

He forced himself to sound careless, no matter that her proximity stirred his senses so powerfully. The sun flooding through the window lit rich colors in her opulent hair. Flax. Gold. Auburn.

He sat up, his shirt sagging to reveal the curve of one powerful shoulder. The sight of smooth tanned skin dried every drop of moisture from her mouth. Such a contrast to his marred face. She hadn't considered him handsome at first, even disregarding the scars. With every hour, his physical allure grew. Right now, she'd scorn a handsome man as banal. Idiot that she was, she'd discovered a taste for dark and dangerous and damaged.

He was looking at her. At her... there . She couldn't mistake the unalloyed yearning on his face as he knelt between her white thighs. It should disgust her. He should disgust her. But the idea of him seeing that hidden part of her made her shake with raw excitement.

I look forward to leaving here in a week with both pride and virtue intact." "And I look forward to nights of untold rapture in your arms, my dear Miss Forsythe.

He curled one arm around Caro's slender waist and took her gloved hand in his, and his heart leaped with an excitement he hadn't felt since he was a stripling. It was humiliating. It was disturbing. It was unacceptable. And after this long enchantment, he acknowledged that it was inescapable.

She clenched into climax, clutching at him, imperiously demanding he stay inside her. Still he rode her. Taking her higher into blinding pleasure. The blazing rapture sent her reeling. At the peak, she called out his name. This time when her passage gripped him, she held on until he joined the glorious conflagration. She milked him until he was spent. Even then quivers of ecstasy shook her.

Matthew emerged from sleep slowly, luxuriously. It must be nearly noon. He swam up from the depths of a calm warm sea. The glittering sea of the far south that he'd read about. A blue sea under a glorious sun. A sea full of pearls and exotic creatures and soft silky water. And mermaids. Indubitably there were mermaids in this sea. His particular mermaid slept naked in his arms. When he was inside her, she undulated in endless waves like a sea of pleasure.

Her hair was a tangle. Her filthy clothes would make any self-respecting debutante shriek in horror. Dirt streaked her piquant face. And still he thought she was utterly irresistible. He was in a bad way indeed. Several

He wanted her. He loved her. He had no idea where he stood with her. The thought of riding away tomorrow felt like someone scraped out his liver with a blunt knife. Lyle

You'll marry me," he said in a rough voice. If they hadn't just kissed as if the world ended, she'd think he was angry. She tipped her chin up and spoke defiantly. "Yes." Charlotte waited for him to say he was pleased, but he still looked as if he poised on the edge of a cliff. A cliff with hungry crocodiles snapping below. "Soon?" he growled. "Tomorrow if I could." "Good." He

Open your mouth, tesoro." He angled her face higher. "Open your mouth for me." At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual. "O-open...?" He took advantage and claimed her, sliding his tongue into the interior. She made a sound of surprise and tried to back off. "No." "Bella, don't be afraid.

I want to know you're mine," he grated. "Of course I'm yours." She heard the despair in her voice. If he only knew how true those words were. "When I'm inside you, like this, I know that." His unexpected vulnerability breached her barriers against revealing her love. "It's always true," she confessed, pressing upward, frustration fizzing in her blood. "Make me believe it.

Do you want me?" he growled, rubbing his cheek against hers like a lion greeting his mate. And still his huge, throbbing power filled her. "More than life itself," she admitted. He

He hadn't quite drifted off, although he looked exhausted. Under heavy eyelids, he surveyed her, a faint smile of masculine triumph teasing his lips. The possessiveness in his gaze and in his embrace made her feel wanted, needed…loved. She'd