Quotes About Longing

She wanted to walk into a crowded restaurant where a man would look up and take her into his arms with his eyes. She wanted to know what it was like to feel that she was beautiful to someone and had been eagerly waited for

Only if it were raining thumbtacks and hairpins, you letch.

May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself... curiously depleted Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.

I've never stopped wanting you, Lizzie. Thinking about you. Wishing you were with me. Hell, I feel like I've been in a relationship with a ghost … I see you in my dreams every night – you're so real that I can touch you, feel you, be with you." "You've got to stop." "I can't. Lizzie…I can't.

It makes me crazy, your voice. Every day, after we'd hang up the phone, I would sleep with the fucking thing on my chest. Like maybe part of your voice, part of you was still in it.

I'm coming back at the end of the night. Be naked." "Wouldn't you rather undress me?" "No, because I'd shred that shirt, and I want you sleeping in it every night until you're in my bed with me. Be. Naked." "We'll see." His whole body throbbed at the disobedience. And she knew it, her stare level and erotic. "God, I love you," he said.

I have dreamed of touching you

With a rough shove, he pushed his palm down the front of his combats and the instant contact was made, an orgasm exploded out of him, memories of Novo from class, sparring, out in the field, flashing through his mind, keeping things going. He even went back to when he'd been inside her, her bare sex accepting his penetrations like she had been made for him and him alone.

Maybe she just needed out. Out of Caldwell. Out of the CCJ. Out of the electronic family of her alarm clock and the phone on her desk and the TV that kept her dreams away while she slept.

I've missed you," he blurted. "More than I've wanted to admit—and now that you're here with me, I can't figure out why I worked so fucking hard to avoid telling you that.

tonight as well. Fucking John Matthew. Ever since she'd barged into his brain and saw what he'd been doing to himself whenever he thought about her…she'd been doing likewise. Fucking. John Matthew. Like she needed this shit?

She had everything to offer; he had nothing. And yet she wanted him anyway. It was at that moment that he fell in love with her.

She loved him even more than she had this morning, though less than she would tomorrow.

I want to touch you," she said with an awe that made him flush. "Anywhere." God, his voice was rough. "Fuck, do anything you want to me." She

I'm waiting," Wrath muttered. "And you know how much I love that shit.

As his amethyst eyes stared into hers, the air between them changed and she had the sense that he saw so much, too much. Especially as he said in a dark voice, "Will you let me feed you?" Hypnotized, captivated, she whispered, "Yes. Please." His smile revealed long, white fangs. "That is so the answer I was going for." -Rehv & Ehlena

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God's sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He'd read that book, seen the movie, bought the sound track, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider's guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key.

I love you, she mouthed in the shadows. "Let's go," she said roughly.

No, in his imagination, things ended as they should have, with him stroking Blay's face and willing the lights on so they could look at each other. In his fantasy, he kissed his best friend again, pulled back, and… "I love you," he said into the spray of the shower. "I…love you." As he closed his eyes against the pain, it was hard to know how much of what ran down his cheeks was water, and how much was something else.

that meant he was spectacularly horny. This

it was finally, after all these years… Blay.

Es mucho mejor no tener ningún interés que sentirse insatisfecha. La insatisfacción crea un vacío que pesa demasiado.

She closed her eyes so she couldn't see him, so she could pretend it was some other male, any other male. The distance and insulation that lie offered seemed crucial. Except her body knew it was him. And oh, God… …so did her soul.

you only want to give me a handjob, I'll settle for waiting for you till a little later. But I've come close to death once already tonight—don't make your hellren die from the wanting." Mary had to smile at him. "You slay me." "And you could lay me? Please?