From My Lips To Hers Quotes

My only intention is,
That one day,
You see my sincerity,
Hear my affection,
Feel my sensuality,
And remember my truths. ~ Carlo Kui

But that's not what I'm trying to tell you," Violet said, her eyes taking on a slightly determined expression. "What I'm trying to say is that when you were born, and they put you into my arms - it's strange, because for some reason I was so convinced you would look just like your father. I thought for certain I would look down and see his face, and it would be some sort of sign from heaven."

Hyacinth's breath caught as she watched her, and she wondered why her mother had never told her this story. And why she'd never asked.

"But you didn't," Violet continued. "You looked rather like me. And then - oh my, I remember this as if it were yesterday - you looked into my eyes, and you blinked. Twice."

"Twice?" Hyacinth echoed, wondering why this was important.

"Twice." Violet looked at her, her lips curving into a funny little smile. "I only remember it because you looked so deliberate. It was the strangest thing. You gave me a look as if to say, 'I know exactly what I'm doing.' "

A little burst of air rushed past Hyacinth's lips, and she realized it was a laugh. A small one, the kind that takes a body by surprise.

"And then you let out a wail," Violet said, shaking her head. "My heavens, I thought you were going to shake the paint right off the walls. And I smiled. It was the first time since your father died that I smiled."

Violet took a breath, then reached for her tea. Hyacinth watched as her mother co ~ Julia Quinn

At first it seemed to be no more than a chance ray of light beamed into the vestibule by the shifting of a tree-bough between house and street lamp, but as we kept our eyes glued to it we saw that it was a form - a tall, attenuated, skeletally-thin form moving stealthily in the shadow.

Slowly the thing emerged from the gloom of the doorway, and despite the warning I had had, I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck just above my collar, and a feeling as of sudden chill ran through my forearms. It was tall, as we had been told, fully six feet from its bare-boned feet to hairless, parchment-covered skull; and the articulation of its skeleton could be seen plainly through the leathery skin that clung to the gaunt, staring bones. The nose was large, high-bridged and haughty, like the beak of a falcon or eagle, and the chin was prominent beneath the brownish sheath of skin that stretched drum-tight across it. The eyes were closed and showed only as twin depressions in the skull-like countenance, but the mummified lips had retracted to show a double line of teeth in a mirthless grin. Its movements were irregular and stiff, like the movements of some monstrous mechanical doll or, as Edina Laurace had expressed it, like a marionette worked by unseen wires. But once it had emerged from the doorway it moved with shocking quickness. Jerkily, and with exaggeratedly high knee-action, it crossed the lawn, came to the sidewalk, turned on its parchment-soled feet as if ~ Seabury Quinn

His breathing increases. "I've only kissed one woman in my damn life. But I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now," he says as he drops his head down closer to hers, so that their lips are just inches apart. "Can I kiss you?" he whispers. ~ Madeleine Beckett

She lay quiet, looking at the ceiling. 'I wish the peace to come back,' she said.

'He himself is the peace. He comes if we invite him, and stays, if we ask. It's ourselves who wander away.'

'Why do we wander away?'

'Its the old free-will business - we're charmed by the self, by our own pointless self-seeking.'

'What does he want from us?'

'He wants us to ask him into our lives, to give everything over to him, once and for all.'

'I can't imagine.'

'I couldn't either. I heard it preached and talked about all my life. I exegeted Romans and memorized vast amounts of scripture before I was twelve years old, but somehow it went in one ear and out the other - I got the bone, but not the marrow. Long after becoming a priest, I remained terrified of surrendering anything, much less everything. And then one day I did.'

'Why?'

'Because I could no longer bear the separation from him.'

She licked her dry lips. 'You said there would be nothing to lose.'

'And everything to gain.'

'I don't wish to be humiliated.'

'By God?' He took the lid from the balm and moistened the swab.

'By anyone, and especially God.'

'God does not humiliate the righteous. He may fire us in the kiln to make us vessels, crush us like grapes so we become wine - but he never humiliates. That is the game of little people.'

'I have always depended on ~ Jan Karon

I know what you're doing," he whispered to Raphael, whose movements only became more fervent, and the thought slipped from the boy's mind so that he became dazed and undone with pleasure, staring up at the ceiling, watching as it blurred and became indistinct, and he felt the rising rush of pleasure, until he cried out in a sharp gasp.
And the pleasure went on and on, as it did, unbearably, until either Raphael took pity on him, or he pushed his Genitor away. Whichever it was, the pleasure that was leaking into pain, stopped, and he was lifted and laid down on the stone, cold and hard under his spine, and Raphael was bent over him, kissing up this time, up to his lips, flicking his tongue at them, and whispering: "Don't question my love for you. Ever again. ~ Carmen Dominique Taxer

I love you more than words can say. I love you more than what you can imagine. I love you more than what your senses can perceive. I love you more than all the mortals' feelings, emotions, love, and passion combined. You became part of my blood cells' contents. You became my white blood cells that protect me from getting sick. You became my blood plasma that I will die without. You became my red blood cells that I can't breathe without. You became my heart, that through it, I can survive. You became my lungs, that without them, I would die. You became my brain that is the only hope for life if my heart stops functioning. You became my eyes that see you and were created only to see you. You became my limbs that I can't do anything without. You became my nose that smells your musk, even if you are amid millions of mortals. You became my lips that touch your flesh and paint their signature on every inch of your body. I am your love who cannot live without you. ~ Amany Al-Hallaq

I'm about to wake Brianna up to see if she knows anything when Carolyn comes in. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she's wearing workout clothes - sports bra, cropped leggins, running shoes.
For a moment, I'm speechless. She's sweaty, her face is bright red from exertion, and she's slightly out of breath. Her ab muscles pulse as she takes a swig from her water bottle. She smiles at me, her lips wet from the water or sweat or both, and something strange happen-I feel like a hand has clenched around my insides and is tugging, urging me toward her, and I suddenly feel very warm. Hot, even. Like I've been hit with a fever. I have to remind myself to breathe.
She's even more beautiful now than she was yesterday.
And here I am, in this ridiculous pink sack, probably with major bedhead. ~ Jessica Verdi

I brought my lips down to hers, and it was like everything that had ever happened to me had simply been a warm-up for this moment, that this was where my life truly began. ~ Richelle Mead

Say yes, Avery. Say that you're in this with me." She closes
her eyes. "Of course I am." I crush my lips to hers.
Avery - she's my destiny. There are too many times fate has
brought us together, and I can no longer deny that she is my
dream and this is exactly where I'm supposed to be. ~ Michelle A. Valentine

I wanted to get in the car and drive, just drive. Just get to you. That's all I could think of, was
getting to you. But I knew I had to sober up first. So I went out, to the beach. I thought if I
walked awhile that might help. And it was cold, you know? The water was cold. I thought if I
splashed some on my face ... well, if I took a swim. That would help. I thought I'd only jump in, get wet. I thought it would only take a few minutes and I could be on my way. To you."
His voice snagged like a burr on silk. Heat leaked from the corners of Bess's eyes and slipped between her lips. Salt water. Always salt water.
I was stupid," Nick whispered.
You didn't know," she whispered back.
It took my feet out from under me. And all I could think of was how you were waiting, and I was going to fuck it all up again. How I was going to let you down. ~ Megan Hart

I wish I could blame the solar storm
that blitzed the earth with electromagnetic rays,
rerouted several commercial airlines,
and caused all the geese to mistakenly fly west,
the secret compass needles in their heads
playing spin the bottle over a rowdy Pacific.
Satellite communications were disrupted,
electric eels in Peru forgot how to sing,
and for a few seconds all the iPhones in the world
flickered to black, during which time
everyone raised their eyes and noticed
moths shivering like tiny chandeliers.
The truth is your glance shortcuts every traffic light
in my heart and now no one's in charge,
I'm accelerating down the expressway
of a tuba's gold dream. With one outburst
from your hair, I sputter like a firefly drowning
in champagne. Just imagining the charged particles
of your lips colliding with mine
and I'm watching the northern lights,
those bodies flaring across midwinter sheets of sky ~ Katherine Rauk

I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.
(Pause. Krapp's lips move. No sound.)
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited. ~ Samuel Beckett

I know what might make me feel better," she said, smiling as he let out a low rumble in his throat, his dragon peeking out in his gaze, telling her he wanted to play too.
Drake cupped the side of her face gently, stroking a thumb over her cheek. "Aren't you supposed to meet my mom and aunts for dinner?"
She lifted a shoulder, the sheet rustling slightly under the movement. "I can be a little bit late."
Laughing lightly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips over hers for a far too short kiss. "If we start something now, you won't be just a little late. You won't make it at all. ~ Katie Reus

Nuit Blanche"

A music coaxed from humming strings would please;
Not plucked, but drawn in creeping cadences
Across a sunset wall where some Marquise
Picks a pale rose amid strange silences.


Ghostly and vaporous her gown sweeps by
The twilight dusking wall, I hear her feet
Delaying on the gravel, and a sigh,
Briefly permitted, touches the air like sleet


And it is dark, I hear her feet no more.
A red moon leers beyond the lily-tank.
A drunken moon ogling a sycamore,
Running long fingers down its shining flank.


A lurching moon, as nimble as a clown,
Cuddling the flowers and trees which burn like glass.
Red, kissing lips, I feel you on my gown -
Kiss me, red lips, and then pass - pass.


Music, you are pitiless to-night.
And I so old, so cold, so languorously white. ~ Amy Lowell

I made lasagna for dinner," Tamsyn called out. "That work for you?"
He continued to look at her, as if he'd drink her up with his eyes. "Anything is fine."
"Maybe I shouldn't waste my lasagna on you, then." Tamsyn grabbed a container from the cooling unit. "How about some cardboard instead?"
Brenna found herself amused in spite of the blood that continued to scent the air and the taut expectation that stretched between her and Judd. Lips twitching, she waited for his response.
"Cardboard has no nutritional value." Utterly toneless. "Lasagna would be a better choice. ~ Nalini Singh

As the company headed for the table, I drew her over to the window and passionately kissed her face, which had delicately recovered from its past suffering. I was wrong to say that I have never recaptured the sweetness of that kiss at Les Oublis. The kiss on this evening was as sweet as no other. Or rather, it was the kiss of Les Oublis, which, evoked by the allure of a similar minute, slipped gently from the depths of the past and settled between my mother's still vaguely pale cheeks and my lips. ~ Marcel Proust

Then what do you want form me?"

"I want to lie beside you and know the weight of your dreams," he said, brushing his lips against my knuckles. "I want to share whole worlds with you and write your name in the stars." He moved closer and a chorus of songbirds twittered silver melodies.

"I want to measure eternity with your laughter."

Now, he stood inches from me; his rough hands encircled my waist. "Be my queen and I promise you a life where you will never be bored. I promise you more power than a hundred kings. And I promise you that we will always be equals. ~ Roshani Chokshi

I've never awaited a kiss more in my whole life.
"It won't hurt, I promise." He husks throatily, lowering his head, blocking out the sun so all I see are twin blues and my own lust mirrored back in them.
I'm right. It's a kiss like no other I've had before.
He doesn't plunder, not at first.
His lips edge across mine - first the top, then the bottom, coaxing me to open. He presses lightly, teasing me almost into whimpering. Of course I want more, I'm out of my flipping mind wanting the kiss, so I drag at his shirt, as if to tell him to get on with it already and that's when his mouth opens, and my brain switches off.
His mouth lays waste to mine in a not-so-surprising and yet all arousing eating kiss that feels as though he's wolfing me down from the inside with each measured flick of his tongue. His taste floods through me, not a corner of my body is left out of the pleasure soaking out of Theo and into me.
He kisses like I've always wanted to be kissed by a man. ~ V. Theia

I don't get scared very often," he said finally. "I was scared the first morning I woke up and you weren't here. I was scared when you left me after Vegas. I was scared when I thought I was going to have to tell my dad that Trent had died in that building. But when I saw you across the flames in the basement ... I was terrified. I made it to the door, was a few feet from the exit, and I couldn't leave.
"What do you mean? Are you crazy?" I said, my head jerking up to look into his eyes.
"I've never been so clear about anything in my life. I turned around, made my way to that room you were in, and there you were. Nothing else mattered. I didn't even know if we would make it out or not, I just wanted to be where you were, whatever that meant. The only thing I'm afraid of is a life without you, Pigeon."
I leaned up, kissing his lips tenderly. When our mouths parted, I smiled. "Then you have nothing to be afraid of. We're forever. ~ Jamie McGuire

Despite all the commotion, and to Calla's surprise, Guthrie kissed her. His lips were warm and masculine and tasted like wassail. Cinnamon, apple cider, and oranges. She licked his mouth to enjoy more of the taste and he licked hers back, smiling. then he deepened the kiss.
Oh my God! She hadn't felt this naughty in forever! The men were going to move the tree soon, and here she and Guthrie would be. Kissing. In front of several members of his pack. She pushed her arms through the branches, trying to wrap them around his neck. She tangled her tongue with his, his cock hardening against her belly, and she felt deliciously wicked hidden beneath the half-decorated tree. ~ Terry Spear

For a moment we are weightless, eyes open and locked underwater, flowers drawn down with us, swirling around us in a current of white bubbles. My hair floats around us both like black silk. His hands are still around my waist, mine pressed against his bare chest. My lamp drifts between us.
Aladdin plants his feet against the bottom of the pool and kicks off, pushing us upward to burst through the surface. He gasps in air and shakes the wet hair from his eyes. Without pulling away, we float in silence, and I cannot take my gaze from him. Water runs down his cheeks and lips, dripping from his jaw. A lock of his hair is stuck to his forehead, and I gently lift it away, curling it around my finger before letting it go.
"What are we doing?" he whispers, pulling me closer.
I cannot reply. I don't trust my own voice. He brings his forehead down to rest against mine, and everything outside this pool and this moment ceases to exist. All that matters is the gentle sound of our breathing, our reflections on the water, the feel of his hands around me. ~ Jessica Khoury

I found the words at the back of a drawer,
wrapped in black cloth, like three rings
slipped from a dead woman's hand, cold,
dull gold. I had held them before,

years ago,
then put them away, forgetting whatever it was
I could use them to say. I touched the first to my lips,
like a pledge, like a kiss,

and my breath
warmed them, the words I needed to utter this, small words,
and few. I rubbed at them till they gleamed in my palm –
I love you, I love you, I love you –
as though they were new. ~ Carol Ann Duffy

One date and I'm already craving everything, Bexley. Especially from these gorgeous lips. Put them on me," he grunts.
"Was it… was it the way I ate my gummy bears?"
He laughs, the noise went from his mouth into mine and I sigh dreamily, leaning into him. He's too potent for me to resist. How can I leave it at one date after he's said all that sweet stuff? I'm a woman, not a robot. Anyone's resolve would melt like water on sugar if a sexy as sin guy talks about being obsessed with kissing them.
"You were pretty brutal nibbling their ears off first. ~ V. Theia

How did I ever stay away from you?" Gentle fingertips caressed my cheeks, my lips, ran over my chin and down my neck. His palm came to rest on my chest, his fingers splayed out over my heart. It thrummed in devotion against his hand. "I heard this calling out for me every day." His breath whispered across my face, his words so sad, filled with so much regret. "Did you hear mine? ~ A.L. Jackson

What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice husky with anger.
I backed away, hitting the wall, and watched warily as he stalked me. My chin tilted, my lips parting in surprise as he placed his hands above my head on the wall and caged me against it. He lowered his head, his nose sliding along mine until his mouth rested just above my lips. I swallowed, finally finding my voice. "What do you want from me?"
His answer was to crush my lips beneath his. ~ Samantha Young

He patted her hand. "But I will settle for an amiable wife." It was as close to making a declaration of his intentions as he'd come.
So of course Mr. Pinter chose that inopportune moment to enter the breakfast room. "And whose amiable wife are you settling for, sir?" he said in a snide tone.
His gaze dropped to the viscount's hand resting on hers, then darkened. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand free.
The viscount bristled, tightening his hand almost possessively on hers. "Do I know you, sir?"
"Not yet. The name is Jackson Pinter." He came to stand directly across the table and bent forward over it to offer his hand to Lord Basto, forcing the viscount to release her hand to take it. "Some would call me Mrs. Plumtree's 'lackey,'" he added with a side glance at Celia. "Though I work for Lord Stoneville."
She colored, remembering the conversation they'd had a few months ago, when she'd called him that. He was clearly spoiling for a fight. No doubt he was still smarting over her pulling a pistol on him last night. "Mr. Pinter does investigations of all kinds," she explained. "For money."
Mr. Pinter's slate-gray eyes bore into her. "Some of us cannot live on our family's fortune, my lady."
"While some of us are very fond of biting the hand that feeds them." If he could throw her past words at her, then she could throw back what he'd said to her months ago.
She was surprised when a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "A hit direct, mad ~ Sabrina Jeffries

The bragging was the worst. I hear this in schools all over the country, in cafés and restaurants, in bars, on the Internet, for Pete's sake, on buses, on sidewalks: Women yammering about how little they eat. Oh, I'm Starving, I haven't eaten all day, I think I'll have a great big piece of lettuce, I'm not hungry, I don't like to eat in the morning (in the afternoon, in the evening, on Tuesdays, when my nails aren't painted, when my shin hurts, when it's raining, when it's sunny, on national holidays, after or before 2 A.M.). I heard it in the hospital, that terrible ironic whine from the chapped lips of women starving to death, But I'm not hun-greeee. To hear women tell it, we're never hungry. We live on little Ms. Pac-Man power pellets. Food makes us queasy, food makes us itchy, food is too messy, all I really like to eat is celery. To hear women tell it we're ethereal beings who eat with the greatest distaste, scraping scraps of food between our teeth with our upper lips curled.

For your edification, it's bullshit. ~ Marya Hornbacher

She turned to him with wide, shocked eyes. "Why did he..."
His lips twitched. No coarse language in front of the infants limited the ability to discuss the fountain of baby piss that had just arced halfway across the room.
"Twasn't you, darling. It's one of their favorite bath-time games.
"Something about the cool air on their naked...berries," he substituted at the last second....
"Do I have piddle in my hair?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling with laughter above her flushed cheeks.
"Not much," he assured her with a straight face. "You look almost becoming."...
"Decades from now, when our children ask how I fell in love with their mother, I'll say 'twas her sweet, gentle compliments during bath-time, and her fleetness of foot whilst dodging a flow of --- ~ Erica Ridley

I hated you and not because you'd gotten away and left me behind. I hated you because you took the light away." I grazed my lips against hers, breathing in her air. "My light, Nadya. You are my light." Uriel to Nadya- ~ Juliette Cross

Don't cry,' he breathed out so very close to my face. Just a little closer and I'd feel his lips ghosting against mine. "It's like a punch in my guts when you cry.'
"You shouldn't touch me,' I said, but despite my words, I didn't try to move away from his touch. A tear ran to my upper lip and I tasted it with the very tip of my tongue. Nolan's eyes darkened when he followed it, not straying from my mouth. I could see goosebumps over his skin on his neck and on his forearms. "Nolan? ~ Stephanie Witter

He seemed to be drinking in her face, looking at her instead of into her.
"Stop. Stop that. This isn't goodbye."
Blake pulled her left hand to his mouth and kissed her ring finger. "I'm still glad it's empty. He never deserved you. Of that, I'm very sure."
Livia saw moisture in his eyes. "You're saying goodbye. No. Here's what I'm sure of. I'll walk away from this house right now, wearing only what I have on my back and be happy. With you I can taste forever - it's right here." Livia pointed at her lips and then kissed his.
Blake allowed the kiss, but mumbled a question as well, "How many shotguns does he have?"
"Not enough to get me away from you." Livia traced his jaw.
Blake took her hand and kissed her palm, then her forehead, "Livia, go in there and let him talk to you. He's a father. I'd want to talk to my daughter at a moment like this. Let's give him that respect."
"I will not go in there. Where will you go?"
Livia felt a gentle tug on her heart. She was torn. She wanted to comfort her dad and get him to understand who Blake was, but in as little time as possible so she could get back to Blake.
"My inamorata, you know where I'll be: where I'll always be. Waiting. For you." Blake began putting the mask on.
Livia looked around wildly, feeling close to irrational. "I don't want you to go." These words were inadequate to express her need.
Blake smoothed her hair away from her face. "I've often wished I had a father. L ~ Debra Anastasia

I never expected to feel this way about someone." She stared at me, eyes wide nad lips parted as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. I stood and ran over to the dresser, pulling the box from the drawer and carrying it over to her. When I opened the box and let her see my grandmother's antique diamond and sapphire ring, she clammed a hand over her mouth. "I want to be married," I said again. Her silence was unnerving, and fuck, I'd completely botched this with my rambling nonsense. "Married to you, I mean." Her eyes filled with tears and she held them, unblinking. "You.Are such.An ass. ~ Christina Lauren

Katarina wasn't afraid of Baden. Not anymore.

He took a step to the side, intending to move around her. Oh, no. She flattened her hands on his shoulders, keeping him in place.

"I want to know what's wrong with you." She said. "Tell me."

He snapped his teeth at her in a show of dominance. "You think you want to know my problem. You're wrong."

Her tone dry, she said, "I'm so glad you know my mind better than I do."

"Very well. I need sex." He threw the words at her as if they were weapons. "Badly."

Whoa. Blindside!

Heart pounding, she jerked her hands away from him. "Sex...from me?"

"Yesss." A hiss. "Only from you."

Only. Amazing how one little word could send pleasure soaring through her, warming her. "You told me never to touch you." Which she'd just done, she realized. My bad.

"I've changed my mind." His gaze dropped, lingered on her lips.

Burning her... "But you and I...we're a different species." As if that mattered to her body. Gimme!


He took a step closer, invading her personal space. "We'll fit, I promise you."


Tristo hrmenych! The raspy quality of his voice, all smoke and gravel...she shivered with longing. Must resist his allure.

But...but...why? Before she'd committed to Peter, she'd dated around, had made out in movie theaters, cars and on couches. She'd liked kissing and touching and "riding the belt buckle," as ~ Gena Showalter

I walk outside and the green on the trees seems greener, so potent I can almost taste it. Maybe I can taste it, and it is like the grass I decided to chew when I was a child just to see what it was like. I almost fall down the stairs because of the swaying and burst into laughter when the grass tickles my bare feet. I wander toward the orchard.
"Four!" I call out. Why am I calling out a number? Oh yes. Because that's his name. I call out again. "Four! Where are you?"
"Tris?" says a voice from the trees on my right. It almost sounds like the tree is talking to me. I giggle, but of course it's just Tobias, ducking under a branch.
I run toward him, and the ground lurches to the side, so I almost fall. His hand touches my waist, steadies me. The touch sends a shock through my body, and all my insides burn like his fingers ignited them. I pull closer to him, pressing my body against his, and lift my head to kiss him.
"What did they--" he starts, but I stop him with my lips. He kisses me back, but too quickly, so I sigh heavily.
"That was lame," I say. "Okay, no it wasn't, but…"
I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him again, and he presses his finger to my lips to stop me.
"Tris," he says. "What did they do to you? You're acting like a lunatic."
"That's not very nice of you to say," I say. "They put me in a good mood, that's all. And now I really want to kiss you, so if you could just relax--"
"I'm not going to kiss you. I'm going to figure ou ~ Veronica Roth

For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying. ~ Abraham Joshua Heschel

Dude, what're you waiting for?" Carlos calls. "Plant one on her."
I lift my eyes and am shocked to see Brandon is staring at my mouth. He swallows audibly and flicks his gaze to mine. the emotions darkening the soft green color are too confusing to name.
Does he want to back out?
An exhale of breath leaves Brandon's lips, almost like a laugh, and he scoots closer to me on the blanket. I twist my legs under myself, sitting tall as I face him. He cups my chin and tilts it toward him, drowning me in the now dark-green depths of his eyes, the cologne I gave him for his birthday filling my head. It's woodsy and yummy and I always loved how it smelled on the store testers, but on Brandon, it's even sexier. My eyes flutter closed, and I inhale again, this time slowly. Goose bumps prickle my arms, and my head gets fuzzy.
Brandon slides his hand down the column of my neck and brings the other up, threading his fingers through the hair at my nape. His breath fans across my cheek, and everything south of my bellybutton squeezes tight.
When his mouth first meets mine, it's hesitant, questioning. But as I move my lips with his, he quickly grows bolder, coaxing them apart.
Desire, pure and raw, electrifies my veins as his tongue sweeps my mouth. A whimpering sound springs from my chest, and instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Needing more. My teeth graze his full bottom lip, and I pull it, sucking on it gently.
He moans and ~ Rachel Harris

Maloney looked around my room and nodded like he approved of the extravagance surrounding him: the inch-thick carpet with its diamond designs, the half moon flock of the wallpaper, and the antique furniture, polished to a museum quality shine. The two goons he brought with him flanked the door, equally impressed, I could tell by their dropped jaws and roving, wanton eyes. One of them set a briefcase on the floor beside him. Finally Maloney's eyes found me, and his expression turned from amazement to shock.
"I didn't expect you to be
"
"A Vampire?" I asked, feeling the touch of a smile form on my lips. ~ Craig Jones

Don't worry, Eve, whatever we end up doing, I'm not leaving you. Not until I teach you how to fire a gun, anyway." Jake snorted loudly. Avery lifted his head and gave him a dirty look. "Do you think that's funny? Eve needs to know how to protect herself." His smile twisted. "A woman with a gun is a bad idea, boy. You'd be putting all our lives at risk." "Only your life," I muttered under my breath. From the way his lips twitched further, I knew he had heard me. ~ Karina Halle

Without realizing what she was doing and more on an impulse than anything else, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a simple, yet firm kiss and she pulled back after only a moment. But it sent a thrill through her.
He leaned down for another. But she put her finger on his lips to stop him.
"That was my reward to you," she said as they danced. "Don't squander it."
"Reward? he asked still seeming both surprised and delighted at this unexpected attention. "What for?"
"Why for living, Vaelros. And for doing so much else to help me. I will have you rewarded in state as well. But that was just from me."
She saw Vaelros flush and she gave him a brilliant smile. "You don't like my reward?" she asked.
"I do!" he replied. "I want only to learn how to earn more."
The music was fading. The song was ending. Luthiel stepped back and let her hands drop.
"A mysterious thing, my heart," she said. ~ Robert Fanney

Paralytic

It happens. Will it go on? ----
My mind a rock,
No fingers to grip, no tongue,
My god the iron lung

That loves me, pumps
My two
Dust bags in and out,
Will not

Let me relapse
While the day outside glides by like ticker tape.
The night brings violets,
Tapestries of eyes,

Lights,
The soft anonymous
Talkers: 'You all right?'
The starched, inaccessible breast.

Dead egg, I lie
Whole
On a whole world I cannot touch,
At the white, tight

Drum of my sleeping couch
Photographs visit me ----
My wife, dead and flat, in 1920 furs,
Mouth full of pearls,

Two girls
As flat as she, who whisper 'We're your daughters.'
The still waters
Wrap my lips,

Eyes, nose and ears,
A clear
Cellophane I cannot crack.
On my bare back

I smile, a buddha, all
Wants, desire
Falling from me like rings
Hugging their lights.

The claw
Of the magnolia,
Drunk on its own scents,
Asks nothing of life. ~ Sylvia Plath

He moved his head closer to mine and then stopped, his lips a few millimetres away from mine. I couldn't breathe, my heart was racing, but not from the usual fear I had. It was because I wanted to kiss him ~ Kirsty Moseley

You once said you would like to sit beside me while I write. Listen, in that case I could not write (I can't do much, anyway), but in that case I could not write at all. For writing means revealing oneself to excess; that utmost of selfrevelation and surrender, in which a human being, when involved with others, would feel he was losing himself, and from which, therefore, he will always shrink as long as he is in his right mind - for everyone wants to live as long as he is alive - even that degree of selfrevelation and surrender is not enough for writing. Writing that springs from the surface of existence - when there is no other way and the deeper wells have dried up - is nothing, and collapses the moment a truer emotion makes that surface shake. This is why one can never be alone enough when one writes, why there can never be enough silence around one when one writes, why even night is not night enough. This is why there is never enough time at one's disposal, for the roads are long and it is easy to go astray, there are even times when one becomes afraid and has the desire - even without any constraint or enticement - to run back (a desire always severely punished later on), how much more so if one were suddenly to receive a kiss from the most beloved lips! I have often thought that the best mode of life for me would be to sit in the innermost room of a spacious locked cellar with my writing things and a lamp. Food would be brought and always put down far away from my roo ~ Franz Kafka

What in the sodding Dark happened back there on Aarden? What did you find?"

He stared at her hand for a long moment. His cheek muscle bunched rhythmically, a tell she had learned meant he was struggling over some internal debate. Sigel's Wives burned down from above; Sherp went on snoring away, and Scow appeared to be giving chase again. Mung, Voth and Rantham hadn't moved from where they lay in some time, either, and Biiko was at his post. This was about as alone as they could ever hope to be.

She reached up with her other hand, feather-soft, touched his cheek, his chin. It was rough with stubble, the same fiery copper-and-chestnut as his hair. His jaw stopped twitching and he closed his eyes, but did not resist as she gently turned his head to face her. She could hear the subtle trembling in his breathing and leaned closer, licked her cracked lips.

"Triistan, please...tell me what terrible secret you are guarding..." she whispered, barely a breath really, but his eyes snapped open as if she'd struck him. He looked so sad.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Then he was standing, gently disengaging himself from her, and moving towards Biiko where he stood his watch on the other side of the launch. He paused a moment at the mainmast and she thought he might come back, but he only turned his head, speaking over his shoulder without looking at her. His voice was heavy with sorrow.

"Please don't take my journal again." Without botheri ~ T.B. Schmid

She clung to the ropes. "I should go back. This was a stupid idea."

"Wait until you see Savannah from up here." He clasped her other wrist, too. "Let go, Skye. I won't let you fall."

She looked up into his eyes. "Putting my life in your hands is more trust than I intended on a first date."

His lips twitched into a tentative smile. "Didn't know we were on a date. ~ Lisa Kessler

I mean, we don't have to worry about it until winter, anyway," she said. "I was just wondering if you felt cured."
I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't feel cured. I felt like what Cole said - almost cured. A war survivor with a phantom limb. I still felt that wolf that I'd been: living in my cells, sleeping uneasily, waiting to be coaxed out by weather or a rush of adrenaline or a needle in my veins. I didn't know if that was real or suggested. I didn't know if one day I would feel secure in my skin, taking my human body for granted.
"You look cured," Grace said. Just her face was visible at the end of the shower curtain, looking in at me. She grinned and I yelled. Grace reached in just far enough to shut off the tap.
"I'm afraid," she said, whipping the shower curtain open all the way and presenting me with my towel, "this is the sort of thing you'll have to put up with in your old age." I stood there, dripping, feeling utterly ridiculous, Grace standing opposite, smiling with her challenge. There was nothing for it but to get over the awkwardness. Instead of taking the towel, I took her chin with my wet fingers and kissed her. Water from my hair ran down my cheeks and onto our lips. I was getting her shirt all wet, but she didn't seem to mind. A lifetime of this seemed rather appealing. I said gallantly, "That better be a promise. ~ Maggie Stiefvater