Best 2267 quotes in «kissing quotes» category

manful potency as masterful kissers requires fecundity with voluminous whiskers

Man overboard,” he murmurs, wrapping me up in his arms and we’re laughing and then the laughing dies out because who knew kissing could be like this, could so alter the landscape within, tipping over oceans, sending rivers up mountains, unpouring the rain.

Max." Fang let go of my hand. "Right now, it's really all about—us." He swooped down to the right in a big semicircle, ending facing me. Slowly we climbed upward, until we were almost vertical, flying straight up to the sun. While carefully synchronizing our wings—they almost touched—Fang leaned in, gently put one hand behind my neck, and kissed me. It was just about as close to heaven as I'll ever get, I guess. I closed my eyes, lost in the feeling of flying and kissing and being with the one person in the world I completely, utterly trusted. When we finally broke apart, we looked down at the others, who were way far below us now. Angel was shading her eyes, looking up at us with a big smile. She was sitting on a dolphin's back, and I hoped soon someone would explain to the dolphin that he shouldn't let Angel take advantage of his good nature. Still looking up at us, Angel gave us a big thumbs-up. "She approves," Fang said with a hint of amusement. "Jeez," I wondered aloud. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Max, you can change your mind.” His voice was like autumn leaves dropping lightly onto the ground. “I don’t know how.” Then my throat felt tight, and I rubbed my fists against my eyes. I dropped my face onto my arms, crossed over my knees. This sucked! I wanted to be back with the oth- Fang’s hand gently smoothed my hair off my neck. My breath froze in my chest, and every sense seemed hyperalert. His hand stroked my hair again, so softly, and then trailed across my neck and shoulder and down my back, making me shiver. I looked up. “What the heck are you doing?” “Helping you change your mind,” he whispered, and then he leaned over, tilted my chin up, and kissed me.

Maybe it was that I was broken. Maybe it was just that I was out of my mind. But it occurred to me that I was going to kiss him. The thought just arrived, certain knowledge, delivered from some greater, more knowledgeable place. I was going to kiss him. Stephen would not want to kiss me. He would back up in horror. And yet, I was still going to do it. I reached over, and I put my hand against his chest, then I moved closer. I could feel just the very tips of the gentle stubble on his cheek brushing against my skin. “Rory,” he said. But it was a quiet protest, and it went nowhere. For the first few seconds, he didn’t move—he accepted the kiss like you might accept a spoonful of medicine. Then I heard it, a sigh, like he had finally set down a heavy weight. “I was pretty sure we were both kind of terrified, but I was completely sure that we were both doing this. We kissed slowly, very deliberately, coming together and then pulling apart and looking at each other. Then each kiss got longer, and then it didn’t stop. Stephen put his hand just under the edge of my shirt, holding it on the spot where the scar was. Sometimes the skin around the scar got cold—now it was warm. Now it was alive.

Maybe it was that I was broken. Maybe it was just that I was out of my mind. But it occurred to me that I was going to kiss him. The thought just arrived, certain knowledge delivered from some greater, more knowledgeable place. I was going to kiss him.

Mile's fingers pressed into the small of my back. "Basorexia," he mumbled. "Gesundheit." He laughed. "It's an overwhelming desire to kiss." "I thought you weren't good at figuring out what you felt." "I'm probably using the word in the wrong context. But I'm pretty sure that's what this is.

Miss Sydney, there is just one more thing." Sophia paused before leaving. "Yes, sir?" He reached for her, his hand sliding around the back of her neck. Sophia was too startled to move or breathe, her entire body stiffening as his head lowered to hers. He touched her only with his lips and with his hand at her nape, but she was as helpless as if she had been bound to him with iron chains. There had been no time to prepare herself... she was defenseless and stunned, unable to withhold her response. At first his lips were gentle, exquisitely careful, as if he feared bruising her. Then he coaxed her to give him more, his mouth settling more firmly on hers. The taste of him, his intimate flavor laced with the hint of coffee, affected her like a drug. The tip of his tongue slid past her teeth in silken exploration. He tasted the interior of her mouth, stroked the slick insides of her cheeks. Anthony had never kissed her like this, feeding her rising passion as if he were layering kindling on a blaze. Devastated by his skill, Sophia swayed dizzily and clutched his hard neck. Oh, if only he would hold her tightly and lock her full length against his... but he still touched her only with that one hand, and consumed her mouth with patient hunger. Sensing the force of his passion, held so securely in check, Sophia instinctively sought a way to release it. Her hands fluttered to the sides of his face, stroking the bristle of his cheeks and jaw. Ross made a quiet sound in his throat. Suddenly he took hold of her shoulders and eased her away from his body, ignoring her whimpering protest. Sophia's gaze locked with his in a moment of searing wonder. The stillness was broken only by their panting breaths. No man had ever looked at Sophia that way, as if he could eat her with his gaze, as if he wanted to possess every inch of her body and every flicker of her soul. She was frightened by the power of her response to him, the unmentionable desires that shocked her.

Mitch---" "All right, baby, I'll shut you up." Then he did, his head slanting and his lips taking mine in a repeat performance of the open-mouthed, knock my socks off, rock my world, best kiss in the history of all time.

Most humans expressed affection by pressing their lips together, a simple act, so why would anyone feel the need to research the process?

Most people are lucky enough to have a few electrifying kissing experiences in their lifetimes, which make you believe in God, the reality of soul mates, or at least the power of sexual chemistry [Cram,Cusi, "‘One Life to Live’ and 14 Beautiful Boys to Kiss," Cafe, January 14, 2015].

My first kiss as a single woman. It sent a tingle sprinting down my spine like a tingle panther.

Most people do kiss and tell; most of them just don’t tell many people.

My whole body sank forward into his arms. His lips moved against mine, exploring my mouth so gently. I tried to mimic his movements--slowly, uncertainly, until I didn't have to think about it at all. It just felt right. He let out a soft moan at my reaction and cupped his hands behind my head, pulling me closer until I couldn't tell where my mouth ended and his began. A liquid sensation swooped throughout my stomach. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever felt and it kept growing, the vibrating heat expanding outward. I was surprised I was still able to stand.

My mouth had sought his, and his had grown as eager as mine. There was no fairy-tale music, but there was something there. And it had quickly hardened against my thigh.

'My problem was comparatively simple,' Marcus said. 'One kiss was enough to solve it. But that doesn't mean one kiss is enough to wake everyone up and end every nightmare. [...] That's okay,' Marcus whispered to him. 'One kiss doesn't need to be enough to let you know that the nightmare is really over.' Liam swallowed rapidly, the world around him becoming embarrassingly misty. 'I'm not going anywhere,' Marcus promised. 'There'll be as many kisses as you need.' Tilting Liam's head back, Marcus dipped his head and brought their lips together one more time. Liam sighed softly into the kiss and, very slowly, woke up just a little bit more.

Never pass up the chance to be kissing someone. It's the worst kind of regret.

Never had we ever kissed as lovers; if we touched lips it was as brother and sister. In one moment of emotion, our lips fell together by accident, but we quickly removed ourselves as though we were children touching glass with dirty hands.

Nodding, Parker ate. “He’s an exceptional kisser.” “He really is. He . . . How do you know?” When Parker just smiled, Emma’s jaw dropped. “You? You and Jack? When? How?” “I think it’s disgusting,” Mac muttered. “Yet another best pal moving on my imaginary ex.” “Two kisses, my first year at Yale, after we ran into each other at a party and he walked me back to the dorm. It was nice. Very nice. But as exceptional a kisser as he is, it was too much like kissing my brother. And as exceptional a kisser as I am, I believe he felt it was too much like kissing his sister. And that’s how we left it. I gather that wasn’t an issue for you and Jack.

Of course. If you're not afraid of kissing someone, they're not worth kissing.

None of them are real to me.” He paused again, placing a hand flat against the door. “You are the only real thing in my life.” Radu gasped with the sheer physical pain the words sent through him. But the sound of his agony was covered by that of the door opening. Mehmed reached in and pulled Lada out to him, and then his mouth was on hers and his hands were in her hair and he was holding her so tightly, so tightly, and they stumbled back into Lada’s room and closed the door. Radu tripped forward, feet dragging, until he stood outside the room. He wanted to be inside it. He wanted to be the only real thing to Mehmed, just as Mehmed was the only real thing to him. He wanted— No, please, no. Yes. He wanted Mehmed to look at him the way he had looked at Lada. He wanted Mehmed to kiss him the way he had kissed Lada. He wanted to be Lada. No, he did not. He wanted to be himself, and he wanted Mehmed to love him for being himself. His question, the question of Mehmed, was finally answered, piercing him and leaving him shaking, silent, on the floor. He did not want this answer.

Not bad”? Are you kidding me? He looks like that and his kissing skills are “not bad”? You’re killing me here.

Oh how I had underestimated tender kisses.

Oh hell no, I thought. I am not wasting my first kiss on some guy who's skipping out on our first date.

Oh, those warm days of stumbling words; blinded eyes, embracing in sweet slow dances and sipping courage from a bottle for sneaking kisses.

Once she kissed me, my heart slowed, and every muscle in my body relaxed. How much I needed her terrified me. -pg 252/ARC

Ô, Muse of the Heart’s Passion, let me relive my Love’s memory, to remember her body, so brave and so free, and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me, and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me, Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!

Oliver Cromwell banned kissing on Sundays---even for married couples---on pain of a prison sentence.

One afternoon they were in the garden, where Seb was telling her about the agonies of withdrawal he had suffered when he gave up cigarettes, when he suddenly broke off talking and grabbed Polly and kissed her. It was the first time anyone had done that to Polly. She should have asked Nina about it, she thought wryly, as Seb’s face met hers and their noses seemed to get tangled up. It was not much fun. She wondered whether to wriggle loose, but See was breathing heavily and passionately and seemed to be enjoying it so much that it brought Polly’s annoying soft-heartedness out. She stood there and let him lay his mouth against hers, and tried to decide if you kept your eyes open or shut them, and in the end she settled for one of each. What a funny thing to invent to do! she thought. What do people see in it? (p. 271)

Our eyes will know the heavens if our lips stay for each other.

Ooo la la! That kiss was fine, and it was full of all the words I didn't need to say.

Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.

Our lips now conjoin like the glittery coils of a wet snake dancing in the amazon. Kissing Nadia sends me into a savoring affair for that which is most delectable, always tasting the delicate layers that exist in her myriad of emotion. Always, Nadia’s opulent lips gratify and subdue by easing my sensitivity as she drags her fingers down my stomach like a tree scattering its roots. I now brush my lips over Nadia’s, dipping into her mouth like a brush that falls into a bucket of paint, osculating under this euphoric form of affection.

Passion lingers on a state of bliss Love loves you more when you kiss

Our tongues dancing with familiarity even though they’ve only just met.

Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess When did you feel your most euphoric kiss? Was I the source of your greatest bliss?

Resisting him has made the buildup to this more explosive. His tongue, his lips, his mouth seeking mine, it’s as natural and inevitable as magnets finding each other. I tried to be strong, I tried to hold back, but I know now it would’ve been impossible to keep up forever. His back hits the door. Our tongues tangle, and there’s no hesitance on his part. He dives in fully, and he tastes the same as I remember but better.

Perhaps you'll gave to kiss him again, if you're not sure. Gather more evidence. In the name of science.

Pucker up, Hollywood. By the time I’m finished with you, the neighbors are gonna need a cigarette.

Qu'est-ce que ton baiser? — Un lèchement de flamme

Realizing that he was waiting for an answer, she replied with a touch of impishness, "Aye." After a blink of surprise, Rhys hauled her up into his lap. His eyes glinted with amusement. "Mocking my accent, are you?" "No." A breathless giggle escaped her. "I like it. Very much." "Do you, then?" His tone had deepened. "I'll have to send you inside, now soon. Give me a kiss, cariad. One to make up for all the kisses I would have had from you tonight." She pressed her mouth to his, and his lips parted, letting her explore him with little flirting tastes. Realizing that he was letting her take the lead, she nudged him more fully open, enjoying the firm silken texture of his mouth. Tentatively she changed the angle of the kiss, and the fit was so lush and delicious that she locked her mouth onto his. She wanted to stay like this forever, caught in his lap with the mass of her skirts bunched all around them, her bottom sinking into the space between his muscular thighs. Gripping his shoulders, she hugged herself closer to the hard contours of his body. His chest moved in a forceful breath or two, like pumps from fireplace bellows, and he broke the kiss with a groan. A shaken laugh escaped him as her mouth continued to seek his. "No- Helen- ah, how you please me- we have to stop." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Before I take you here in this carriage." Befuddled, Helen asked, "It can be done in a carriage?" His color heightened, and he closed his eyes briefly, as if he'd been pushed to the limit of his endurance. "Aye." "But how-" "Don't ask me to explain, or I might end up showing you.

She ached for him to touch her. As much as her words said "we can't" and as much as she was saying "no" in her head, her heart was saying "please kiss me." "Please just grab me and kiss me before I can say no.

Sam's eyes studied my lips and I studied hers. We each leaned in closer until our foreheads were touching. It felt like currents of electricity were running through the two of us, making me feel like I was going to melt from the intensity.

Shane never knew how to address her friends' parents. She wanted to call her Mrs. Eliot's Mom, but knew that the cutesiness would not be appreciated. “Mrs. Kaspar” sounded too like a phone solicitor, which would not do after having kissed the circumference of her son's neck.

She didn't feel like a girl when he kissed her, but like fire in a girl's form, burning and hungry.

She gets on her tippy-toes and kisses him. Long, slow, deep. The kind of kiss where you can feel little pieces of your soul trading places as mouths open and breath mingles.

She blushed and I smiled when we saw the Magpie look at us while we kissed below the Acacia tree!

She had ridden that kiss better than she had ever ridden a surfboard. It didn’t matter if Russell was clueless about surfing. He certainly knew a thing or two about kissing.

She pressed her mouth to his throat, his shoulder, would have absorbed him into her skin if she'd known a way.

She kissed him like he was a warrior; she kissed him like she was a warrior.