Best 2267 quotes in «kissing quotes» category

I grew tense but hopeful when his eyes turned to my lips. I knew what that meant. Every woman did. However selfish and grossly out of place it was, I was okay with one kiss, more curious than frightened to discover what it is like to kiss a Reaper who could drain my life. Perhaps my motivation was to ridicule Fate by kissing the lips of Death himself. Or maybe I was cold, tired, and downright horny.

I had a dream about you. Again. In fact I've had so many dreams about you that I can almost feel your skin under my fingertips and your breath every time we kiss. This time when you pulled me closer, even though I couldn’t see you, I knew it was you. I've heard your footsteps, and recognized them instantly. I’d recognize them anywhere, among many others. The way I yearn for you, you are always expected. And now I expect you to do just that. Kiss me. This time I am asking for it, because I need to make sure I am awake.

I had a dream about you last night, for the millionth time! We did what we always do in my dreams. We talked, but we never made out. How come I still dream about you if we never freaking make out?

I had a dream about you. You were so cute, and I was holding you for a long time. We went for a walk, happily strutting down the street. We saw a couple others but they weren’t having as much fun as we were. We arrived back home and I gave you a kiss on the nose and a bone.

It’s quite pleasant, isn’t it?” “Kissing? I’m not sure I would use the word pleasant. Thoroughly unsettling, entirely vexing, and altogether—” “Wonderful.

I hope one day love will find you and kiss all the places in your soul that's been scarred

I judged you unfairly when I met you.” “But you still wanted to kiss me?” He shrugged, a smirk turning up the right corner of his mouth. “I’m a guy.

I kiss [her] even though I know that if you kiss a girl before you are married to her you might get AIDS.

I kissed him until everything that hurt inside me melted into a pool of black water so deep I couldn’t touch the bottom. As long as I was touching him, I wouldn’t drown.

I kiss her back. Because. . .well, she's so present. So alive. So magnanimous. And when she is kissing me, all the death of the last week disappears.

I leaned down and looked at his handsome face. I wanted to kiss him in a way that would remain soft and true on his lips, all the while help him from escaping the overwhelming sense of sadnes that he felt. I pressed forward and kissed him, tasting the saltiness of fish against his lips, and the disappointment that he held so very deeply inside. I kissed him long and wide, yet limp and yielding, pulling myself away from reality to only drown in the fantasy of our love. I touched his mouth in such a loving way, that not even his incapability to reach into my soul, could tear us away from exchanging such romance. He immediately gave into the kiss, his sadness slowly giving way to the moment that we so intimately shared. It amazed me what a merman could do, even when flowing tears streamed down his face. Through the bridge of kissing, I had healed him, and he had healed me in return.

I lean in and kiss him softly. His mouth moves lazily against mine, and I have to force myself to pull away.

I looked at him, into his warm gray eyes, and suddenly understood what he was trying to tell me. The message hidden beneath the words. You’re not alone. Because he understood. He understood how it felt to be abandoned. He understood the insults. Understood me. I pushed myself onto my tiptoes and kissed him-really kissed him. It was more than just a precursor to sex. There was no war between our mouths. My hips rested lightly beneath his, not pressed tightly. Our lips moved in soft, perfect harmony with each other. This time it meant something. What that something was, I didn’t know at the time, but I knew that there was a real connection between us. His hands stroked gently through my hair, his thumb grazing my cheek-still damp from crying earlier. And it didn’t feel sick or twisted or unnatural. Actually, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I slid off his shirt, and he pulled mine over my head. Then he laid me down on the bed. No rush. This time things were slow and earnest. This time I wasn’t looking for an escape. This time it was about him. About me. About honesty and compassion and everything I’d never expected to find in Wesley Rush. This time, when our bodies connected, it didn’t feel dirty or wrong. It felt horrifyingly right.

I loved the kiss. That's why I smiled at you. I loved it. I was embarrassed by how much I loved it. (Troy Summer)

I love you." lightning. Once it has forked, hot-white, from sky to earth, there is no going back. It's time. I feel it, I know it. My eyes on him, his on me, and both of us breathing, watching, tired of of waiting. Ky close his eyes, but mine are still open. what will it feel like, his lips on mine? Like a secret told, a promise kept? Like that line in the poem-a shower of all my days- silvery rain falling all around me, where the lighting meets the earth? The whistle blows below us and the moment breaks. We are safe. For now.

I’m not looking for fate. I’m seventeen. I’m looking for kissing, and to move forward a few paces on the game board. You know, do some Living. (With my lips.)

I'm willing to find out what this thing is going on between us. Are you?" "If we weren't outside," he says, "I'd show you--" I cut him off by grabbing the thick hair at the base of his neck and pulling that gorgeous head of his down. If we can't exactly have privacy right now, I'll settle for being real. Besides, everyone who we need to keep this a secret from is in school. Alex keeps his hands at his side, but when I part my lips, he groans against my mouth and his wrench drops to the ground with a loud clink. His strong hands wrap around me, making me feel protected. His velvet tongue mingles with mine, creating an unfamiliar melting sensation deep within my body. This is more than making out, it's . . . well, it feels like a lot more. His hands never stop moving; one circles my back while the other plays with my hair. Alex isn't the only one exploring. My hands are roving all over him, feeling his muscles tense beneath my hands and heightening my awareness of him. I touch his jaw and the roughness of a day's growth scratches my skin

I never thought I would feel what it's like to be in love again." She looked up at him, startled. Had he said in love? She couldn't control the foolish smile spreading across her cheeks. "Maybe we can be together someday," he whispered. "Someday?" she whispered. "You don't stay in this form forever," he said. "And if the Atrox is defeated..." He didn't complete the sentence. He leaned forward and started to press his lips against hers. "If the Atrox defeated what?" she asked, her lips brushing the words against his mouth. "Then we can be together." He started to press against her but pulled back suddenly. "You're too young to understand how much you mean to me." "Well, I'm not centuries old yet," she added defensively. "Not yet," he chuckled and pulled her close against him. He felt like flesh and bone. She opened her eyes. His skin looked young. His eyes were bright and clear. "Have you finished checking?" he asked, his breath caressing her cheeks. She closed her eyes and he kissed her. She parted her lips and felt his tongue brush lightly against hers. She leaned against him, forgetting all her problems and let herself feel the comfort of his arms around her. Maybe everything would turn out all right.

In order to be happy, every person must have: 1. Something meaningful to do. 2. Someone to love. (Friends and family and pets all count.) 3. Something to look forward to. It's really that simple.

Insta-love isn’t something that happens in real life. It happens in the books I read, but not in the world I live. Though here stands this beautiful, sexy, funny, sweet and amazing guy who has done everything short of professing love at first sight to me and I’m still standing here like a pair of lungs suffocating, needing him in order to breathe.

in the afterglow of an evening rain i lay down in the grass and think of you my body aches like an after-kiss breaking in soft fires and wildflowers my dear, i will always be this tender for you.

In the meantime, the porter's gone. How much time until we reach our next stop?' I glanced at my wristwatch, an absurd fluttery feeling in my stomach. 'Nearly an hour.' 'Excellent,' he said, lowering his mouth again to mine. 'Let's make the most of it.' And so we did.

I promised myself that we’d have this little air-clearing chat today without my tongue ending up in your mouth.

I raise my face to his, ready for the crush of his lips against mine, wanting to share more than these nervous breaths.

I put down my phone... Hugged her from behind… Kissed the back of her neck... Our fingers entwined… Bliss…

I said he kissed me. Really kissed me. It rocked me to my soul. It was brutal. It was brilliant. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die.

I think I know what will help you chill.” The way his eyes devoured me hinted I shouldn’t take the bait, but I did anyhow. “And what would that be?” Noah pressed his body into mine, pushing me against the lockers. “Kissing.” I held my books close to my chest and fought the urge to drop them and pull him close. But that would only encourage his behavior, and good God, bring on his fantastic kissing. Fantastic or not, kissing in public would definitely mean detention and a tardy slip. I ducked underneath his arm and breathed in fresh air, welcoming any scent that didn’t remind me of him. Noah caught up to me, slowing his pace to mine. “You know, you may have never noticed, but we have calculus together,” he said. “You could have waited for me.” “And give you the chance to drag me into the janitor’s closet?

it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing.

... it is not the taste considered in itself, that we hold to our lips, and you can no more understand the virtues of a wine through a blind tasting than you could understand the virtues of a woman through a blindfold kiss.

It isn’t just the way she feels, or smells, or tastes; it’s the way she sighs into my mouth, like: finally. Like: you found me. Like: this is everything I dreamed it would be. How do you ever stop kissing a girl like that? Maybe it’s just that simple, you idiot, I think as our tongues sweep over each other in lazy, relaxing rhythm, low tide on a calm day. You don’t.

It is wonderful, this whole business of tickling and kissing God every night.

It's hard not to respond when a master of the art of kissing is laying one on you.

It took seven languages to make me; it would have been nice if I could have spoken just one. But I couldn't, so he leaned down and kissed me.

It was a small ceremony at the town hall, and they didn't exchange wedding rings, but they kissed for so long at the counter in the hall of records that they were asked to leave.

It was pleasant - and the sense of otherness was nice, that there were two people involved in this process, that we were each giving something to the other.

I’ve become your heartbeat making you mine Upon every kiss of passion our souls shine

I've hated Snowflake for so long," she says. "But then I met you. And you're the person entire town has trashed, a person belonging to the group I've been raised to believe is evil, and you're the only person who is able to make me feel as if every part of me is beautiful." She is beautiful. Inside and out. My fingers tunnel into her hair again, but this time, I gently knot them in. My heart beats hard, and I open my mouth, hoping that doing so will force the right words. That I can explain being near her makes everything that's impossible about me seem possible. But the words become lodged in my throat and silence paralyzes my tongue. Breanna blinks and the hope that had been on her face disappears as she misreads my hesitation. Her hold on me loosens and she ducks her head. "Don't listen to me. I say too much around you. I was being stupid I..." More words meant to wipe away her admission spill from her mouth, but I'm not listening. My grip on her hair tightens, I lower my lips to hers and I kiss Breanna Miller.

I want to kiss you hard enough to matter

I want to kiss you. I want to so badly I can barely think of anything else. When you enter a room it’s my only thought, and it torments me night and day.

"Was it okay?" he asked. I smiled. "Better than okay." "So I won my pass to date two?" "You did." "Good" His face lowered toward mine and I knew what was coming. I knew it. But when his lips touched mine, I still jumped. "S-sorry, I—I" "Skittish as a cat," he murmured.

I wasn’t aware of just how close he’d moved to me until now. So many details came into focus. The shape of his lips, the line of his neck. “I’m not dangerous,” I breathed. He brought his face toward mine. “You are to me.” And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the world around me faded. The noise, the smoke . . . it was gone. All that mattered was the taste of his mouth, a mix of cloves and mints. There was a fierceness in his kiss, a desperation . . . and I answered, just as hungry for him. I didn’t stop him when he pulled me closer, so that I almost sat on his lap. I’d never been wrapped around someone’s body like that, and I was shocked at how eagerly mine responded. His arm went around my waist, pulling me onto him further, and his other hand slid up the back of my neck, getting entangled in my hair. He took his lips away from my mouth, gently trailing kisses down to my neck. I tipped my head back, gasping when the intensity returned to his mouth. There was an animalistic quality that sent shock waves through the rest of my body.

I will only be offended if you refuse to kiss me again, as then I'll be convinced I'm a failure at it.

Kissing Yasir was like feeling the safest soul on earth. The touch of his lips felt like he touched my soul. It took away all the pain and agony I had been enduring for the past six years.

Kiss me" “You’re a fucking nightmare.” “Kiss me.” “You’re ruining my life.” “Kiss me, Jethro. Kiss me.

I knelt and locked the door. I locked the door locking the world and time outside. I stretched my body across the mattress and Saskia drew in close to me and placed her open hand on my chest, her mouth near my shoulder; her breath, my breath blew out the candle, and I held my lost Wanderess with tenderness until sweet sleep overcame us.

I'll be the judge of that, I whispered, pressing my lips into his and, just like that, we were the only people on the dance floor. The only people in the universe. Jude was the sickness I didn't want to be cured of. He was the intoxicant I never wanted to be clear of.

I’m enjoying his shortness of breath and his moans as I kiss his skin. I like exploring his hardened body, because I’ve never experienced it before. It’s new and exciting and hotter than I ever anticipated.

I'm kissing you because sometimes I can't not kiss you.

I'm not that good of an actor to fake something like that.

I never dreamed you would be this beautiful," he said quietly, trembling slightly, his baritone voice resonating low and intimate as he scanned the length of her body. "What do you m-m-" she began, her voice swallowed by another kiss. This one was more insistent, and she felt her skin jump. Her hips rocked, her stomach tensed at the firmer press of his mouth against hers. It was only once she leaned into him that she felt something hard and hot pressed against her hip, eliciting a soft groan into her mouth and a shiver that moved like a wave along his entire body. She mewled a wordless question against his lips, wanting to ask who he was. His only response was to skim his tongue across her teeth until they opened, letting him taste her. Kore heard him sigh as his hand traced up her ribs and settled firmly on her breast. Her nipple instantly tightened under his palm and she cried into his mouth at the unanticipated pleasure of it. He languorously stroked her tongue with his and tasted of ancient groves and deep, warm earth, and the cold, faint sweetness of a foreign flower she knew but couldn't quite place. With a gasp she broke off the kiss to look up at him again, her face and neck flushed, her lips tingling, her heart pounding. The cool night air moved over her hot skin. He smiled down at her again. "You taste exquisite.