Best 151 quotes in «passionate love quotes» category

A deep woman is a universe to explore, she is very challenging; but she is life.

Above all her voice moved him. He had not known that an accent seduced his emotions. But he’d always been drawn to those with an accent. Be it woman or man. It sounded nicer. A lavender husk. More proper, elegant. American English was clumsy, clipped, flat. No lilt, nothing guttural, boring, unpleasant. He had no exotic fetishes. His attuned ear seemed to be remembering voices from another life, another time. He could never escape the sense that he’d lost a life dear to him and that life was lived in another language.

Those who live passionately teach us how to love. Those who love passionately teach us how to live.

After a while McKenna rested on his side to watch her. He seemed to have regained control over himself, though his eyes were still bright with unspoken passion. Aline shook her head with a wistful smile. "No one will ever look at me the way you do. As if you love me with every part of yourself." Slowly he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's how you look at me too.

A heart given freely is the most vulnerable and selfless thing one can offer another human being. It can be as fragile and needy as a newly born infant, or as solid and self-supporting as a granite pillar, yet it is the hands of the recipient that determines its ultimate fate.

Ah, lust. It makes us forget anything we want to. The greatest relaxant, the greatest stimulant.

All I wanted was to merge with the same person who had broken me, thinking that he was the only one who could fill in all the little crevices making me feel whole again.

Anything could happen here and who would know? It was a new place to me, but timeless in its own right. Regn had never stood here. All these years since and we'd been so close to 'this' obscurity. Its hidden proximity is what disquieted.

A sensual lifestyle makes most sense for my daily happiness.

A soft mist blew around them. Raindrops glistened in his hair, shimmering under the pale glow of the light post. His eyes were shadowed beneath wispy fringes, but the silver in them glinted like pools of liquid mercury. Her breath caught. It must have made a sound because his fingers tightened. His shaky exhale whispered across her face. “This,” he whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “Is why you are so bad for me.

A woman in love respects and raises up her man. She is his constant source of support. She matches his heart and passions with her own. She sees the very best in him, even when he does not. She is his foundation; what he returns home to.

Deepness may not always be sadness. Sadness is madness. Madness is love. Love comes with a deadline. So love is not sadness. Love is deepness mixed with madness.

Can you feel it? I asked her... my heart beating so hard, so strong that wants to get out of my chest, and travel trough the distance just to feel your heart beating so close to join on a single rhythm.

Commitment isn't scary; wasting years of my life with someone who isn't in touch with their own sensuality is.

Divine love" "Don't Leave me, ONLY To carry my body on my two feet I need you

And being an obsessive man he did things normal men did not! Like he knew the number of strands of hair that her eye-lashes had!

Come be the stampede of emotion standing on this dancing ocean, as I empty out this flood within, down to the last drop of this naked pen.

Desire For Thee" My desire to love thee is just like a tree, must have one root but several branches of fruit I want to make you feel as if you are horizon i steal you are as free as wind where my love flows in swing i see thee in glaze shadow around a graceful presence on passion ground that is "THEE" you spark everywhere Everywhere am far and near.

Don't look into my eyes for more than a second; And then blame me for making you fall.

Excuse me,’ I said cheerily. ‘Is the job still going?’ I pointed to the notice. ‘Of course,’ he said, looking back at me with a warm smile. I think he was as hopeful as I was about where this could lead to. ‘We need all the hands we can get.’ I looked at the tight swell of his shirt against his chest, and thought, 'Mmm, yes, I can imagine my hands getting your fucking clothes off right now.

Does your relationship match your sensuality? If it doesn't, you've settled.

Even if the romantic concept of love loses its splendor and meaning, I’ll continue to love by engaging in a Sisyphean task of finding its sublime beauty from interminable meaninglessness, madness, and misery of loving.

Do it again," she whispered, tilting her head, offering her mouth to him. Staring down at her swollen bottom lip, he gave it a little lick. A small, soft moan sounded from the back of her throat. "Ask nicely," he whispered. "Please." She gave a lock of hair at his neck an impatient tug. He came undone. Delving his tongue inside her sweet mouth, he walked her backward until her back met one of the pillars. With one hand cradling the back of her head for protection, his other hand held her hip immobilized, under his control. Rhythmically, he sank his tongue into her honeyed depths, mimicking the motion of making love. She whimpered, the sound a desperate plea. Her fingers threaded through the damp hair at the base of his neck; her other hand clutched at his forearm. He squeezed her hip, his long fingers digging into her soft bottom as he rocked her into his arousal. For several moments, she ground her hips against him as he plundered her mouth. The kiss was no longer enough. He wanted to take her. Right here, right now. His fingertips trailed down the back of her neck to caress her shoulder, her arm, her breast. His breath hitched when she pushed herself more firmly into his hand. She wanted his touch. He complied of course: he would never deny her. Gently he kneaded her through the fabric of her dress, purposely passing his thumb over the hardened tip. She made a small sound of pleasure that nearly pushed him over the edge. The manor, the rain, the mud disappeared. Reason and practicality were momentarily suspended. Nothing mattered in those moments. Nothing but the ever-escalating power of their passion.

Enraptured by the words that I craft in my sentences, she loses herself unknowingly and surrenders herself to my poetry!

For love I have invested my life with no return

For me love is when I don't limit you, I put you on the rainbows...... beyond eternity of time and destiny

For your love I have uprooted all my desires, I am no more demanding...

Grace." He drew out the word so it became a long, deep, guttural growl. A sound as primitive as a lion's roar for its mate. Her skin prickled with animal awareness and the breath caught in her throat. Every drop of moisture evaporated from her mouth. Low in her belly, blood began to beat slow and hard with anticipation. Her face must have betrayed her unfurling arousal. Or perhaps, like her, he reacted to the sudden charge in the air, as electric as the pause before a lightning strike. Still without shifting his fierce focus, he set down the box he carried. Then he reached to close the doors and slide the bolt across. Any doubt as to his purpose fled. A delicious thrill rippled through her. The summerhouse was raised on a platform so the windows opened above eye height. With the doors locked, it was a bower designed for private sin. Sin was clearly his aim. Now she looked more closely, she realized it wasn't anger that tightened the skin over the bones of his face. It was incendiary hunger. She should protest. Question. Demand he tell her why he was here. But overwhelming need kept her silent and pinned to the window seat.

He came to read; two or three books are lying open: history and poetry. But after just ten minutes of reading he lets them drop. There on the sofa he falls asleep. He truly is devoted to reading- but he is twenty-three years old, and very handsome. And just this afternoon, Eros surged within his perfect limbs and on his lips. Into his beautiful flesh came the heat of passion, and there was no foolish embarrassment about the form that pleasure took..

He could not fit in my imagination and I was not fit for his Real and the conflict between imagination and real sadly made us apart

He closed the door behind us, and led me through to the back of the shop. ‘If you don’t mind, you can get changed in the stock cupboard,’ he said. ‘We’re not posh enough here to have staff changing rooms, but you’ll soon get used to it.’ ‘Oh, don’t worry, Chris,’ I said warmly. ‘I’m used to getting my clothes off in unusual places.

He couldn't believe that she had turned him away. Surely she couldn't honestly believe that they were incompatible. She might have been a virgin, but even she must have sensed that their interaction last night- and all the others, for that matter- was far from typical. Certainly their marriage would not suffer in the bedchamber. And, if the passion between them weren't enough, there was also their well-matched intelligence, humor, and maturity. Aside from all that, she was quite lovely. Soft in all the right places. Ralston let his thoughts linger... a man could spend years lost in her lush curves.

Find someone who will love your sensuality more than your body.

He looked at me, and then looked away quickly. But I could tell he was interested. I think my tight t-shirt might have had something to do with it. And the way I was pushing my breasts towards him, with an inviting smile on my face.

Her steel blue eyes captivated him at first glance and along with the alluring scent of jasmine surrounding her presence, he lost all sense of time and rhythm, and barely remembered the ensuing conversation. Thinking he had died and gone to heaven, the only thing that stuck in his memory, as they found themselves pressed urgently against the wall of her hotel room, was her name; Ginny.

He stopped breathing, literally stopped breathing for several seconds. His brain had stopped working as soon as she had unzipped his jeans. His heart was going into overdrive because somewhere in the last few minutes, it had forgotten how to beat in regular intervals. And now his lungs were giving in, blatantly refusing to take in any air. It was like every organ was confused and electrified by the sensations pounding through his body; like they were all shouting: “Hey, what’s going on down there, Penis?” But Penis was too wrapped up in Danny’s mouth to respond so they all just continued to malfunction.

He was acting like our kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.

He left me millions of time, but I am holding him with every breath with same madness

He handed the dust pan and brush over. I knew they wouldn’t be much use in cleaning the floor. I also knew the real reason he had given them to me: so he could look furtively at me, as I bent over. That idea turned me on. I welcomed it, and decided to give him a good look at what he wanted.

He was the kind of man I wanted: wild, hot, horny, and losing control. And it all pointed back to me, about how much I felt in control of him, with the power of my body.

He was the kind of man I wanted: wild, hot, horny, and losing control. And it all pointed back to me, about how much I felt in control of him, with the power of my body. I felt so in control of him; it was dizzying, and intoxicating.

Hey, I am sorry that I am not like other people... I don't say things like, "let's let go of each other now and if we are meant to be, we will be in the end" and things like "if god leads us to it, he will lead us through it." If that's the kind of person you're looking for... well that's not me. I don't love that way. If I loved someone living in the pits of hell, I would go into those pits of hell and I would embrace that person right there in hell. That is how I love. And I would try to bring him out of hell, but first I would burn with him in it. So that is why saying something nice to me like, "let's love one day when it's proper to love" just isn't going to cut it. It doesn't reach me in my soul, because the way my soul loves is different. I don't love like people love. If one day you are burning in hell, I wouldn't say, "look at that bad man in hell!" but I would say "how do I get in there?" So you see... I am very different.

His nostrils flared just a little bit, and the lines bracketing his mouth grew deeper. He snarled with his beautiful, twisted lips and she thought, half on the edge of falling again, she thought he looked like a demon making love to her. A demon fighting for his life or light or possibly redemption.

His eyes were twin flakes of ember floating into the night from a roaring inferno. “I won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what I have to do, I will keep you safe.

His hands fell to my hips, and his fingers dug through my rain-drenched clothes.

I am an artist, my hair is rarely tamed & sometimes I sleep till noon, My house is messy and I speak to the moon. I care less about the materials that I share with my world and more about the passion inside myself. Im an artist, what more can you expect? i am full of soul, love and all the rest.

I’d love to be tried out,’ I said, with a suggestive smile. ‘One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.’ I saw a little flicker of fun in his eyes.

I’d rather discover my sensuality before I find love because it is through understanding my own sensuality that I can learn how to love someone else with the same authenticity, passion and depth as I love myself.

I’d rather discover my sensuality before I find love because it is through understanding my own sensuality that I can learn how to love someone else with the same authenticity and immeasurable depth as I love myself.

I felt his pain as my own and I wanted to touch him, feel him, reach inside his fractured heart and pull out all of the love he buried inside. I wanted to kiss every inch of his skin. I wanted to feel his brokenness against mine, like if we held each other hard enough something within each of us would finally heal.