Best 124 quotes in «kisses quotes» category

I can sense your love, why leave me in darkness? Beguile me for your amusement, stealing my soul without kisses. You are the sun and I, the moon. Your beauty is reflected in my eyes. When we are apart, I am extinguished in the blackness of these skies.

I can't help but think," she started, then stopped. Knowing she shouldn't say it. Knowing, somehow, that it would make everything harder. "I can't help but think... if only I'd..." He knew it, too. "Don't." But she couldn't stop it. She looked up at him. "If only I'd found you first." The words were small and sad, and she hated them, even as they brought him to her- his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and tilting her up to him. Even as they brought his lips to hers in a kiss that robbed her of strength and will and, eventually, thought. His long fingers threaded through her hair, holding her still as he lifted his lips, met her gaze, and whispered her name before taking her mouth again in long, lavish strokes. Again and again, he did the same, whispering her name against her lips, her cheek, the heavy pulse at the side of her neck, punctuating the word with licks and nips and sucks that set her aflame.

I'd also learned something new. There was something really sexy about a man that kissed you, without stopping to ask first.

I discuss my beliefs less because I bed my atheist, who cannot believe in much more sacred than our kisses.

I don't know much about kisses, but I can assure you that hers were no less fierce than a swarm of bullets tearing the air

I don’t want to relax. I don’t want to … oh, dear Lord.” He had bent his head to her throat, searching for the visible thrum of her pulse. A light, hot shock went through her. “Don’t do that,” she said weakly, but he was insistent, his mouth wickedly soft, and her breath hitched as she felt the brush of his tongue. Her hands shot to his muscle-banked shoulders. “Mr. Rohan, you mustn’t—” “This is how to kiss, Amelia.” He cradled her head in his palms, deftly tilting it to the side. “Noses go here.” Another disorienting brush of his mouth, a wash of sensual heat. “You taste like sugar and tea.” “I already know how to kiss!” “Do you?” His thumb passed over her kiss-heated lips, urging them to part. “Then show me,” he whispered. “Let me in, Amelia.” Never in her life had she thought a man would say something so outrageous to her. And if the words were improper, the gleam in his eyes was positively immolating. “I … I’m a spinster.” She offered the word as if it were a talisman. Everyone knew that rakish gentlemen were supposed to leave spinsters alone. But it appeared no one had told Cam Rohan. A covert smile deepened the corners of his mouth. “That’s not going to keep you safe from me.” She tried to turn away from him, but his hands guided her face back to his. “I can’t seem to leave you alone. In fact, I’m reconsidering my entire policy on spinsters.

If unhappy is the sweetheart who invokes kisses of which he does not know the flavour, a thousand times more unhappy is who this flavour tasted once and then was denied

I’m here because of a letter. Not the kind with hearts and lipstick marks, but the kind that takes your breath away. I wanted it to have that effect on him, and so it was the story of how we fell in love told through our kisses. Both kisses we’d had and kisses I wanted to have, and places I wanted to kiss. Places like Paris and Amsterdam, along the river or by the canal, or Kauai under waterfalls. It was an epic love letter, and it was all I’d ever wanted in my life-to feel that kind of epic love.

...in January, everything seems desolate. The Moon ascends to cold heights - and I, a ragged sky filled with dark kisses...lie abandoned by you...

I miss more loving someone so deeply that I can't imagine a forever without her kisses.

I'm more than a kiss on you worst day, I'm a kiss on your best." - Dr. Jeremy Nichols, Merger Complete

In strokes of fresh blue, pink and orange dispersed with soft white kisses, the sky writes letters to me.

I rush over to him and practically knock him down as I kiss him hard. He stumbles back, but his hands go to my waist, and his mouth takes everything I give. I try to express everything I feel for him, everything I want to say, because I’m not sure if I can admit it aloud yet. I love him. This is true, but the thought of saying it out loud makes the walls close in—just like they’ve always done. Only difference is, this time, when I remind myself that it’s Damon, all that doubt, the claustrophobia, the itchy feeling of wanting to escape disappears completely. If I focus on the Damon part and not words like love and forever, I don’t freak out. I want it. Everything.

Oh, thought Blue. So this is what I can't have.

I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you.

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 run my nose down his neck and chest, peppering soft, open kisses as I go.

I sent a quick text to Adrian: I have a hickey! You can’t ever kiss me again. I honestly hadn’t expected him to be awake this early, so I was surprised to get a response: Okay. I won’t kiss you on your neck again. So typical of him. No! You can’t ever kiss me ANYWHERE. You said you were going to keep your distance. I’m trying, he wrote back. But you won’t keep your distance from me. I didn’t dignify that with a response.

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

It's the truth." Her voice was barely more than breath. "I believe you." He was gently kissing his way along her jaw. "You came all this way to bring me a photo." "Yes." She said. "Well, I can..this morning..here bring it." He raised his head, "What?" She glared at him, "I can't talk when you're doing that." He grinned, dimples appearing. "Sorry. Say it again.

I've heard people say that they lose themselves in a kiss. But in that moment, it was the opposite for me. I felt like I found myself. Not how I wished I was, or who I was afraid I was becoming, but who I really was.

Love, my territory of kisses and volcanoes.

Logan was her entire world and she was his. She could taste the raw honey and bits of bees still on his tongue. She enjoyed the sweet flavor and kept her promise of kissing him even though he was a bug-eating bear.

I want to get lose in your eyes and be brought back to reality with your kisses.

Little girl, little boy If love has a way Fill their fields with laughter And scatter the sun on their day And if it should happen to rain Make their raindrops kisses Straight from heaven above That touch their hands and faces And that fill them with love And make the moon reflect their smiles And their stars plenty And, above all, keep them together And hold them as you may Forever and ever Until their last day.

Love Poem We have plenty of matches in our house We keep them on hand always Currently our favourite brand Is Ohio Blue Tip Though we used to prefer Diamond Brand That was before we discovered Ohio Blue Tip matches They are excellently packaged Sturdy little boxes With dark and light blue and white labels With words lettered In the shape of a megaphone As if to say even louder to the world Here is the most beautiful match in the world It’s one-and-a-half-inch soft pine stem Capped by a grainy dark purple head So sober and furious and stubbornly ready To burst into flame Lighting, perhaps the cigarette of the woman you love For the first time And it was never really the same after thatAll this will we give you That is what you gave me I become the cigarette and you the match Or I the match and you the cigarette Blazing with kisses that smoulder towards heaven.

My lips and eyes and heart were stinging when you kissed me in the dark. — Jack Garton to Jennifer Hammer, 2008 (age 24)

Mati took in my expression, and a moment later I was in his arms. His kisses washed over me like floodwater over parched earth. I clutched him helplessly, tears falling down my face and mingling with his as he whispered my name.

Micah kissed me. Greg wasn't entirely sure who to thank--- God or Santa.

My mouth hung slightly open, i was getting ready to sat something important. what i wanted to say was: I's so, so sorry. but instead I said, "i love you." Only then, when i said it out loud, did i know that it was true. Carly threaded her fingers through mine and i squeezed her hand. She said it back to me, and i was relieved in a way that i wasn't expecting. i didn't know that i needed her to say it until she did. i was so grateful; i leaned down and kissed her fearlessly, which was unlike me. When she kissed me back, i brought my hand up and cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her hair with clumsy fingers. i tried to back off, to apologize for hurting her, but she kept me close, kissing me softly at first, then hard and fast until the lines between us blurred.

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

Not that kind of cheating," Mags said. "More like...skipping ahead. If you like someone, you should have to make an effort. You should have to get to know the person--you should have to work for that first kiss.

Oh how I had underestimated tender kisses.

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

Only with kisses and red poppies can I love you, with rain-soaked wreaths, contemplating ashen horses and yellow dogs. Only with waves at my back can I love you, between dull explosions of brimstone and reflective waters, swimming against cemeteries that circulate in certain rivers, drowned pasture flooding the sad, chalky tombstones, swimming across submerged hearts and faded lists of unburied children.

Pardon me for not being willing to commit my entire future to you based on two kisses and a blueberry muffin.

People are like water: Many rush pass you, as some will over-flood. Some will drown you, or force you to go their current ways. Some will be cold or hot-tempered, but try to say with the warm ones. Some will come as a raging wave and cause a ripple, or a calm sea, supporting you, quenching your thirst, and flow by your side to where kisses will always stay wet.

Noah propped himself up on his elbow, his wicked grin in place. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to see you on this bed?” “Nope.” The hem of my sweater rode up from our fall, exposing my belly button. Noah traced circles onto the skin of my stomach, down to the material of my low-rise jeans. His touch sent a combination of tickles and chills through my body. My heart sped up and I struggled to keep my breathing normal. Every Noah rumor had been right. His kisses curled my toes and now his simple touch rocked my body. Fear mingled with the pleasure in my bloodstream.

Not all kisses heal an open wound.

Pulling back, he gave her a little space and grinned as she found her balance again. “Do you think that will ever get old?” Harper asked with an embarrassed blush. “Christ, I hope not. Just remember how you feel right now because you might be really mad at me in about one minute.” “Uh-oh. I don’t think I like the sound of that.” Harper raised an eyebrow at him. He took her hand and led her toward the studio before pulling her in front of him, her back to his chest. It was the safest position to avoid a kick in the nuts and the best position to block a fast escape. He felt Harper’s quick intake of breath as she turned to face him with a hand over her mouth. “What did you do?” she said through her fingers. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He pushed her through the door as everyone inside shouted, “Surprise!

Peter lifted his head. Hook's hair was tangled around his face like a lion's mane and his eyes were painfully clear, all teasing and mirth gone from his mouth. He took Peter's chin in his hand, his fingers calloused but gentle, and kissed him. Everything in the world grew quiet and Peter's body grew loud. The caress of Hook's fingertips under his chin made his pulse catch, his throat flushing, shoulders tightening. He could only seem to breathe in, breathe Hook in deeper. Hook's lips were dry, and he tasted like salt and sweet wine. He smelled like gunpowder and the sea and he was everywhere, shifting closer across the leaves, his other arm snaking around Peter's waist, the iron claw pressed flat between his shoulder blades. Peter dug his fingers into fistfuls of earth, trying to ground himself as Hook pulled them together, tipping Peter's head back with the gentle thrust of his kiss, a momentum that threatened to tilt them both to the ground. Peter was impossibly hot, hot to his fingertips and toes and his skin was crawling with the need to be touched, the shock of that need. Sweat caught at the back of his shirt. His skin was stark canvas begging for ink, and Hook's touch was going to stain him forever. It was too much, too sudden. Peter recoiled, yanking a knife from his boot and holding it between them. He didn't mean it as a threat, just a way to make distance where none had been.

Rini moved in to kiss him, but on his cheek. She gave him two pecks on his right cheek and one more on his left, which caused him to blush. “Three kisses, huh?” She beamed at him and nodded when she explained, “Fo’ Faith, Hope, an’ Charity.

Rohan was a young half-gypsy with dark hair and bright hazel eyes. They had only met once, when Rohan had stolen a kiss from her. Three kisses, if one wished to be factual, and it had been by far the most erotic experiences of her entire life. Also the only erotic experience of her entire life. Rohan had kissed her as if she were a grown woman instead of someone's younger sister, with a coaxing sensuality that had hinted of all the forbidden things kisses led to. Daisy should have slapped his face. Instead she had dreamed about those kisses at least a hundred thousand times.

Romance is a tender kiss with a lingering promise of more to come.

She doesn’t burn bridges, she covers them in gypsy flowers and feather kisses, then strolls along her merry way. Too heavy to carry grudges, she leaves love and hope droplets wherever she goes.

She didn't get any further because he didn't just stand there letting her aim missiles at him. He easily dodged the first one, and the second went over his head as he dived at her, pushing her back down onto the couch with himself landing on top of her. After she got her breath back from the impact, she shrieked, "Get off of me, you clumsy clod!" "My dear girl, there was nothing clumsy involved in the position you now find yourself. It was quite intentional, I do assure you." "Get off of me anyway!" "So you can resume your spat of violence? No, no. Violence is not going to be part of our relationship. I could've sworn I already mentioned that." "And what do you call squashing me like this?" "Prudence, actually." And then he paused, his eyes getting greener by the second as he stared down at her. "On the other hand, I'd also call it quite nice." Her eyes narrowed. "If you're thinking about kissing me, I wouldn't advise it," she warned. "No?" "No." He sighed. "Ah, well." But then a half grin formed as he added, "I don't always take good advice." -Kelsey & Derek

She stopped and looked at him when she heard a low growl. "You've kissed someone?" Sally tried to hold back the snort of laughter that bubble out. "Of course. I'm eighteen, Costin. Only having kissed one guy by eighteen is pretty darn conservative." "I don't want to know about this guy," Costin frowned. "He won't hold a candle to my kisses anyway.

She made a faint sound. "Please do not do this." Her tone was very low. "Do not-" "What? Kiss you again?" Already his head was lowering, his mouth so close their breath mingled, his and hers... together. As if they were one... Hers caught, then became ragged. She made a small sound, almost a whimper. "Shh, it's all right. No touching. Only kissing." "Kissing? What is this? Aidan's Rules again?" His lips were against hers now, molding and warm and coaxing. His kiss was long and leisurely and made her insides melt to butter. She reveled in the texture and heat and pressure of his mouth. His mouth was warm, his lips softer than she had realized before. She sensed his absolute control- she envied him his control!- along with his restraint. Yet she could also feel his slight smile as he ended the kiss.

She shook her head, and closed her eyes. I felt her weariness then, and with it, my own. I felt it dark and heavy upon me, darker and heavier than any drug they ever gave me - it seemed heavy as death. I looked at the bed. I have seemed to see our kisses there sometimes, I've seen them hanging in the curtains, like bats, ready to swoop. Now, I thought, I might jolt the post and they would only fall, and shatter, and turn to powder.

She wanted to claw the memory of their night together out of her brain, but she couldn't disremember.Or stop thinking about his tongue, the way he kissed and caressed her, almost like he wasn't a monster.