Best 5910 quotes in «desire quotes» category

Tell me what you feel," he demanded. "Right now, in this moment." Her arms flexed as she pulled against the rope around her wrists, stopping just shy of loosening the restraint. She licked her lips, and her gaze fell to travel hotly over his bared chest and abdomen. And then lower to where his painful erection jutted fiercely from the shadow of his groin. His entire body tensed when her attention seemed to lock on that part of his body. "I am on fire from the inside out," she whispered in a husky tone. "I feel desperate and frantic. As though I am fighting for my life." She brought her gaze back to his face. "And only you have the power to save me." She arched her body, lifting her breasts and rolling her hips. "Please, my lord. Kiss me," she sighed in a quiet demand. Kiss her? He wanted to consume her. In that breathless moment, her gaze seemed to contain all the mysteries of life and death. Mysteries he wanted desperately to explore... until he acknowledged with an intense stab of regret that a woman like Lily would not reveal the depths of her heart unless she could expect reciprocation in kind. Avenell would never know the beautiful secrets she kept. But he could know this. The sigh she breathed as he lowered his head toward hers. The silken texture and lush softness of her lips beneath his. The sweetness of her tongue, the sharp edge of her teeth. The way he so quickly and easily lost himself in the languid exploration of her mouth. She arched more deeply toward him. The peaks of her breasts pressed into his chest. He tensed at the rise in sensations but did not pull away. The kiss took priority over all else. Her tongue played fiercely against his, and her teeth scraped along his lower lip, demanding more of him. Her body melted as her moans and sweet whimpers fanned the fire burning hot inside him. She strained beneath him, arching deeper, pressing harder toward him. It was the deepest pleasure.

Tell them that you weren't hungry, tell them you followed the pomegranates seeds because hey tasted like blood, like love.

Tell me again what you said at the revel,” he says, climbing over me, his body against mine. “What?” I can barely think. “That you hate me,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Tell me that you hate me.” “I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” He kisses me harder. “I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can’t think of anything else.

Tell me what you are thinking when you look at me like that." There was iron and ice in his voice. Not even a hint of tenderness. For some reason, his harsh manner did not bother her. She sensed something beautiful and elusive existed behind his daunting facade. The possibility of discovering what it was filled her with delicate anticipation. She looked into his eyes and answered truthfully. "I am thinking about how you make me feel." The muscles along his jaw tensed, and his eyelids lowered just the barest fraction. He brought his hands around to clasp them behind his back. To keep from reaching for her? "How do I make you feel?" Her skin tingled in reaction to the raw note in his voice. Lily took a moment as she thought about how to put it into words. It was a difficult thing to explain, and she wanted it to come out right. "I feel..." she began, then hesitated. Her breath caught in her chest, and she had to force it out on a heavy sigh. "I feel strong and weak at the same time. When you look at me, I feel exposed, as if you can see my most private thoughts. And though it frightens me- you frighten me- it is such an exquisite sensation that I do not want it to end. Because I want you to know me, to see the deepest parts of me." At first he did not respond beyond a fierce clenching of his teeth, and Lily wondered if he wanted to hear something else. Had she revealed too much of her inexperience? Should she have said something more provocative, more sophisticated? "Do you desire me?" he asked finally. The molten heat running through his words curled around her, heating her breath, her skin, her blood. She looked into his eyes and felt a swirling deep within. It tingled like white fire and spread to the most intimate places in her body.

Tenderhearted people are silent sufferers they just learn the art to fly with broken wings.

Ten seconds is the distance between silence and a smile...

Terrible sadness, dread, an agonizing desire for happiness swelled in his heart.

Temptation turns you. It makes you into something you never dreamed, it presses you to give up everything you ever loved, it calls you to sell your soul for one, fleeting moment.[..] It makes you ache...you'll make any promise,swear any oath. For one...perfect...unsoiled taste

That fire in your heart Growing into an inferno? Set it free Consume me Leave nothing of me that the wind can't scatter.

That man would be completely happy whose desires aroused the appropriate thoughts and activities, and whose activities attained their end in gratification,—between whose desires and experience there was perfect correspondence.

That was how I responded to beauty, in both women and men: drawn to it at first, and then recoiling. Ruled by my own shallow impulses, then angry at the trick.

the abuser's desire to abuse is not created by the child - it is there before the child appears

The ability to engage the reader, to stir feelings deep within their being, is the ultimate goal of erotic fiction. When the reader takes the place of the characters in my story, I have succeeded

The Ache That Would Not Leave Behind the hum and routine of daily living, there lay a persistent and wild longing for something she could not easily put into words. It felt like impulsive adventures and watching the sun rise over unfamiliar mountains, or coffee in a street café, set to the background music of a foreign language. It was the smell of the ocean, with dizzying seagulls whirling in a cobalt sky; exotic foods and strange faces, in a city where no one knew her name. She wanted secrets whispered at midnight, and road trips without a map, but most of all, she ached for someone who desired to explore the mysteries that lay sleeping within her. The truly heartbreaking part was that she could feel the remaining days of her life falling away, like leaves from an autumn tree, but still this mysterious person who held the key to unlock her secrets did not arrive; they were missing, and she knew not where to find them.

The air felt thick with the feeling between us, like it was filling the room: a room full of our carnal heat, our hot desire for each other. Both my hands were clenched on the tablecloth, bunching it tightly, as he continued to swipe the belt against my quivering ass cheeks, and I could feel his tight fist yank repeatedly on my hair.

The apparently bottomless gulf between what we say we want and why we do want, between what we officially admire and secretly desire, between, in the largest sense, the people we marry and the people we love.

The atoms in my body crave for the atoms in your body. We can't stay apart!

The beginning is found in holding hope. Envision it. Envision your desires. Could it be? Could this be your future? Indeed, it can be if only you have the hope. See the truth of your dreams. The only way to begin is with a heart filled with hope for the future.

THE Biggest enemy of Truth is known as Facts in our Society

The Breathtaking Charms are not what everyone desires, because there are sparks of charm in our daily routine that keep us alive.

The brush of your lips will last my lifetime.

The comedy in our lives was those first few weeks we lived together in Paris: Our bodies desired one another, our souls opened for one another. We experienced all of the happiness and anguish of first love. Those first few weeks in Paris, we barely touched lips; yet the few times we did, it had the force of a collision of stars.

The choice to lead is nurtured by the willingness to rise above challenges of life.

The consequences of seeking popularity is not only the chronic feeling of lonliness, but a desire to hide your face from the eyes of the universe.

The dark sky seemed to swallow the moon, as Samantha stood alone on the deserted highway.

The covert conversation between fingers and flesh feverishly heightens the senses and emboldens the soul when the prospect of discovery is inevitable...

The curious fact is that biology tells us nothing about desire. And, when you think about it, culture -- novels, movies, opera, and quite a lot of painting -- is about desire, how we manage desire, how we suffer from it, and how it brings us joy when we get things right. A story without desire -- and that means without the insistence of desire -- will be empty, dry, and more or less aimless. That is one reason we read novels, to see how people fall into awkward moral situations and then try to extricate themselves. This is why there is so much anguish in the world: frustrated desire is every bit as miserable as poverty, because desire is no respecter of one’s position in life: everyone goes through it.

The contented person finds rest in death, and for the greedy person, death puts an end to his long list of desires.

The continuation of man’s life is more attributable to his fear of death than it is to his desire to live. As a matter of fact, in countless cases, it is attributable to only the former.

The cook says, ‘As a young lass, I thought nothing as important as the love of a brave and ‘andsome man; now I’m an old crone, I know full well that it is, but only when he’s moneyed enough to keep you. The young may think they can live on sweet embraces but they won’t fill your belly – or not as you may be intending at any rate!

The debris of her married life was enough to sever the tie between reality and dreams, the fine line between desire and temptation. Where did she draw the line? When did she admit defeat and surrender?

The desire of God is an expression of his need

The desire to be nice to everyone and please everyone and the inability to firmly say no is what destroys believers most of all

The desire for connection with the Divine and our formless inner self is at the foundation of all desire for human connection.

The desire of death will not always lead you to death but the fear of death will.

The desire to succeed had left Vincent. He worked because he had to, because it kept him from suffering too much mentally, because it distracted his mind. He could do without a wife, a home, and children; he could do without love and friendship and health; he could do without security, comfort, and food; he could even do without God. But he could not do without something which was greater than himself, which was his life—the power and ability to create.

The desire to swim in deeper waters is what gives a greater experience. Nothing new comes out of being ordinary. Leaders take risks.

The desire of a specific group of people to maintain a status of superiority created the environment that contributed to the emergence and spread of this mindset

The desire to belong is in every mind.

The desire to belong is in every mind. The desire to get lost in love is in every heart.

The disciplined are free from the tyranny of their desires.

The drive to know fuels the desire to seek.

The exotic and the erotic ideals go hand in hand, and this fact also contributes another proof of a more or less obvious truth - that is, that a love of the exotic is usually an imaginative projection of a sexual desire.

The eyes hold tears for so long; let us fill it with love and passion.

The decision as to whether to risk one’s actual life or to surrender the ideal self-conception is a decision about who one is. (from The structure of desire and recognition)

The desire to learn is valuable, but the desire for an education is priceless.

The desire to be desire-less is but another desire. The thought that, because this desire purports to be spiritual, it is superior to more mundane desires shows how skilled the mind is at justifying any desire it is attached to.

The desire to touch her, to kiss her would end up with her walking away and him hurting again. So why the hell did he reach up and stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckle?

The desire for excellence becomes a reality when an individual sets a standard, reach it and surpass it consistently.

The desire of the people should be the major instrument used to draw them closer to God