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da39a3e
|
|
|
nature
quailty
freedom
goodness
choice
beauty
inspiration
science
darkness
motivational
hope
intelligence
life
inspirational
marie-lu
intimate
american-dream
dedication
watchmen
meaning-of-life
order
hardship
pure
harmony
evil
|
Terry Pratchett |
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25d8e80
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You live by yourself for a stretch of time and you get to staring at different objects. Sometimes you talk to yourself. You take meals in crowded joints. You develop an intimate relationship with your used Subaru. You slowly but surely become a has-been.
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|
has-been
subaru
living-alone
intimate
things
staring
|
Haruki Murakami |
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fb8b412
|
You have to wait together - for a week, for a year, for a lifetime, before the final intimate conversation may be attained ... and exhausted. So that ... That in effect was love.
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love
tietjens
intimate
|
Ford Madox Ford |
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c86919a
|
"Going somewhere?" Tamlin asked. His voice was not entirely of this world. I suppressed a shudder. "Midnight snack," I said, and I was keenly aware of every movement, every breath I took as I neared him. His bare chest was painted with whorls of dark blue woad, and from the smudges in the paint, I knew exactly where he'd been touched. I tried not to notice that they descended past his muscled midriff. I was about to pass him when he grabbed me, so fast that I didn't see anything until he had me pinned against the wall. The cookie dropped from my hand as he grasped my wrists. "I smelled you," he breathed, his painted chest rising and falling so close to mine. "I searched for you, and you weren't there." He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone. "Let go," I said as evenly as I could, but his claws punched out, imbedding in the wood above my hands. Still riding the magic, he was half-wild. "You drove me mad," he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. "I searched for you, and you weren't there. When I didn't find you," he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, "it made me pick another." I couldn't escape. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to. "She asked me not to be gentle with her, either," he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brought his lips to my ear. "I would have been gentle with you, though." I shuddered as I closed my eyes. Every inch of my body went taut as his words echoed through me. "I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre." He said my name like a caress, and his hot breath tickled my ear. My back arched slightly. He ripped his claws free from the wall, and my knees buckled as he let go. I grasped the wall to keep from sinking to the floor, to keep from grabbing him--to strike or caress, I didn't know. I opened my eyes. He still smiled--smiled like an animal. "Why should I want someone's leftovers?" I said, making to push him away. He grabbed my hands again and bit my neck. I cried out as his teeth clamped onto the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder. I couldn't move--couldn't think, and my world narrowed to the feeling of his lips and teeth against my skin. He didn't pierce my flesh, but rather bit to keep me pinned. The push of his body against mine, the hard and the soft, made me see red--see lightning, made me grind my hips against his. I should hate him--hate him for his stupid ritual, for the female he'd been with tonight ... His bite lightened, and his tongue caressed the places his teeth had been. He didn't move--he just remained in that spot, kissing my neck. Intently, territorially, lazily. Heat pounded between my legs, and as he ground his body against me, against every aching spot, a moan slipped past my lips. He jerked away. The air was bitingly cold against my freed skin, and I panted as he stared at me. "Don't ever disobey me again," he said, his voice a deep purr that ricocheted through me, awakening everything and lulling it into complicity."
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|
moaning
pick
high-lord
feyre
tamlin
intimate
bite
wild
scent
|
Sarah J. Maas |
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c737295
|
"She has the most delicious thoughts about you, Tamlin," he said. "She's wondered about the feeling of your fingers on her thighs--between them, too." He chuckled. Even as he said my most private thoughts, even as I burned with outrage and shame, I trembled at the grip still on my mind. Rhysand turned to the High Lord. "I'm curious: Why did she wonder if it would feel good to have you bite her breast the way you bit her neck?" "Let. Her. Go." Tamlin's face was twisted with such feral rage that it struck a different, deeper chord of terror in me. "If it's any consolation," Rhysand confided to him, "she would have been the one for you--and you might have gotten away with it. A bit late, though. She's more stubborn than you are."
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|
rage
mad
thoughts
let-her-go
high-lord
rhysand
tamlin
intimate
read-minds
|
Sarah J. Maas |
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749d346
|
"Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, "And where were you last night?" Lucien's metal eye narrowed on me. "I'll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol." Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, "With some company." He gave me a sly grin. "Rumor has it you two didn't come back until after dawn." I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I'd practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin's gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. "You bit my neck on Fire Night," I said under my breath. "If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing." He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. "Nothing?" His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. "Nothing," I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin's mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. "Are you sure?" he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. "I'm trying to eat," Lucien said."
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|
feyre
tamlin
intimate
nothing
reaction
lucien
|
Sarah J. Maas |
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d4f5f04
|
"Where are you going?" He looked over his shoulder at me. "If I stay, you won't get any sleep." "Stay," I said. "I promise to keep my hands to myself." Lie--such an outright lie. He gave me a half smile that told me he knew it, too, but nestled down, tugging me into his arms. I wrapped an arm around his waist and rested my head in the hollow of his shoulder. He idly stroked my hair. I didn't want to sleep--didn't want to lose a minute with him--but an immense exhaustion was pulling me away from consciousness, until all I knew was the touch of his fingers in my hair and the sounds of his breathing."
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|
tamlin
intimate
stay
touching
hold
goodbye
lie
|
Sarah J. Maas |
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ef76785
|
"I couldn't talk about it, about them--not yet. So I breathed "Later" and hooked my feet around his legs, drawing him closer. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath. This--I needed this right now. It wouldn't wash away what I'd done, but ... I needed him near, needed to smell and taste him, remind myself that he was real--this was real. "Later," he echoed, and leaned down to kiss me. It was soft, tentative--nothing like the wild, hard kisses we'd shared in the hall of throne room. He brushed his lips against mine again. I didn't want apologies, didn't want sympathy or coddling. I gripped the front of his tunic, tugging him closer as I opened my mouth to him. He let out a low growl, and the sound of it sent a wildfire blazing through me, pooling and burning in my core. I let it burn through that hole in my chest, my soul. Let it raze through the wave of black that was starting to press around me, let it consume the phantom blood I could still feel on my hands. I gave myself to that fire, to him, as his hands roved across me, unbuttoning as he went. I pulled back, breaking the kiss to look into his face. His eyes were bright--hungry--but his hands had stopped their exploring and rested firmly on my hips. With a predator's stillness, he waited and watched as I traced the contours of his face, as I kissed every place I touched. His ragged breathing was the only sound--and his hands soon began roaming across my back and sides, caressing and teasing and baring me to him. When my traveling fingers reached his mouth, he bit down on one, sucking it into his mouth. It didn't hurt, but the bite was hard enough for me to meet his eyes again. To realize that he was done waiting--and so was I. He eased me onto the bed, murmuring my name against my neck, the shell of my ear, the tips of my fingers. I urged him--faster, harder. His mouth explored the curve of my breast, the inside of my thigh. A kiss for each day we'd spent apart, a kiss for every wound and terror, a kiss for the ink etched into my flesh, and for all the days we would be together after this. Days, perhaps, that I no longer deserved. But I gave myself again to that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn."
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|
kissing
passion
high-fae
high-lord
feyre
tamlin
intimate
late
making-love
|
Sarah J. Maas |
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cdc913d
|
I think that it [the Church] stands for everything most hostile to the mental emancipation and stimulation of mankind. It is the completest, most highly organized system of prejudices and antagonisms in existence. Everywhere in the world there are ignorance and prejudice, but the greatest complex of these, with the most extensive prestige and the most intimate entanglement with traditional institutions, is the Roman Catholic Church. It presents many faces towards the world, but everywhere it is systematic in its fight against freedom.
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|
mankind
prejudice
freedom
prestige
catholic-church
intimate
catholic
catholicism
hostile
emancipation
church
ignorance
|
H.G. Wells |
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962a0fc
|
She kisses my shoulder, and a shudder runs through my body, igniting every cell.
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rachel-young
isaiah
intimate
know
|
Katie McGarry |
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d4437c5
|
There's a pulse in my body, vibrating every pressure point.
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|
kissing
just-kissing
rachel-young
isaiah
fine
intimate
shirt
jeans
touching
|
Katie McGarry |
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2764ff6
|
My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. she repeats. Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail. We've become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace. Images pour into my mind of what she'd look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth--nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace.
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|
want
kiss
undress
rachel-young
isaiah
intimate
never
separate
touch
|
Katie McGarry |
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347da29
|
He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck. he asks. My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can't believe this is happening to me. The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That's not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won't approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don't care what any of them think.
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|
don-t-care
rachel-young
isaiah
intimate
swear
|
Katie McGarry |
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507be83
|
Isaiah pushes off his car and invades my personal space. His dark scent envelops me and my heart literally trips several times as it tries to continue to beat. Even though he doesn't touch me, it's like Isaiah is everywhere. Only centimeters separate us, but his warmth surrounds me like a bubble. I have to force myself to lift my chin to look at him. His gray eyes soften, and there's this playful aura to him, accompanied by a devious tilt of his mouth.
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rachel-young
playful
isaiah
intimate
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Katie McGarry |
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57120dd
|
Noah propped himself up on his elbow, his wicked grin in place. 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.
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echo-emerson
noah-hutchins
intimate
kisses
|
Katie McGarry |
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004b33d
|
Isaiah lets go of my hand and in a blur, pushes my back against a cold brick wall. His body becomes a hot, thick blanket over mine. The fine hair on my neck stands on end and my eyes close at the sensation of his warm breath on the skin behind my ear. I'm absolutely terrified, but at the same time my body tingles with a weird anticipation.
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|
rachel-young
isaiah
intimate
wall
|
Katie McGarry |
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5c8ab34
|
My patience finally snapped. I swept her up and swung her over my shoulder, her bare feet dangling in front of me. Tinkling laughter filled the room. I tossed her onto the bed. Her fire-red hair sprawled over the pillow. My siren smiled up at me. I said. Echo blinked and raw hunger replaced the laughter that danced in her eyes moments before. Her delicate fingers glided up my arm, exciting every cell. The sultry tone caused something deep within me to stir. I swallowed, attempting to push away the unexpected flutter of nerves in my stomach. My heart swelled, causing my chest to ache and breathing to become nearly impossible. Paralyzed by her beauty, I hovered over her. She was no nymph, but a goddess. Her hands continued their burning climb up my arm and onto my chest. Bold moves for her. Echo's breasts rose and fell at a faster rate. I sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed down the indentations of my chest muscles and willed her to continue as they made their slow descent. Caressing the warm redness forming on her cheek, I sank onto the bed beside her.
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echo-emerson
noah-hutchins
comfortable
intimate
stay
|
Katie McGarry |
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51a9c2b
|
The moment Noah came up behind me and kissed the side of my neck, I was torn between leaning into him and skirting away. Every muscle in my body screamed to fall into him.
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kiss
noah-hutchins
torn
intimate
|
Katie McGarry |
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49b2583
|
"I lay my fantasy in the backseat of Isa's car and slide in next to her. She snuggles up, using me as her personal pillow, her blond curls sprawled over my crotch. I close my eyes for a second, trying to get the image out of my head. And I don't know what to do with my hands. My right one is on the door armrest. My left one hovers over Brittany. I hesitate. Who am I kidding? I'm not a virgin. I'm an eighteen-year-old guy who can deal with having a hot, passed-out girl next to me. Why am I afraid of putting my arm where it's comfortable, right over her midsection? I hold my breath as I settle my arm on her. She cuddles closer and I'm feeling weird and light-headed. Either it's the aftereffects from the joint or . . . I don't want to think about the "or." Her long hair is wrapped around my thigh. Without thinking, I weave my hands in her hair and watch as the silky strands slowly fall through the V's between my fingers."
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|
asleep
cuddle
snuggle-pillow
brittany-ellis
intimate
hair
touch
|
Simone Elkeles |
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31f0f02
|
He did not touch her but enjoyed the particular intimate pain of the tension between them.
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|
pain
intimate
the-message-to-the-planet
iris-murdoch
tension
|
Iris Murdoch |
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88665ad
|
"Forget about that and kiss me," I say. I weave my hands in her hair. She wraps her arms around my neck as I trace the valley between her lips with my tongue. Parting her lips, I deepen the kiss. It's like a tango, first moving slow and rhythmic and then, when we're both panting and our tongues collide, the kiss turns into a hot, fast dance I never want to end. Carmen's kisses may have been hot, but Brittany's are more sensual, sexy, and extremely addictive. We're still in the car, but it's cramped and the front seats don't give us enough room. Before I know it, we've moved to the backseat. Still not ideal, but I hardly notice. I'm so getting into her moans and kisses and hands in my hair. And the smell of vanilla cookies. I'm not going to push her too far tonight. But without thinking, my hand slowly moves up her bare thigh. "It feels so good," she says breathlessly. I lean her back while my hands explore on their own. My lips caress the hollow of her neck as I ease down the strap to her dress and bra. In response, she unbuttons my shirt. When it's open, her fingers roam over my chest and shoulders, searing my skin. "You're . . . perfect," she pants. Right now I'm not gonna argue with her. Moving lower, my tongue follows a path down to her silky skin exposed to the night air. She grabs the back of my hair, urging me on. She tastes so damn good. Too good. I pull away a few inches and capture her gaze with mine, those shining sapphires glowing with desire. Talk about perfect. "I want you, I say, my voice hoarse."
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|
kissing
spanish
brittany-ellis
intimate
touching
tongue
lips
|
Simone Elkeles |
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4d75ac6
|
"I brush a strand of hair from her face, then move beside her. When she wraps her arms around my neck, all I want to do is protect this girl for the rest of my life. I ease her jacket open and lean away. A pink lace bra stares back at me. Nothing else. I whisper. "Is our game over?" she asks nervously. "It's definitely over, 'Cause what we're gonna do next is no game." --
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spanish
brittany-ellis
intimate
game
|
Simone Elkeles |
|
ef2f48c
|
"Let's get out of here. You and me, I breathe a sigh of relief as I straddle Julio and Brittany hops on behind me. She wraps her arms around my waist, holding on tight as I speed out of the parking lot. We fly through the streets; which eventually become a blur. I don't even stop when rain starts pouring down. "Can we stop now?" she yells through the deafening storm. I park under an old abandoned bridge by the lake. Heavy rain pounds the cement surrounding us, but we have our own secluded place. Brittany hops to the ground. "You're a stupid jerk," she says. "You can't deal drugs. It's dangerous and stupid, and you promised me. You'll risk going to jail. Jail, Alex. You may not care, but I do. I won't let you ruin your life." "What do you want to hear?" "Nothing. Everything. Say something so I don't stand here feeling like a complete idiot." "The truth is . . . Brittany, look at me." "I can't," she says as she stares at the pouring rain. "I'm so tired of thinking of every scary scenario." I pull her against me. "Don't think, Everything will work itself out." "But--" "No buts. Trust me." My mouth closes over hers. The smell of rain and cookies eases my nerves. My hand braces the small of her back. Her hands grip my soaked shoulders, urging me on. My hands slide under her shirt, and my fingers trace her belly button. "Come to me," I say, then lift her until she's straddling me over my bike. I can't stop kissing her. I whisper how good she feels to me, mixing Spanish and English with every sentence. I move my lips down her neck and linger there until she leans back and lets me take her shirt off. I can make her forget about the bad stuff. When we're together like this, hell, I can't think of anything else but her."
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|
kissing
spanish
brittany-ellis
intimate
stupid
dangerous
|
Simone Elkeles |
|
3bbfb4e
|
"Furthermore, she poured tea on a regular basis. Madeline didn't care to, while Eleanor found comfort in the scent, the warmth, the routine. But right now, with all of Mr. Knight's attention focused on her, the task became an ordeal. The pot seemed to weigh too much. The cup rattled in the saucer as she picked it up. She tilted the pot, aimed the spout toward the cup- And in that same, smiling, deceptively pleasant voice, Mr. Knight said, "I like having a duchess wait on me." Both of Eleanor's hands shook. The hot liquid splashed on her fingers. She dropped the cup. As she reached for it, it shattered against the table. A shard jabbed into her palm. She yanked her hand back and closed her fingers. In a rush, he came and knelt beside her. "Are you hurt? Did you burn yourself?" "No, no, I'm fine." She wasn't fine. She was embarrassed. She cultivated the graceful moves of a lady for a reason. She hated making a spectacle of herself- and now her nerves had betrayed her. "Please, Mr. Knight, stand up." For all the notice he took of her, she might not have spoken. Turning her hand to the light, he at once detected the slight cut beneath her little finger, oozing a sullen drop of scarlet blood. "You've cut yourself." "Only a little." She tried to tug her hand back. "I was clumsy. I broke your beautiful cup." "To hell with the cup." He pressed his finger lightly on the cut. She winced. "You're lucky. There's nothing in there." Lifting her hand to his mouth, he sucked the small wound. Shocked, she stared at him. His head bent over her hand, his chiseled features were intent, serious. His mouth was warm, wet, and the suction he used made her feel... odd. More animal than human, pain and intimacy mixing... never, ever had a man's mouth touched her on any part, in any way."
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|
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
intimate
|
Christina Dodd |
|
f6db706
|
"I don't deserve you. You know that, don't you?" "When are you gonna realize you're one of the good guys?" When I don't answer, she pulls my head down to hers. "My body is yours tonight, Alex," she whispers against my lips. "Do you want it?" "God, yes."
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want
brittany-ellis
good-guy
intimate
deserve
yes
|
Simone Elkeles |