And feast on the dead, I thought with a shudder. As if he could read my thoughts, he pressed a hand to my shoulder. His fingers were long and white, splaying over my arm like a waxen spider. If the gesture was meant to comfort me, it failed.
Can you imagine those poor bastards grappling their prey, leaping over the rails, swords in hand, screaming 'Your cats! Give us all your god-damned cats!
He reached out, put his hands on her shoulders and pressed downwards. She fell into a seated position against a fallen tree. "Sit," he said. "Stay." "That's cute," she said. "Tell me to 'heel' and see what happens.
You can't tell me you're not cold in those shorts." "Freezing," she admitted, handing Alex her messenger bag as she got to her feet. "But dammit, I look cute and we both know that's what counts." "Naturally.
At any given moment in our lives, there are certain things that could have happened but didn't. The magic moments go unrecognized, and then suddenly, the hand of destiny changes everything.
Seth embraced her tightly. “Don’t write your future so grim. You will not die, Chloe. I will not let you die here in Alexander’s mad kingdom.” He moved her back, reaching down with one hand to gently wipe away her tears.
Kyle held out his hand and Reid shook it like a good sport, but he made sure to add a little extra pressure and a meaningful stare in the universal male Don’t-f**k-with-this-chick-or-I’ll-eat-your-heart-for-breakfast-with-my-Wheaties look.
If disaster, so be it, they said to themselves. There was nothing to be done except what could be done. The rest -- like the salt water around them, which swallowed the snow without effort, remaining what it was implacably -- was out of their hands, ...
As rain began to fall, Aldric worried the old machines would not be able to survive the weather. "Hand me that oil can!" he shouted to Siomon. Magic machines need oil?" asked Simon. Of course they need oil. They're not perfect.
For an age we stood there like that, me holding him by the collar of his jacket and kissing him for all I was worth, him standing there, hands up like I was frisking him with no idea what to do about it. It. Was. Awesome.
What,” came a deep male voice, “is this?” Silence froze, her hand still outstretched, clutching a damp, dirty cloth. Oh, dear Lord. Slowly she raised her eyes and found herself face-to-thighs with Mickey O’Connor’s extremely tight breeches.
Waving from side to side in the breeze, her long golden hair shimmered as she handed Thomas a bottle of beer. “When are you coming home to me?” She said eloquently.
She's even been practicing making out with the back of her hand. Which was about as effective as tickling yourself. It's why you needed other fingers, other tongues. Only other people can make you feel real.
Rhage!" She laughed some more. "You brought me out here just to-" He started kissing her mouth and putting his hands around her waist. "Outcome Engineer. You knew it when you mated me" ~ Rhage & Mary 'The Shadows' Page 446
I said uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please.
There was something behind the softness that intertwined our fingers together—love? It felt different from two days ago. All I could think about was his smooth hand, wrapped in mine. It was more than affection—but I wasn’t sure how much more, o...
And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.
Women, in general, will find it difficult to turn from a man and stop demanding that he meets their needs, provides security, and protects their identity, and return to me. Men, in general, find it very hard to turn from the works of their hands, the...
Singular Touch. With that singular touch of his precious warm hand, His finger slowly skimmed her porcelain cheek. As her eyes fell upon his delicate soul, It was then he knew, He had captured every single ounce of her being.
My hands felt electrically charged. My blood was ready to burst from my veins and my heart was beating a manic rhythm. I was frightened out of my wits but I was catching a familiar, addictive adrenaline wave. I was ready to taunt the reaper.
Love is a flicker. It’s that hidden desire. It’s the words you’re afraid to say. It’s stolen glances. It’s the passive-aggressive hints. It’s the mixed signal. It’s the first brush against his hand. It’s the first time you daydream ab...
