She was as one who, in madness, was resolute to throw herself from a precipice, but to whom some remnant of sanity remained which forced her to seek those who would save her from herself.
Claire, did I invite you to my barbeque?" Massie asked, her neck tilting to the right and her arms tightly crossed. "Huh? No. I mean, I don't know," Claire said. "Then why are you all up in my " Massie said through her teeth.
So she learned at the age of almost twenty-six how to kiss a lover. Such kisses involved tongues, lips, taste, feel, and soft, needy noises that had her pressing up into his body and wanting to consume him with her hands and her mouth.
This about Tessa. I knew it was." Will flushed, a wash of color across the pallor of this face. "Not just her." "But you love her." Will stared at him. "Of course I do," he said finally. "I had come to think i would never love anyone, but I love her.
Nobody really knows her Except the chosen few Her secrets are kept hidden Behind that sun-kissed hue. If I reach out to touch her She’ll just run away My Forever and Always Will have to wait another day.
Once a woman put her hand in a gate and it ate her fingers. A five-legged spider with red eyes crawled out. That woman put in three fingers from her other hand, so that the spider might be complete. Do you have that integrity of purpose, sister?
Any girl who says she doesn’t keep a list of best kisses ever is lying. She may not have a pen-and-paper list, but she knows in her head who rocked her world and made her more than weak in the knees.
To her, it was like asking a butterfly what it remembered about being a caterpillar. She could fly now and nothing could touch her when she left the cocoon of her body behind at night.
No one else could see all the bodies she’d left behind, but they were there, looking at her. Or maybe that was just her, looking at herself, and not liking what she saw. Knowing she could never escape her own judging gaze.
She leaned against him slightly, and his heart pounded in his chest. He let go of her hand and scooted away a bit. He could not let her like him, he was only her protector, and that's how it would remain.
Of course she'll move away from me, and likely from here, because she is my daughter, because she is a daughter in the twenty-first century. But we can be her fall-back plan, and her stash of memories. Her deep and wide past.
she was lucky if he stood behind her. Not so lucky if he came to crush her. And a woman might only learn the truth of it—when he walked out of her life. Highlighted by 9 Kindle users
Put me down.” “Nope.” He held her snuggled to his bare chest, tipping her up so he could rub his cheek against hers. “I like carrying you.
Since he couldn't give in to what he really wanted from Kady Dresco, he picked on her and snarked at her and generally gave her grief. And she gave it right back. Sometimes he thought they were engaged in one long round of mental foreplay.
Since he couldn't give in to what he really wanted from Kady Dresco, he picked on her and snarked at her and genreally gave her grief. And she gave it right back. Sometimes he thought they were engaged in one long round of mental foreplay.
At that moment, he realised that he did not exist to her in the same way that he existed in his own perception. She held a copied version, an interpretation of him, filtered through the matrix of her priorities and desires. Therefore, surely, he only...
Nowadays he doesn't think of his wife, though he knows he can turn around and evoke every move of her, describe any aspect of her, the weigh of her wrist on his heart during the night.
Who would want to enter the soiled Temple of Justice, wherein lies the corpse of justice, slain by her very guardians? And now her killers make mock of the sacred process, selling replicas of her blind virtue to the highest bidder.
Then he kissed her, not just a brush of lips as she'd done, but a kiss a kiss that scalded her tongue. The tree burst into full blooms. The garden fluttered around her. A riot of flowers shot out of the earth. She was mud-covered as he pulled back.
He just watched the way Finnikin’s hands rested on Evanjalin’s neck and he rubbed his thumb along her jaw and the way his tongue seemed to disappear inside her mouth as if he needed a part of her to breathe himself.
There she stood. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her face was pale, almost snow-white. She probably hadn't slept, either. She was still wearing the same dress. Her hair looked like a bomb had gone off. She was beautiful.
