It just seems like overkill when you already have a dagger and I have superpowerful magic at my disposal.” “‘Superpowerful?’”He stood up, a gold chain dangling from his fingers. “Let me remind you of two words, Mercer: Bad. Dog.
My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn’t let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire.
Cam shook his head. 'Do you ever listen to how much crazy shit comes out of your mouth?' 'Nope.' I hooked my fingers into his waistband and pulled him closer. 'Nobody does. That's why I remain undiagnosed.'
I took a breath, seeing from across the room the rain on his eyelashes. A sudden need to brush them free filled me. I could almost feel the dampness of the rain on my fingers, how soft it would feel.
Very often conditions are recorded as observable "under thy fingers" [...] Among such observations it is important to notice that the pulsations of the human heart are observed.
The direction of a big act will warp history, but probably all acts will do the same thing in their degree, down to a stone stepped over in a path or a breath caught at the sight of a pretty girl or a finger nail nicked in the garden soil.
How bold we are. We shy from a flame that licks the tip of our finger for a fraction of a second, and from which we are allowed the luxury of escape. But most of humankind flaunt their disobedience in the face of an eternal fire that engulfs all, and...
Horeb bent over me and ran his hand down my neck, not stopping when his fingers reached my chest. I jerked backward. "What are you doing?" His eyes were black and intense. "A little taste before the wedding, Jayden?
It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running h...
No," he said, and he snapped his fingers. "You'll come work for me at K----. And be a real associate editor." I said, "I could bring you up on charges for that." "What?" "Work harassment in the sexual place.
He tried to close a hand around the precious coffee but had to jerk his fingers away, sharply enough that his wrist popped painfully. Tallow wondered if the other end of the coffee machine was slurping water out of a lake in Hell.
You and I, in our quest for truth, must set ourselves on a higher level. If the worldly reasoner is like a butcher, we wish not to be found like them - minus fingers or thumbs. Spiritual reasoning can be a very sharp blade; it behooves us, then, to �...
I don’t get writer's block because I don’t believe in it. I believe you sit in front of the computer and force your fingers to get something on the screen.
She held up her calloused, grimy fingers. Leo couldn't help thinking there was nothing hotter than a girl who didn't mind getting her hands dirty. But of course, that was just a general comment. Didn't apply to Calypso. Obviously.
You must not fear that clutching at your dreams will shatter them so they run through your fingers like sand. That way lies a life spent in yearning. But yearning is only a season of dreaming, for dreams, if nurtured, become strong.
He silenced the thought, already itching to get inside her, his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock. After all these years of wanting, he would gladly accept whatever access to her body she gave him. He just wanted in.
This must be what an addict feels like, I think, trying to fight the pull of one last, quick read. My fingers itch toward the binding, and finally, with a sigh of regret, I just grab the book and open it, hungrily reading the story.
I'll never forget my first time with you' Min said as she edged the doughnut off her finger. 'The earth moved, and then my mother asked my father who he was going down on at lunch.
Running her fingers on the scales, she sighs. “I wonder what its like to be a human?” “Why won’t you just go and find out?” the question startled her. She whirled around to come face to face with her evil aunt; Ursula.
As I walked, I ran my fingers along the spines of hundreds of books. I let myself be imbued with the smell, with the light that filtered through the cracks or from the glass lanterns embedded in the wooden structure, floating among mirrors and shadow...
He closes his eyes. Our lips brush lightly. "If you ask me to kiss you , I will," he says. His fingers stroke the inside of my wrists, and I burst into flames. "Kiss me," I say. He does.
