What am I to you?” He brought his forehead to hers, staring her, his eyes holding nothing but naked truth. “I’ve loved you for so long… You’re my downfall,” he whispered, his words breaking, “…and my fucking salvation.
Though it pained me, I gave in. Why was it that I repeatedly succumbed to the first whisper of a promised maybe? How did the enticer, hope, always find my heart unguarded? There was no such thing as hope. Not for me. Why was it so hard to accept that...
I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.
He kissed her dizzy, then lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waisst as he kissed his way down her neck. "Make love to me," she whispered. "Like I'm a full-grown woman." He pulled back to look at her. "As opposed to...?
What the devil is Chocho?' Will whispered. Horace's grin broadened. 'You are. It's what the men call you,' he said. Then he added, 'It's a term of great respect.' Behind them, Halt nodded confirmation. 'Great respect,' he agreed.
You wanted hearts and flowers,” he murmurs. I blink at him, not quite believing what I’m seeing. “You have my heart.” And he waves toward the room. “And here are the flowers,” I whisper, completing his sentence. “Christian, it’s lovel...
I thought all the trees were whispering to each other, passing news and plots along in an unintelligible language; and the branches swayed and groped without any wind. They do say the trees do actually move, and can surround strangers and hem them.
Not saving you from this storm, mutant,” he said. “Saving you for your later fate, we are.” His voice was weirdly inflected and metallic, like an automated answering machine. “Oh, good. Yoda captured us,” Fang whispered.
You could make me say it again," he whispered. "Make me say it always. Make me say it so often that you never have cause to doubt. I love you.
These things excite me ,’ she whispered. ‘If you want to kiss me any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Just mention my name. Or present a green card.
Mama, don't take him. We need him,' Jack whispered. 'Please. He will not forget you if you let him stay with us. He will love you for ever and every time he laughs, he will remember how you once laughed...
You have to stop looking at me like that.” He sounds amused, “or else I will have to take you up to my suite right now, and have you for lunch” I sigh at the image, “Why don't you?” I whisper. It’s exactly what I want.
The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of...
What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you." "Why? Was kissing me that bad?" A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good.
Why won’t you look at me?” she murmurs. He doesn’t speak, seemingly at a loss for words. “It’s my scars.” It comes out as barely a whisper. Horror spasms across his face. “What? No,” he says, a bit breathless. “You’re beautiful. A...
Tatiana said. "Go on with Dasha. She is right for you. She is a woman and I'm-" "Blind!", Alexander exclaimed. Tatiana stood, desolately failing in the battle of her heart. "Oh, Alexander. What do you want from me..." "Everything", he whispered fierc...
I want you to trust me," Gabe whispered against her lips. Lauren closed her eyes and fought the urge to kiss him. "I still don't." Gabe laughed. "Yeah, you do. You might not want to, but you do.
I can't dance, remember?" I whispered. "It's just a tango. It is like sex, except with clothes on." Then, squeezing me closer: "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot, you do not know how to do that either.
This isn’t over, Sylvia. I’ll leave you now, but I’m watching. I will not let that bastard hurt you.” I said this just as I reached the door. As she shut the door I heard a strangled whisper, “No, you’re perfectly capable of doing that on...
There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been.
Breckin shrugs. “I’m new here. And if you haven’t deducted from my impeccable fashion sense, I think it’s safe to say that I’m…” he leans forward and cups his hand to his mouth in secrecy. “Mormon,” he whispers.
