Richelle Mead Quotes

I want to kiss her without counting the seconds. I want to hold her so long that I get to know her skin. I want, I want, I want.

Stuart stands and says, 'Come here,' and he's on my side of the room in one stride and he claps my hands to his hips and kisses my mouth like I am the drink he's been dying for all day and I've heard girls say it's like melting, that feeling. But I think it's like rising, growing even taller and seeing sights over a hedge, colors you've never seen before.

He kisses me again, more insistent this time, his hands squeezing my waist. His breaths, his body, my body, we are so close there is no difference.

It's the ones who resist that we most want to kiss, wouldn't you say?

With a gentle pressure, our lips met. His hands slipped more firmly about me, and I held myself back, not afraid, but wanting to feel everything slowly as I leaned in, tasting the wine on him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing into mine, breathing in our scents that were mingling and changing with the warmth. My hands rose to find his hair, and I relaxed into him as the silky strands brushed through my fingers. I wanted more, and I leaned into him as our lips moved against each other.

I’m not dangerous,” I breathed. He brought his face toward mine. “You are to me.” And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing.

He let his mouth linger on mine, neither possessively nor sweetly... like his mouth just belonged there on mine. And he was right. It did. It always had.

with your name on my mouth and a kiss that never broke away from yours.

I want to kiss you again, Tess.” “Why?” He chuckled, low under his breath. “Why? Because you’re beautiful, and because I want you. And I think you want me too.

We lie in each other's arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.

He pressed a kiss to my ear. “Do you feel stretched? Can you tell I’ve been inside you?” I nodded, feeling my knees go a little weak from the tone in his voice. “Good. I like knowing you can feel where I’ve been.

He’d moved toward me again. His hands released mine and moved to my waist, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one breathing heavily. He pulled me to him, bringing our bodies together. The world was all heat and electricity, thick with tension that was only one spark away from exploding around us. I was balancing on another precipice, which wasn’t easy to do in heels. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer.

Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.

He grinned when I didn't protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that - a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch's grin deepened. "More?" he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. "More.

And now, as I'm lying alone in my own bed, I keep thinking about writhing against him last night, naked and vulnerable. Even after we'd both risen and fallen, peaked and plummeted, even after Marcus was physically shrinking from inside me, I couldn't stop clutching, crying, trying. Trying to pull him deeper, deeper, deeper within. Trying to make him more a part of me than I am myself.

I leaned in toward her, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that we must kiss.

I knew that I couldn't lie beside her, without wanting to touch her. I couldn't have felt her breath come upon my mouth, without wanting to kiss her. And I couldn't have kissed her, without wanting to save her.

on him, under him, with his mouth pressed to hers, he sang to her uncouth songs that moved through her body.

I've always loved kissing. We all do, don't we?

I want to be kissed by the people I love.

I think the whole tension about romanticism is the way it builds and builds, and the moment it's consummated, the tension's over.

I love gross kissing. I think it's the most fun thing to do.

I might have been tempted to hit him square in the jaw had he not taken me by the shoulders and pinned me against the wall. There was hardly any space left between us, just a thin boundary of air, but Patch managed to eliminate it. "Let's be honest, Nora. You've got it bad for me." His eyes held a lot of depth. "And I've got it bad for you." He leaned into me and put his mouth on mine. A lot of him was on me, actually. We touched base at several strategetic locations down our bodies, and it took all my willpower to break away.

Okay, this was kissing. Serious kissing. Not just a kiss before moving out, not a good-bye, this was Hello, sexy, and wow, she’d never even suspected that it could feel this way.

To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.