Nape Quotes & Sayings

As the sun went down, I saw a solitary boatman disporting on the smooth lake. The falling dews seemed to strain and purify the air, and I was soothed with an infinite stillness. I got the world, as it were, by the nape of the neck, and held it under in the tide of its own events, till it was drowned, and then I let it go down stream like a dead dog. Vast hollow chambers of silence stretched away on every side, and my being expanded in proportion, and filled them. Then first could I appreciate sound, and find it musical. — Henry David Thoreau

He came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders; bending low, he put his lips close to the nape of her neck. "How about a kiss for your jailbird brother?" he said.
She turned halfway, as if to touch her lips to his cheek but he slid a palm down her back and tipped her face up to his and kissed her full on the mouth - not a brotherly kiss, there was no mistaking it for that, but a long, slow, greedy kiss, messy and voluptuous. His bathrobe fell slightly open as his left hand sank from her chin to neck, collarbone, base of throat, his fingertips just inside the edge of her thin polka-dot shirt and trembling over the warm skin there. — Donna Tartt

I'm so sorry. I don't think the etiquette manuals cover this sort of situation." He leaned in close, his lips all but grazing her neck, and inhaled. "Mmm. You smell good, too."
She nearly choked. Took a step backwards, until her back met cold stone. "Th-thank you."
"That's better. May I kiss you?" His finger dipped into her shirt collar, stroking the tender nape of her neck.
"I d-don't th-think that's a good idea."
"Why not? We're alone." His hands were at her waist.
Her lungs felt tight and much too small. "Wh-what if somebody comes in?"
He considered for a moment. "Well, I suppose they'll think I fancy grubby little boys. — Y.S. Lee

He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed.
"Don't move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him.
"Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them. — Tara Brown

Are you going to kiss me or not?"
He released the jacket. "Not," he rasped.
"Then I'll kiss you." Cupping his nape, she drew his head down, but
Nate laid his fingertips over her mouth.
"Some things you can't take back."
Claire lifted his hand. "Some things you don't want to. — Karina Bliss

A bowling ball rolled through his head, diagonally from nape to temple; it paused and started back. — Vladimir Nabokov

You were coshed with a fireplace poker," Mrs. Seaton said, bending over him to sift through the hair above his nape. "These wounds will require careful cleaning." She wadded up his shirt and folded it to hold against the scalp wound. "Passive voice," the earl said through clenched teeth, "will not protect you, Mrs. Seaton, since you did the coshing. Jesus and the apostles, that hurts." Her hand came up to hold his forehead even as she continued to press the linen of his ruined shirt against the bleeding wound. "The bleeding is slowing down," she said, "and the wounds on your back are not as messy." "Happily for me," her patient muttered. — Grace Burrowes

Other tokens of maturity included a velvet choker of tiny pearls, the ginger tresses gathered at the nape and secured with an emerald clasp, three loose silver bracelets around a freckled wrist, and the fact that whenever she moved, the air about her tasted of rose water. — Ian McEwan

And then . . . we're going to get in my car."
I waited for him to elaborate on a destination. "And?"
He gently kissed the nape of my neck. "What do you think?"
I couldn't help a small gasp of delight. "Oh, wow."
"I know, right? I was racking my brain for the best present ever, and then I realized that nothing was going to rock your world more than you and me in your favorite place in the entire world."
I swallowed. "I'm kind of embarrassed at how excited I am about that." Never had I guessed my love of cars would play a role in my sex life. Eddie was right. Something had happened to me.
"It's okay, Sage. We've all got our turn-ons."
"You kind of ruined the surprise, though."
"Nah. It's part of the gift: you getting to think about it for the next three days. — Richelle Mead

Michael sat down behind her. He put his strong legs on either side of her and pulled her back against him. "Just wait." She wanted to resist his embrace, but she was too cold to fight him. "For what?" He put his arms around her. "For morning." "I could have waited for that in the cabin." He laughed against her hair. Lifting it, he kissed the nape of her neck. "You can't understand until you see it from here." He nuzzled the soft skin beneath her ear. She shivered softly. "Sleep a while if you want." He tucked her more closely against him. "I'll wake you at the right time." She wasn't sleepy after the long walk. "Do you do this sort of thing often?" "Not often enough. — Francine Rivers

He wrapped one arm around her waist, and cupped her nape with his other hand. This time when he kissed her there was none of the restraint she'd seen in the past. It was like kissing an inferno.
Hot, breathless, so overwhelming that her senses shattered. — Maya Banks

I became simply a pair of eyes, staring through my mask at Char. I needed no ears because I was too far off to hear his voice, no words because I was too distant for speech, and no thoughts - those I saved for later. He bent his head. I loved the hairs on the nape of his neck. He moved his lips. I admired their changing shape. He clasped his hand. I blessed his fingers. Once, the power of my gaze drew his eyes ... — Gail Carson Levine

Aidan from the past: He took her hands in his bloodied, callused ones. "Accept me?" His eyes glowed, his lashes spiked from rain.
Declan in the present: He gripped her nape. "I fuckin love you, Regin!" Rain spiked his lashes as he gazed down at her, commanding her, "Love me back! — Kresley Cole

I think we need to have sex now.'
His brows drew together. 'Why?'
'To remind us of what we're doing here,' I replied, my tone meaningful.
Braden's eyes narrowed. 'No,' he told me gruffly, squeezing my nape. 'I'd have sex with you for anything else but that. — Samantha Young

I'm about to berate his tactics, to deny any feelings for him, when he cups the nape of my neck and presses his lips to mine, velvety soft. It's nothing but a peck, yet the flavor of the tart he sampled lingers like a warm, savory bruise - an irresistible torment to the netherling within.
He draws back and my skin glistens, radiant prisms reflected off his face and the cushions. I'm gripping his jacket lapels, yet I don't even remember reaching for him.
"No more denials," he says as he presses his left hand over one of mine. "I've seen the love in your eyes and in your actions. I felt it yesterday when I held you in my arms, and today, when you came to save me." — A.G. Howard

And oh, the oh my nape of the neck. The up-swept oh my nape of the neck. I could walk behind anyone and fall in love. Don't stop. Don't turn around. — Dorianne Laux

A strong but gentle grip on her nape had pulled her back to make the acquaintance of a warm slab of granite. Callused fingers held her neck while a blunt hand fanned her hip, locking her into position against something hard and hot.
It could have been anyone, but after just one afternoon of Flynn-spun intimacy, her body knew its owner. — Kate Meader

You are no one in my life," she said in a voice fraught with tension. "You cannot tell me what to - "
"Oh, I can," he bit out, his voice a gravelly purr that abraded her skin and sparked something inside her. His hand slid around her nape and hauled her closer. His pirate's eyes swallowed her up and forced all the air out from her lungs in one great rush. "I will."
She opened her mouth to protest, but his mouth covered hers. Claimed her. It was the only word for it. This was a taking. And she the taken. — Sophie Jordan

He leaned closer and she swallowed the rest of her words as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. She stared back at him, stunned, her heart thudding against her breastbone. He palmed the nape of her neck, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth this time, turning her legs to jelly.
She pressed her body against his, her skin on fire, desire beating a tattoo through her veins. His tongue stroked hers gently, provocatively, and she reached out and gripped his shoulders with both hands.
After a long, long moment he drew back. "Come home with me?" he asked very quietly, his voice a low husk.
Dear God, I thought you'd never ask. — Sarah Mayberry

I will meet you on the nape of your neck one day, on the surface of intention, word becoming act.
We will breathe into each other the high mountain tales, where the snows come from, where the waters begin.
-In the yellow time of pollen — Luke Davies

He extricated himself from her encircling arm and she moaned a little and curled away from him. He moved close again, foetally fitting himself to her shape, wrapping his arm around her waist. She awoke briefly and clasped his hand tightly to her belly, and murmured sleepily, 'I do love you Martin.'
Choked, he buried his face in the smooth nape of her neck, and summoned the courage to tell her what he hadn't dared say; that he loved her too, more than he could ever have imagined possible. — John Needham

After a moment, he found my neck, kissing the nape, his teeth grazing my skin and causing
me to make a small noise very much like a whimper. Before I could take another breath, his
lips met mine and I was lost to his touch. — Cyrese Covelli

My beard towards heaven, I feel my nape support / The back of my head, I grow the breast of a harpy / And my brush as it drips continually / Upon my face, makes it a gorgeous floor. — Michelangelo

He glanced at Trey nervously and quickly averted his gaze to settle on Brian. "You guys rock. I absolutely idolize you. I wan't to be you."
"I want to do you," Trey said, toying with the hair at the nape of Mark's neck. — Olivia Cunning

The person who doesn't know how to subjugate will all too quickly feel the other's foot on the nape of his neck. — Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch

I just sit where I'm put, composed
of stone and wishful thinking:
that the deity who kills for pleasure
will also heal,
that in the midst of your nightmare,
the final one, a kind lion
will come with bandages in her mouth
and the soft body of a woman,
and lick you clean of fever,
and pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck
and caress you into darkness and paradise. — Louise Penny

I want you." She felt the words wrench from her. As they slipped from her mouth into his, he crushed her against him in a grip that left all gentleness behind. His lips savaged, warred, absorbed, util they were both speechless. With an inarticulate mrumuer, Grant buried his face in her hair and fought to find reason.
"Good God,in another minute I'll forget it's still daylight and this is a public road."
Gennie ran her fingers down the nape of his neck. "I already have."
Grant forced the breath in and out of his lungs three times, then lifted his head. "Be careful," he warned quietly. "I have a more difficult time remembering to be civilized than doing what comes naturally. At this moment I'd feel very natural dragging you into the backseat,tearing off your clothes and loving you until you were senseless."
A thrill rushed up and down her spine, daring her,urging her. She leaned closer utnil her lips were nearly against his. "One should never go against one's nature. — Nora Roberts

Without warning, Packard reaches out
I think he's going to touch my cheek, but he slides his hand around the nape of my neck and pulls me to him, kissing me warm and strong, lips soft, breath like coffee. The kiss takes me by surprise. My whole body wants to follow deeper into him, but he pulls away, and we're looking into each other's eyes, and the moment stops. And everything seems to fall out beneath me.
"Good luck," he whispers.
"Packard
"
He opens the door. "It's okay."
I stare at the open door. It feels like a closed door. And I leave. — Carolyn Crane

The sky was a cold iron-grey, like the underside of a shield. A sharp breeze lifted the hems of skirts and rattled the leaves on the immature trees; a spiteful, chill wind that sought out your weakest places, the nape of your neck and your knees, and which denied you the comfort of dreaming, of retreating a little from reality. — J.K. Rowling

A warm, ragged breath disturbed the hairs on my forehead, and my blood began pricking as I realized where exactly I had retreated: right into Mr. Braddock, our strange connection humming through the hairsbreadth of distance between our bodies, our faces. I froze, forcing myself to stop shoving against him further. Before I understood anything, a rough, large hand brushed my chin, my face tipped upwards, and his mouth caught mine, and suddenly my entire body was on fire. Whatever odd sensation had thrummed between us before was just the stroke of a violin bow to this clash of an orchestra. I felt the world pass between our lips, tasting champagne, hunger, and something indefinably darker, while his hand ignited sparks down my cheek to the nape of my neck. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, forcing that elusive essence to run deeper than my skin, deeper than my veins, until my very bones vibrated. — Tarun Shanker

He moans and kisses the nape of my neck. He works his way up to my mouth. His lips land on mine, hot and wet and sucking. His tongue sweeps in, teasing mine. — Susan Ee

When she awakened, Hunter was watching her with eyes like dark velvet.
"You're the last woman I'll ever make love to," he said, stroking her breast, toying with the rosy peak. She stroked his sun-streaked hair and the hard nape of his neck, loving the feel of him against her.
"Good," she whispered.
"Keep me with you, Lara. I don't want to leave you. — Lisa Kleypas

Webster, as if he's done it every day of his life, as if he did it just the day before, trails his fingers from the small of Sheila's back to the nape of her neck.
Sheila turns her head, "Go slowly and be careful," she says. — Anita Shreve

Damen's palm slid over Laurent's warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth. The kiss was barely a suggestion of itself, with no yielding of the rigidity in Laurent, but the first kiss became a second, after a fraction of parting in which Damen felt the flicker of Laurent's shallow breathing against his own lips. It — C.S. Pacat

Do you want to sit with your boyfriend?" Cooper asked with his gaze on Nick even as his fingers caressed the nape of my neck.
"Maybe, but first I'll copy your stellar notes."
"Bitch."
"Asscrack."
"Nerd."
"Hotstuff."
"The devil disguised as an angel to trick me into losing my heart."
"That one was too long."
Cooper grinned. — Bijou Hunter

Here's something else to worry about," he said. And he kissed me - his hand at the nape of my neck and his mouth on mine, soft at first, then serious and demanding. He drew me closer and kissed me again and desire washed over me, hot and liquid and scary.
"Oh boy," I whispered.
"Yeah," he said. "Think about it."
"What I think ... is that it's a bad idea."
"Of course it's a bad idea," Ranger said. "If it was a good idea I'd have been in your bed a long time ago. — Janet Evanovich

Livia, I'm going to be okay. You have to believe it."
The nape of his neck was just inches from her lips. The only things stopping her from tasting it were red lipstick and one hundred pairs of eyes.
"I've always believed it." Livia tilted her head so she could see him.
Blake held his lips close to hers. They were lost in each other. — Debra Anastasia

Janie?" he whispered against her nape, his breath warm. A shiver wound through her entire body. Her nipples peaked, and her abdominal muscles clenched. "What?" "I'm sorry I'm not who you thought." His lips moved against her skin. She forced instant need down along with a definite groan. "I like who you are." He chuckled. "You do not." "Yes, I do. You're strong and loyal. I just wish you'd share. — Rebecca Zanetti

And they spoke of their Antigonie, who they called Go, as if she were a friend.
Leo hadn't yet written any music, but he had made drawings on butcher paper stolen from the kitchen. They curled around his walls, intricate doodles, extensions of the boy's own lean, slight body. The shape of Leo's jaw in profile, devestating. The way he gnawed his fingernails to the crescents, the fine shining hairs down the center of his nape, the smell of him, up close, pure and clean, bleaching.
The ones made for music are the most beloved of all. Their bodies a container for the spirit within; the best of them is music, the rest only instrument of flesh and bone.
The weather conspired. Snow fell softly in the windows. It was too cold to be out for long. The world colorless, a dreamscape, a blank page, the linger of woodsmoke on the back of the tongue. — Lauren Groff

Mercury. Lead. Antimony. A cresent moon sits at the nape of her neck; and Egyptian ankh near her collarbone. There are other symbols as well: Norse runes, Chinese characters.
It is part of who I was, who I am, and who I will be. — Erin Morgenstern

Her eyes bothered him most. Unlike the Kai, hers were layers of opaque white, blue ringed in gray and black pinpoint centers that expanded or contracted with the light. The first time he'd witnessed that reaction in a human, all the hairs on his nape stood straight up. That, and the way the contrasting colors made it easy to see the eyes move in their sockets gave the impression they weren't body parts but entities unto themselves living as parasites inside their hosts' skulls.

He was used to seeing the frantic eye-rolling in a frightened horse but not a person. If the parasite impression didn't repulse him so much, he'd think humans lived in a constant state of hysterical terror. — Grace Draven

I have a confession."
"Oh?"
"I can't get you off my mind."
His statement robbed her of words. Heat spread down the nape of her neck. He was saying too much. ~Thomas to Chelise — Ted Dekker

"Remember what you said the last time we were together?" I whisper, my mouth at his shoulder, aching at the proximity and heat radiating there. I want to lift to my tiptoes and press my lips where his hair curls against his nape, want to feel him tremble at my touch like he used to. "You said you don't give up without a fight. That was a promise." — A.G. Howard

Evie." He brushed her hair back from her temple. "Time to wake up, love. We must greet our staff." She straightened and peered out the window. "So many of them, and this is not even your family seat." Our family seat. He did not emphasize the point. "Let me pin you up." She turned on the seat while he fashioned something approximating a bun at her nape. The moment was somehow marital, and to Deene, imbued with significance as a result. Deene had laced up, dressed, and undressed any number of ladies, but there was nothing flirtatious in the way Eve presented to him the pale, downy nape of her neck. He kissed her there and felt a shiver go through her. "You are going to be the sort of husband who is indiscriminate with the placement of his lips on my person, aren't you?" She did not sound pleased. "When we are private, probably. You always smell luscious, and I am only a man." His — Grace Burrowes

Rosie laughs. She reaches around Silas's neck - he looks taller, older than normal - and twirls the hair at the nape of his neck around her fingers. His arms circle her waist protectively, one hand half hidden beneath her silk shirt as it rests on the tiny, smooth small of her back. Everything about them is silky and gleaming, all smooth skin and shiny hair and languid voices. — Jackson Pearce

He crowded right up into her space, pressed his body against hers - trapping her against the glass of the door behind her, plunged his hands into her hair until he was cupping the nape of her neck, and devoured her lips with his. — Laura Kaye

Shaking my head, I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. When I pulled back I rested my forehead on his. "They're perfect." I sighed, smiling teasingly. "You know, I think I might kind of love you. — Samantha Young

He chewed my head off about the "threadsoul," the "causal body," "ablation," the Upanishads, Plotinus, Krishnamurti, "the karmic vestiture of the soul," "the Nirvanic consciousness," all that flapdoodle which blows out of the east like a breath from the plague ... he had worn himself out, like a coat whose nape is worn off. — Henry Miller

He leaned in. I felt his breath against my neck, then the press of his mouth against my skin just above the collar, almost a sigh.
"Don't," I said. I drew back, but he held me tighter. His hand went to the nape of my neck, long fingers twining in my hair, easing my head back. I closed my eyes.
"Let me," he murmured against my throat. His heel hooked around my leg, bringing me closer. I felt the heat of his tongue, the flex of hard muscle beneath bare skin as he guided my hands around his waist. "It isn't real," he said. "Let me."
I felt that rush of hunger, the steady, longing beat of desire that neither of us wanted, but that gripped us anyway. We were alone in the world, unique. We were bound together and always would be.
And it didn't matter.
I couldn't forget what he'd done, and I wouldn't forgive what he was: a murderer. A monster. A man who had tortured my friends and slaughtered the people I'd tried to protect. I shoved away from him. "It's real enough. — Leigh Bardugo

A companion," he whispered against her mouth. "A lover." He nibbled at her bottom lip, and his hand slid from her nape to cup the back of her head. "A beloved wife. — Grace Draven

After a few brief simple moments, he found her neck, kissing the nape as if it were a peach, grazing her skin barely, causing her to moan out a small tiny little whimper. Before she could take another rbreath, his lips met hers in rapture, and suddenly, she was lost within the tragic abyss of falling beneath a lovebinding spell. — Keira D. Skye

She raises her arms in an effort to hook at the nape of her neck a gown of black veiling. She cannot: no, she cannot. She moves backwards towards me mutely. I raise my arms to help her: her arms fall. I hold the websoft edges of her gown and drawing them out to hook them I see through the opening of the black veil her lithe body sheathed in an orange shift. It slips its ribbons of moorings at her shoulders and falls slowly: a lithe smooth naked body shimmering with silvery scales. It slips slowly over the slender buttocks of smooth polished silver and over their furrow, a tarnished silver shadow.... Fingers, cold and calm and moving.... A touch, a touch. — James Joyce

Alex gazed at her. Her mouth was slightly open; she ran her fingernail against her lower teeth as she thought. She'd knotted her hair at the nape of her neck again, and a strand had slipped loose onto her shoulder, gleaming in the lantern light. Suddenly all of his objections seemed meaningless. Don't, he thought. You'll regret it.
He didn't care anymore.
Slowly, unable to stop himself, he reached out and cupped his hand around her foot. — L.A. Weatherly

W-we both know your life would be so much simpler without me! I am just a thorn in your paw."
He nodded easily. "And it reminds me of you - every move I make, I think of you."
My lips parted. Again I realized that he was the only thing in my life that made me feel sane, made me want to fight for a future.
"Evangeline, I've got to feel you with my every step." His shaking hand closed over my nape, squeezing. "Or I go a little crazy, me. — Kresley Cole

I've got a call on hold to send your way," she said. "And I hope it's personal, because holy hell is his voice smokin' hot. He sounds like S-E-X rolled in chocolate and covered in whipped cream."
Nervous excitement raised the hairs on my nape. "Did he give his name?"
"Yep. Brett Kline. — Sylvia Day

The kiss was everything she hadn't dared let herself think about. Slow. Hot. Hungry. His lips molded to hers, drinking up her small, breathless exhale before his tongue skimmed across hers. Bree reached out and gripped his shirt, tugging him until he was flush against her. The man knew how to kiss, and she felt her mind emptying of everything but how incredible his mouth felt working deeper into hers. Every nip, every silky stroke of his tongue, every breath dragged between their mouths made her hold on tighter. The second he stopped, the real world would slide back into place, and more than anything, she wanted this. Wanted Finn with an unexpected yearning that burrowed deeper with each second he continued to kiss her. He cupped the nape of her neck, tipping her head back as he deepened the kiss. She whimpered, catching his bottom lip between hers. His thumb trailed along her jawline, and she shuddered in its wake, wanting his mouth there. Wanting — Sydney Somers

Backpacks are obtrusive. They're great for school kids and mountaineers, but a woman is supposed to look enticing and glamorous at night. They obscure one of a woman's most erogenous zones, the nape of her neck. I suppose they're good if you want to keep men away. — Letitia Baldrige

She came naked behind him as the soft melancholy yearning of the song filled the dark. Her hand stroked his hair, gathered it tight at the nape of his neck. She swayed, and he felt her press against his back, her breasts soft now, yielding and warm through his shirt, her breath tickling his ear. Her hand rested on his shoulder briefly, then slid down inside his shirt, fingers cool on his chest. He could feel the warm hard metal of her ring on his skin, and felt a surge of possession that pulsed through him like a gulp of whisky, a heat suffusing his flesh. He ached to turn and take hold of her, but pushed the urge down, heightening anticipation. He bent his head closer to the strings, and sang until all thought left him and there was nothing left but his body and hers. He could not have said when her hand closed over his on the frets, and he rose and turned to her, still filled with the music and his love, soft and strong and pure in the dark. — Diana Gabaldon

As Damiano strolled to the back platform, he returned her smile, white teeth against bronzed skin, then he dropped into the water. The man was sex on a stick.
MacRieve stepped in front of her, clasping her nape, jealousy ablaze in his expression. Eyes on the prize, woman. It's a werewolf you'll have, or none at all. — Kresley Cole

In better company, they found among all those hideous carcasses two skeletons, one of which held the other in its embrace. One of these skeletons, which was that of a woman, still had a few strips of a garment which had once been white, and around her neck was to be seen a string of adrezarach beads with a little silk bag ornamented with green glass, which was open and empty. These objects were of so little value that the executioner had probably not cared for them. The other, which held this one in a close embrace, was the skeleton of a man. It was noticed that his spinal column was crooked, his head seated on his shoulder blades, and that one leg was shorter than the other. Moreover, there was no fracture of the vertebrae at the nape of the neck, and it was evident that he had not been hanged. Hence, the man to whom it had belonged had come thither and had died there. When they tried to detach the skeleton which he held in his embrace, he fell to dust. — Victor Hugo

Promise me ye'll be careful."
"I'll gladly do that." A hand moved to her nape, a finger tickling the side of her neck. "Ye ken why?" he asked with a devilish grin.
"No." Her tongue grew dry.
His gaze dipped to her mouth. "'Cause ye still love me, lass." With one step in, his chest lightly brushed the tips of her breasts as he lowered his lips to hers. She caught a drift of his scent, part leather, part iron, part musk and entirely intoxicating male. With a rush of heat between her legs, Eva could no sooner resist him than to say no to warm double-chocolate-fudge-melting cake. The deep rumble of his sigh made tingles spread through the tips of her fingers as he deepened the pressure with soft, demanding lips — Amy Jarecki

Who neither touched nor spoke?
whose nape, whose finger-ends
nervelessly lied the hours away? — Adrienne Rich

The flesh on the nape of my neck did the crawly thing that it does so well. Some people say this is God's warning that the devil is near, but I've noticed I also experience it when someone serves me Brussels sprouts. — Dean Koontz

Echo and Shadow

A room
and a room. And between them

she leans in the doorway
to say something,

lintel bright above her face,
threshold dark beneath her feet,

her hands behind her head gathering
her hair to tie and tuck at the nape.

A world and a world.

Dying and not dying.
And between them
the curtains blowing
and the shadows they make on her body,

a shadow of birds, a single flock,
a myriad body of wings and cries
turning and diving in complex unison.
Shadow of bells,

or the shadow of the sound
they make in the air, mornings, evenings,
everywhere I wait for her,

as even now her voice
seems a lasting echo
of my heart's calling me home, its story
an ocean beyond my human beginning,

each wave tolling the whole note
of my outcome and belonging. — Li-Young Lee

We fall asleep as close as ears of wheat: chest to back, fingers entwined. I kiss the skin at the nape of her neck, soft like rabbit fur. I dream of nothing. — Kirsty Logan

Anyway ... she's asleep, turned away from me on her side. The usual stratagems and repositionings have failed to induce narcosis in me, so I decide to settle myself against the soft zigzag of her body. As I move and start to nestle my shin against a calf whose muscles are loosened by sleep, she sense what I'm doing, and without waking reaches up with her left hand and pulls the hair off her shoulders on the top of her head, leaving me her bare nape to nestle in. Each time she does this I feel a shudder of love at the exactness of this sleeping courtesy. My eyes prickle with tears, and I have to stop myself from waking her up to remind her of my love. At that moment, unconsciously, she's touched some secret fulcrum of my feelings for her. — Julian Barnes

Children, our lives have been gongs striking; clamour and boasting; cries of despair; blows on the nape of the neck in gardens. — Virginia Woolf

He never had any sense of decorum ... always kissing his wife in the most unsuitable places!' "(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.) "'But, — L.M. Montgomery

Ivy met me at the bottom of the steps. Her light brown hair was loosely coiffed at the nape of her neck. She wore a formfitting blazer as comfortably as most people wore sweatshirts. Even her jeans looked expensive. If she saw through my innocent act, she didn't call me on it. "Good," she said. "You're up. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Once his hair was smooth and free of mats, Martise ran the comb through it for sheer pleasure. He had beautiful hair, straight and black and falling to his waist. It spread across a strong back and wide shoulders, dampening his shirt to a transparent thinness. She slid her hand under its weight and caressed his nape with light strokes of the comb. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head in mute invitation for her to continue. He breathed deep, relaxing under her touch. Martise was anything but relaxed. She was on fire, recalling those moments in the library when he'd given her a taste of the passion burning within him. He was her dreams manifested, a bright and volatile star in a winter sky. — Grace Draven

I've seen ye so many times," he said, his voice whispering warm in my ear. "You've come to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes.When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, with your hair curling up about your face. But ye never spoke. And ye never touched me."
"I can touch you now." I reached up and drew my hand gently down his temple, his ear, the cheek and jaw that I could see. My hand went to the nape of his neck, under the clubbed bronze hair, and he raised his head at last, and cupped his face between my hands, love glowing strong in the dark blue eyes.
"Dinna be afraid," he said softly, "There's the two of us now. — Diana Gabaldon

Additionally, Adam's room had an absolutely massive bed with a plump feather tick that she knew they would put to good use.
"Shall we christen it now?" Adam whispered in her ear, his arms stealing around her from behind in spite of the footmen who were still busy bringing up their luggage. Skimming his lips over her cheek, he playfully caressed her nape in a way that never failed to drive her wild. "I could shoo them all out and lock the door. We wouldn't even have to take off our clothes, I could just tumble you down and toss up your skirts. What do you say, wife, shall I tup you now, or would you rather wait until later? — Tracy Anne Warren

I'm going to possess you, Charlotte,"
His free hand caressed the flesh of her throat, then threaded into the hair at her nape, pulling the strands there, tipping her head back. Not harshly, but not gently either. "I;m going to take you and claim you and make you beg."
His lips were breaths from hers. Breaths she couldn't count or take.
"The question is, will you passively accept such, or will you possess me right back," he whispered, nearly against her lips. "Take me, claim me? Make me beg? Push from my mind any though that isn't you? — Anne Mallory

Unbidden, a growl escaped him just as his lips brushed that heavenly skin and with one bite he pierced right through it. When her blood hit his tongue, he shook.
It was nectar, hot and wild and sweet, like the fiery kiss of a demon. His fingers twisted up into the glossy knot of hair at her nape, pulling it free, wrapping his fist in that silky skein. Forcing her up as his mouth came down harder, his fangs sliding deeper.
Rissa made a soft sound; whether of pleasure, encouragement or pain, it didn't matter.
Nothing fucking mattered. — Heather R. Blair

His hat nudged her forehead, tipping back as he deepened the kiss and drew her closer. His jaw was rough against her palm, and she savored the feel of it before slipping her fingers through the soft waves at his nape and straight up through the back of his hair. His hat hit the ground. "Abby . . ." he whispered. It was a plea, and she gladly answered it with her mouth. She loved the raspy drawl of her shortened name on his lips. — Denise Hunter

At some point on your road you have to turn and start walking back towards yourself. Or the past will pursue you, and bite the nape of your neck, leave you bleeding in the ditch. Better to turn and face it with such weapons as you possess. — Hilary Mantel

His heart slammed against his ribs, and joy flooded him, followed almost instantly by distress. Even from fifteen yards away he could see that she wore no makeup, and lines of fatigue were etched on her face. Her hair was restrained with a clip at the nape of her neck, and for the first time since he'd known her, she looked almost plain. Where was the Daisy who loved to primp and fuzz with her perfumes and powder? The Daisy who took such joy in dabbing herself with apricot scented lotion and raspberry red lipstick? Where was the daisy who used up all the hot water taking her showers and left a sticky film of hair spray on the bathroom door? Dry mouthed, he drank in the sight of her, and something broke apart inside him. This was Daisy as he'd made her. This was Daisy with her love light extinguished. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Won? He's one of them! How exactly is that winning?"
Michael shook his head, moved up behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed the nape of her neck gently. "I don't know, Eve. I'm just telling you what I heard. He got some kind of agreement out of the vampires. And it was because Amelie loved him."
"Yeah, loved him enough to kill him and turn him into a bloodsucking fiend," Eve said grimly. "How sweet. Romance isn't dead. Oh, wait. It is. — Rachel Caine

Viv closed her eyes, sick with regret. "Why do you act like no one ever loved you? I loved you."
For a second Regina's fingers were softer, almost caressing, at the nape of Viv's neck. "Hmm. Maybe you did. But it's funny ... how we want love from certain people, and if we don't get it from them, it'll never be enough coming from someone else. — Sarah Cross

Eli's long fingers cupped her face, traced the nape of her neck, kept her still, as if he needed to give her every bit of his attention, as if he could learn her like a language, plot her like a course. Eli kissed Gracie like she was a song and he was determined to hear every note. — Leigh Bardugo

No, don't, Evie said urgently as St. Vincent reached for the ties once more. She grappled with him, her fingers tangling with his. And then suddenly his mouth had caught hers, and he pushed her against the side of the building, anchoring her with his own body. His free hand caught the nape of her neck, beneath the weight of her damp hair. The lush pressure of his mouth caused a shock of response in every part of her body, all at once. — Lisa Kleypas

Tsornin's nostrils showed red, but his ears were as alert as ever, and occasionally he would rub his nose gently against the nape of her neck, just in case she was momentarily not thinking about him. — Robin McKinley

I never plan for the future but wander into it with a smile on my face, hope in my heart, and the hair up on the nape of my neck. — Dean Koontz

Who was blowing on the nape of my neck. — David Mitchell

He fingered her nape, massaging his sensual intent. I'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. Any time of day, you need relief, just crook your finger and I'll crook mine. Against you, inside you, deep as you need it. If I'm not around, text me and I'll come, ready to make you come. For one week, I'll fulfill every fantasy on demand and get you off so many times we'll break records. — Kate Meader

Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood - finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live without. — Jodi Picoult

Butch put his hand on his roommate's nape and murmured, I'll do the saving until you get your head back, how about that? I'll keep you safe. — J.R. Ward

He'd been kissing Laurent and that should not be interrupted. His eyes returned warmly, possessively to their object: Laurent looked like any young
man who has been pressed against a battlement and kissed. The slight disturbance of the hair at Laurent's nape was wonderful. — C.S. Pacat

He lowered his voice and leaned in so his breath caressed her face. "I'll give you everything I am. I swear it. If you trust me you'll never have any reason to regret it. Start a life with me, Mary. Let's leave the past behind and create a new future together." Fingers twined in the wet hair at her nape so that she had to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact. "Let me love you, angel eyes. — Aline Hunter

The faint freckle on her throat sent another thrill through him. He wanted to touch it, to whisper against it, I've found you. For that matter, the slope of her neck begged to be brushed with a hand. His hand, before he cupped her nape and guided her gently backward onto a bed . — Meredith Duran

Trust and intimacy, he thought, smiling contentedly when Kevin wrapped one arm around his waist, and buried his nose in Cedric's nape. That's what it came down to at the end. It wasn't all about the sex, or about knowing each other's every secret and background. It was about feeling fulfilled, forming a bond, and knowing you belonged together. — Taylor V. Donovan

She knew nothing of Ren except his name, his aptitude with vocabulary, the fact that he wasn't in college, and the way his hair narrowed to a curling point at the nape of his neck. And she hadn't even realized she knew that last thing until now. — Molly Ringle

His wolf was triumphant. At last, she recognized him. He scented her panic and swooped in, determined to nip it in the bud. His hand closed on her neck. The curls at her nape tickled his palm Drake wrapped her ponytail around his fist as she tried to back away. A brief warning growl left his lips as they covered hers in a soul-searing kiss. — Chudney Thomas

I wanted him. I arched my back, fully aware of how vulnerable that made me and that I was giving him an invitation. He accepted it and laid me back against the table, bringing his body down on top of mine. That crushing kiss of his moved from my mouth to the nape of my neck. He pushed down the edge of my dress and the bra strap underneath, exposing my shoulder and giving his lips more skin to conquer. — Richelle Mead

Oh Carrie," he breathes in my ear, "there are so many places I want to touch you."
"Above the shoulder?"
"No. Though I love your neck, and it's worth exploring more. So if I were there, I would start at your nape right where those small dark curls point into the hollow, where I can feel your goose bumps against my tongue when I bite into you. — Mary Ann Rivers

Years ago you followed someone
here, in love with breath
kissing the nape of your neck,
back when it was easy to be
at least two places at once. — Yusef Komunyakaa

She's got long dark hair, neatly secured at the nape of her neck, and wide honey-colored eyes with the same thick, dark eyelashes as Jase. Her eyes are weary though, and are currently sizing me up. I wonder what Jase has told her about me. — Anonymous

The goal, I suppose, any fiction writer has, no matter what your subject, is to hit the human heart and the tear ducts and the nape of the neck and to make a person feel something about the characters are going through and to experience the moral paradoxes and struggles of being human. — Tim O'Brien

Don't you know? Don't you know how crazy I am about you?" My hands fist in his shirt and I stare into his eyes, blinking slowly. I guess I did know, but I never imagined he might say it. He cradles my neck in his hand, thumb stroking my nape. "I - I love you so much." He says it quietly, but it's like a bomb going off. — Roan Parrish

I brought my hand to the back of his neck and leaned into him, sliding my fingers into the curls at his nape. His arms clasped tighter around me. I sighed just a little against his mouth, feeling that it was almost too much, all this newness, this feeling that there was space and light inside me I'd never noticed before. Every part of me down to my fingertips felt like reworked glass, melting into some new shape, my edges beginning to glow. I wanted to do nothing but change this way, pressed against his body, his warmth and goodness, forever. — Betsy Cornwell