No More Kiss Quotes & Sayings

Who the fuck are you? Davy, were you on a fucking date?" Kurt wasn't sure how to express the anger coursing through him without an assault charge, and even though the asshole was no longer kissing or touching Davy, he was getting more irate.

"What the fuck Kurt?"

Ripping his mouth away, Davy panted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Kissing you." Or perhaps devouring.

"What makes it okay for you to kiss me and not Andrew?" The words weren't a simple question, but a sneering mockery. Kurt's anger returned full force and his hands moved to Davy's hair, yanking his mouth back within easy reach. "You're mine," he snarled before shoving his tongue back in Davy's mouth. — K.C. Burn

There was no mistake," he said. "You freely gave me a kiss because I kept silent about supposed engagement."
Well, you could have been more gentlemanly about it," she said with a sniff.
"If I'd been gentlemanly, you wouldn't have enjoyed it half as much. — Vicky Dreiling

She made me a stranger unto myself, she was all of those calm nights and tall eucalyptus trees, the desert stars, that land and sky, that fog outside, and I had come there with no purpose save to be a mere writer, to get money, to make a name for myself and all that piffle. She was so much finer than I, so much more honest, that I was sick of myself and I could not look at her warm eyes, I suppressed the shiver brought on by her brown arms around my neck and the long fingers in my hair. I did not kiss her. She kissed me, author of The Little Dog Laughed. — John Fante

Hey, is this what they call the gay agenda?" Spirit Wire called. "Gay boys indoctrinating two innocent, uber straight girls with dirty same-sex kissing?"
"What, are you feeling a little gay yet? No? Okay, let me kiss him some more and see what happens," Calais yelled back. I thought I heard Miss Pyro snort and giggle. — Hayden Thorne

You can no more keep a Martini in the refrigerator than you can keep a kiss there. — Bernard DeVoto

She groaned and tucked her fingers between my side and the mattress. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to the cold air here."
I chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Just wait 'til it snows."
"Ugh," she moaned.
"I'll turn the heat up," I said and started to move from beneath her. She clutched me closer and made a sound of determination. I laughed. It thrilled the shit out of me that she liked having me so close. "I thought you were cold," I said affectionately.
"But you're warm."
"I'll come right back."
"Kiss me," she demanded. She was definitely a shy person, but the more time we spent together, the less shy she was with me when we were alone. I loved it. It was like getting a glimpse of the person no one else saw. — Cambria Hebert

He kissed me fiercely, with an utter abandon that I could no more put a halt to than I could stop an avalanche. — Colleen Houck

The kiss that was pressed against his own mouth was reverent, the contact no heavier than the warm, still air in the room. It was the consummate lover's kiss, the kind of thing he had wanted even more than the hot sex they'd just had. — J.R. Ward

Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?" - William
That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.
"So that's a no?" William asked.
Paris worked his jaw. "Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge." With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, "So not cool," from the bastard as he fell ... fell..
Splat.
Paris worked — Gena Showalter

Zara." He sighs. The wind bellows outside. "How can I make you understand this? I need your mom. If I don't get her, more boys will die."
"That's ridiculous."
"No, it's just how it is."
I think for a second. "If that's true, then why did Ian try to turn me?"
He loses his composure. His face shifts into something worried, something almost human. "Did he kiss you?"
"Almost. Betty killed him first."
He almost smiles. He pulls his hand through his hair. "Betty is fierce."
"Is that why you stay away when she's here?"
"Not even a pixie wants to tangle with a tiger."
He blows on the ember in his hand. It turns to dust.
"You seem like you could handle almost anything," I say.
"This?" He smirks. "Parlor tricks. — Carrie Jones

You are pure flame. I touch you and I ignite. I kiss you and I burn to have more. You consume me ... like no other woman before you, and, I am certain, like no other ever could again. — Lara Adrian

William slapped him on the shoulder, sending Sex into rapturous convulsions. "Before we do this, I've got one question for you. And you can't lie. This is too important."
A bit sick to his stomach at what such a debaucher could want to know, Paris cast his attention to the black-haired, blue-eyed he-devil. "Ask."
"Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?"
That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.
"So that's a no?" William asked.
Paris worked his jaw. "Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge." With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, " So not cool," from the bastard as he fell ... fell ...
Splat. — Gena Showalter

When she'd finished, she cut the thread with a pair of scissors, patted the wound once more and stepped back. "Better."
"No bandage?"
She shook her head. "No bandage. Need air."
"All right. I guess you're the doctor." He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap. Even in the midst of inflicting pain she'd aroused his lust. "Don't I get a reward for being a good patient?"
"I don't understand." She delivered the all-purpose phrase he'd taught her.
"Reward. A kiss."
The grooves in her cheeks flashed as her lips turned up. "Yes, you need a kiss." And she bent her head to give him one. — Bonnie Dee

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

A noble madiden must convery diginity and chstity wihotut appearing to think about either one. Let common-born girls tuddle in the hay with their loutish swains. the future of your familys bloodline and your furture lord's bloodline should be your grearest concern. Let no man but one of your family embrace you. Let no man but your betrothed kiss any more than your fingertips; let your betrothed kiss you only on fingers, cheek, or forhead, lest he think you unchaste. and enver allow yourself to be alone wiht a man, to safeguard the percioud jewel of your reputaiotn. No well-born maigen e vetr suffered form keeping her cuitors at arms length. You cbhastity will make you a prize to your future husbands house and an honor to your own.
- form adivce to younge noblewomen, by lady fronia of whitehall (in Maren). given to ally on her twelfth birhdya by her godmother, Queen Thayet, — Tamora Pierce

Also, I was living in the middle of my parents' marriage. No one ever says this about families, and maybe people who aren't only children don't even notice it, but half the time I feel like I'm this extra person watching them have a marriage. They fight, they kiss, they discuss the inlaws, they do projects, they take down the Christmas tree and reminisce about things I don't remember, they fight some more-and it's all this personal stuff that I really have no business witnessing, except I have nowhere else to go because I live here. I'm just trying to eat my dinner and instead I'm in the middle of this grown-up relationship that is complicated and disgustingly mushy and sometimes angry. — E. Lockhart

Yet losing him seemed unbearable. He was the one she loved, the one she would always love, and as he leaned in to kiss her, she gave herself over to him. While he held her close, she ran her hands over his shoulders and back, feeling the strength in his arms. She knew he'd wanted more in their relationship than she'd been willing to offer, but here and now, she suddenly knew she had no other choice. There was only this moment, and it was theirs. — Nicholas Sparks

My dear Princess, if you could creep unseen about your City, peeping at will through the curtain-shielded windows, you would come to think that all the world was little else than a big nursery full of crying children with none to comfort them. The doll is broken: no longer it sweetly sqeaks in answer to our pressure, "I love you, kiss me." The drum lies silent with the drumstick inside, no longer do we make a brave noise in the nursery. The box of tea-things we have clumsily put out foot upon; there will be no more merry parties around the three-legged stool. The tin trumpet will not play the note we want to sound; the wooden bricks keep falling down; the toy has exploded and burnt our fingers. Never mind, little man, little woman, we will try and mend things to-morrow — Jerome K. Jerome

When I knelt to kiss her hand, she sighed heavily. 'Ask me nothing,' she said. 'Life itself is too joyless to be more embittered by explanations. Let all rest between us as now. I will love coldly, you warmly, with no nearer approaching.'
("The Basilisk") — R. Murray Gilchrist

She walks to the boy, tilts her head up at him, and smiles. He bends down to kiss her. Then he helps her onto the horse, and she rides away with him to a faraway place, until they can no longer be seen.
These are only rumors, of course, and make little more than a story to tell around the fire. But it is told. And thus they live on. — Marie Lu

Sitting on the ground, she looked up at her best friend. "Danke," she said. "Thank you."
Rudy bowed. "My pleasure." He tried for a little more. "No point asking if I get a kiss for that, I guess?"
"For bringing my shoes, which you left behind?"
"Fair enough." He held up his hands and continued speaking as they walked on, and Liesel made a concerted effort to ignore him. She only heard the last part. "Probably wouldn't want to kiss you anyway
not if your breath's anything like your shoes."
"You disgust me," she informed him, and she hoped he couldn't see the escaped beginnings of a smile that had fallen from her mouth. — Markus Zusak

Whenever the urge to kiss him came over me, I would kiss him. No more living life halfway. We had to go full tilt, just like the card players did. I would hit instead of stay. Always. We — Emma Scott

Wait," Kaidan called from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, but kept walking. Then I felt his hand around my
wrist, spinning me in a half circle and pulling me to his chest. His face was so close. He reached down and cupped my face with one
woolly hand, and wiped the top corner of my lip hard with his thumb. I flinched back.
"What are you doing?"
"I ... " He appeared to have no idea himself. "I wanted to see your freckle."
A vulnerable tenderness flashed across his face, more painful to see than the coldness. It took every ounce of strength I had not to
beg for one last kiss. As fast as his expression had softened, it was back to stone again.
"What do you want from me, Kai?"
"For starters?" His voice lowered to sexy, dangerous depths. "I want to introduce myself to every freckle on your body."
A powerful shiver ripped through me. — Wendy Higgins

When it's time to leave, we put on our shoes, kiss Daddy good-bye, and tumble out the front door. Waiting for us on the street in front of his car is Peter with a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped pink carnations. "Happy birthday, kid," he says. Kitty's eyes bulge. "Are those for me?" He laughs. "Who else would they be for? Hurry and get in the car." Kitty turns to me, her eyes bright, her smile as wide as her face. I'm smiling too. "Are you coming too, Lara Jean?" I shake my head. "No, there's only room for two." "You're my only girl today, kid," Peter says, and Kitty runs to him and snatches the flowers out of his hand. Gallantly, he opens the door for her. He shuts it and turns and winks at me. "Don't be jealous, Covey." I've never liked him more than in this moment. — Jenny Han

I'm not going anywhere, Empress," he said with a wicked smile. "I merely want a better look."
He had lifted her skirts even higher before she fully comprehended the meaning of his words and struggled to sit up. "No..." she said, embarrassed by the very idea that he might want to see such an intimate place.
He reached up, running one hand to the back of her neck and pulling her toward him for a searing kiss. When she had softened against him once more, he released her from the caress and said, "Oh, yes, Empress. — Sarah MacLean

"I'm not trying to lead you on. Or him, either."
Jeb's frown deepens. "I know you're not playing games. I also know you're not the kind of girl who kisses a guy for no reason."
"You're right. The first time was to get my wish back. And the second ... it was supposed to be a peck on the cheek. He changed it to something more."
"Oh, come on!" Jeb shouts, causing me to flinch. "This is what makes me crazy. That you can't admit it to me or yourself. You kissed him because you have feelings for him." — A.G. Howard

How many others will come, Ivy? How many more will appear to kiss my wife goodbye?"
Crap-shit! No Midnight? She rolled her eyes. "No one else. I promise."
Carson turned his blue gaze on her, cold and menacing. "Do you have any idea how it felt to see his hands on you - innocent or not? I wanted to fucking kill him." He ran both his hands through his hair. "I still do. — Beth Mikell

I appeared before him now, he had no such honeyed terms as "love" and "darling" on his lips: the best words at my service were "provoking puppet," "malicious elf," "sprite," "changeling," &c. For caresses, too, I now got grimaces; for a pressure of the hand, a pinch on the arm; for a kiss on the cheek, a severe tweak of the ear. It was all right: at present I decidedly preferred these fierce favours to anything more tender. — Charlotte Bronte

He dipped his head to kiss her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he slowly lowered her back to the floor. He took his time tasting her lips, her tongue, memorizing the feel of her curves against him. He pulled back and looked into her eyes.
She gripped the front of his shirt, holding him in place. "Don't stop."
"No, no more stopping." He kissed her again, getting lost in the blur of clothes being tossed off, her skin under his fingertips, and the hum of his heart as he fully let himself fall. — Cindi Madsen

He hadn't wooed her, but had simply claimed her. A gold mine ready to dig. There should have been a period of quiet dinners together, of flowers rather than diamonds, of kisses given after permission to kiss, of a slow awakening that predisposed her to greater intimacies. But no, not the great Alexander Kinross! He had met her, he had married her the next day, and climbed into her bed after one kiss in the church. There to prove himself an animal in her eyes. One mistake after another, that was the story of his relationship with Elizabeth. And Ruby had always meant more. — Colleen McCullough

I love you too. I love you so much that the thought of being without you for a minute breaks my heart. I don't think I've gone more than an hour all week without crying my guts out, and I never want to feel that again. I want you with me always. You were my first hero, my first friend, my first kiss, and my first love. And I hope you'll be the one I share the rest of my firsts with; because there is no one else I could ever love as much as I love you. — Codi Gary

Tightening his arms, Zane closed them further around Ty as he met the kiss with more strength, dizzy with the surprise and desire blasting through him. This was beyond crazy. Beyond negligent. Just ... beyond. All the hate and anger was morphing into heat and passion and he had no idea what to think about it — Abigail Roux

He reached out a hand, and when she didnt move he curved fingers around her forearm slowly, as if afraid she'd dart away. He drew her toward him and his eyes slid shut as he inhaled. "Cinnamon and wild spice" One hand reached up and curled into her hair. "There was a woman last night, at the game." She froze in his arms. "Blonde hair, lithe, willing." Eyes caressed her face. "But the eyes were wrong, the color, the shape. Her scent." "Did you -" She swallowed. "Did you kiss her?" She couldnt ask if he'd done more. "No, I couldnt." His thumb ran over her bottom lip. "Her lips were completely wrong. How could I?" Her breath caught as his eyes held hers. "Oh." And something inside her, some devil, prompted her to add, "And mine?" "Perfect." He pulled her the rest of the way toward him and her lips met his. — Anne Mallory

I tried for a decade not to feel anything," I said. I didn't wipe away the tear that broke free. He'd already seen me cry. Erwin had seen me in literally every humor except perfectly happy. I had nothing to hide. "Why are you making this happen?"
He leaned in and we opened the space between ourselves once more just so he could kiss the tear away from my cheek. You sonofabitch, I mouthed but did not say.
"Are you sure it's all me? — Vee Hoffman

Matilda?" he said softly as he lowered his head to mine, his eyes shifting to gaze at my lips, then back to my eyes.
He was going to kiss me.
( ... ) "Y-yes?" I breathed.
His lips were almost on mine. His body bent over me, closer, closer. I thought I'd burst for want.
I held my breath and closed my eyes.
His fingers squeezed the back of my neck, gentle and possessive.
"If you make me late," he murmured, his breath warm across my mouth, "I will throttle you."
Wait. What?
My eyes snapped open.
( ... ) By the time I pulled my thoughts together, he was already out the door. His voice floated back to me. "Move, Matilda. We're late."
That was it? No kiss? What was wrong with that man? He was sending off more mixed signals than a three-armed traffic cop. — Devon Monk

He felt it coming. He needed to be more to this woman than just the guy who showed up begging her to sing his songs. He...
He had no time to make a move before she came across the cab and planted her lips against his. — Bernadette Marie

-"This is incredible Ryn. It is. But-"
-"No." He turns around. "No buts. You think I'm going to hurt you? You think I'm going to get bored and run off with some Undergrounder the first chance I get? You obviously have no idea how amazing you are. You, Violet Fairdale, are incredible, and I want you. Every part of you. I want your stubbornness and your sarcasm and your competitive spirit. I want you challenging me and fighting beside me. I want to hold you and kiss you and so much more because there's no one else in the world who knows me like you do. You have always been the one for me, even when we couldn't stand each other. You're beautiful and hot and sexy all at once, and you're more intelligent than any girl I've met. I love the fact that I've known you all my life. It just feels right when you're beside me. It feel like I've been lost in the desert for years, and ... I've finally come home. — Rachel Morgan

Tony's Kiss
Is like no other kiss, ever.
It wants, but does not demand.
It asks, but doesn't take.
It gives, and pleads for more.
It is filled with desire,
but also curiosity,
and it teaches me that a kiss should
come gift wrapped, not stripped naked. Most of all,
it makes me want another kiss
exactly like this one. — Ellen Hopkins

Oh," I whispered.
"Fuck, I'm not even close."
"To what?"
"The heart of you. You run so fuckin' deep, I'll never get there."
God.
"Lookin' forward to a lifetime of diggin', babe."
God!
"Now you're being sweet," I accused, my voice wobbly.
"Used to it yet?"
"No."
"You got a lifetime to get there too."
Seriously.
I could take no more.
"Shut up."
"I will, you kiss me."
"Rush and/or Tabby might be here any minute."
"I didn't tell you to go down on me. — Kristen Ashley

Bella ... my sweet little flower," he said softly, reverently as he took her head between his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "After over four hundred years of solitude, I think I am ready for you and an entire barrel full of children. Nothing could please me more."
"Oh, Jacob," she sighed with delight, kissing his lips eagerly. "How did I get so lucky?"
"Well, as I recall ... you had the bad luck to fall out of a window."
"Ah, but that was good luck, because you caught me."
"No, little flower," he murmured, pausing to kiss her deeply and thoroughly. "I think it is safe to say that you are the one who caught me. — Jacquelyn Frank

Did you - did you change your mind about the kiss?" "No." How could he, when he craved it more than a tomorrow? "You may not give me another chance. I want to savor every moment of this." "If we're going to be fools, we need to get it over with. Savor later." Obviously tired of waiting for him, she latched on to his cheeks and tugged him all the way down. He fell on top of her, and her breath burst out on a gasp. He inhaled deeply, taking every molecule inside his lungs, branding himself with her essence. "This means nothing," she said. "Less than nothing," he lied. "I'll hate myself later." "I hate myself now." She opened her mouth to reply, but he swooped in and swallowed the words. — Gena Showalter

That's the problem, Frankie. That's why I'm not kissing you right now. A kiss just isn't a kiss. It's no ordinary thing. One day perhaps I can prove that to you. People have died from wanting - desiring - a mere kiss; it's more complex than you believe it to be. You're very pretty ... beautiful even. But you shouldn't let just any guy kiss you. It should be meaningful. And you shouldn't be so willing to share your lips with him. Sharing your lips loosely is nearly as intimate as sharing other parts of yourself. One teases and tempts the other, in a great prelude. I'd like to think you don't kiss very often. — Rae Hachton

Catherine Land liked the beginnings of things. The pure white possibility of the empty room, the first kiss, the first swipe at larceny. And endings, she liked endings, too. The drama of the smashing glass, the dead bird, the tearful goodbye, the last awful word which could never be unsaid or unremembered.
It was the middles that gave her pause. This, for all its forward momentum, this was a middle. The beginnings were sweet, the endings usually bitter, but the middles were only the tightrope you walked between the one and the other. No more than that. — Robert Goolrick

There are no fans more rabid or devoted than KISS fans. KISS fans are what all other fans are measured against. That's how it came to be known as the KISS Army. — Paul Stanley

You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river ... you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words ... I love you ... it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know."
"I know. — J.M. Darhower

I have to go home, Masi.
You are my home, bella. I am lost without you. He couldn't speak. There were no words to recoil the loss consuming him. Massimo brought his hands up to her face. Kissing her one last time. He had to for his sanity. And he did with great passion, knowing he'd hurt her face when she kissed him back. But she did. He heard the cry in her throat as their tongues danced. Warm tears touched his palms as they continued to kiss. His fingertips were wet with sadness. He kept on kissing her. Unable to stop, he needed ten more seconds. Ti amo, I love you. Please don't leave. I've waited my whole life for you. When he pulled his face back, she cried, and he realized he did also. — Avery Aster

I couldn't believe my good luck when you came back to the bar," he confessed. His voice sounded hoarse, grinding out past the lump in his throat. "You're even more beautiful now than you were when I met you."

She wasn't all that impressed by his honesty. "You liked that I was only interested in hooking up for one night."

"True. But I wouldn't have said no to a second." He pressed a kiss to her lips, then another for emphasis, and tossed the ball back to her. "I wouldn't say no to one now, either. — Paula Altenburg

Konnor said a silent prayer and made his move. He slid his hand over the curve of Grayson's neck and took the gigantic leap into the unknown. He kissed him.
A few braincells died the moment Grayson kissed him back. Then a few more, when those perfect lips he'd been admiring for the last six months opened beneath his kiss.
He kissed Grayson the way he'd always wanted to kiss him, teasing those parted lips with a lick of appreciation before slipping his tongue into his mouth. A tongue brushed his and he moaned at the little shots of pleasure that coursed through his whole body.
Kissing Grayson was better than any sex with Tam. Just as he'd always known it would be. He had always found kissing to be such an intimate thing, so delicious and nerve shattering. No physical thing could say what a kiss could; not in his mind. — Elaine White

When they do, I reach up, laying my hand on his cheek. Our kisses turn heated. My legs squeeze Honey Badger's sides, causing him to trot ahead next to Wayra. When Trey notices, he has to rein in our spix, breaking our kiss. We both look over at Wayra, who is smirking at us. He nods his head in greeting to Trey. "Sir." Trey nods back. "Wayra.""Did you need something, sir?" Wayra asks with amusement in his tone. "No. I have everything I need," he replies. "Carry on." Trey pulls us back behind Wayra once more.
Bartol, Amy A. (2015-03-31). Sea of Stars (The Kricket Series Book 2) (pp. 241-242). 47North. Kindle Edition. — Amy A. Bartol

She shouldn't encourage him, shouldn't be allowing him to kiss her, to touch her. He was a dragon, the son of Ares, and dangerous. Yet, she wanted more of him. No, she craved more. It was crazy. They just met. — Lia Davis

Give me a kiss to build a dream on
And my imagination will thrive upon that kiss
Sweetheart, I ask no more than this
A kiss to build a dream on. — Louis Armstrong

No use lamenting over it! I was now living in a blaze of unsatisfied desire, of suspenseful expectancy, that often made me wild and crazy. I often saw the image of my dream beloved before me with more than lifelike clarity, much more clearly than my own hand; I spoke to it, wept before it, cursed it. I called it mother and knelt before it in tears; I called it beloved and sensed its ripe, all-fulfilling kiss; I called it devil and whore, vampire and murderess. It lured me into the tenderest dreams of love and into acts of dissolute shamelessness; nothing was too good and precious for it, nothing too bad and vile. — Hermann Hesse

Paolo and Francesca were not ideal readers since they confess to Dante that after the first kiss they read no more. Ideal readers would have kissed and then read on. — Alberto Manguel

instead of mourning, instead of a moment of silence or a hateful, islamophobic message, how about today we make the world a little brighter?
be kinder. be a little gentler, with yourself and others. take more pictures. tell more jokes. be a better human.
today is a lot more than a tragedy. today is a birthday. a day of suicide awareness. a wedding. a birth. a new job. today is a kiss and someone on a tarred over warehouse roof whispering about the day the earth stood still and the day it began spinning again.
be kind. just be kind. it's time we took this day back for the wild ones, for the fiery eyes, for the happy and the brave and the new. no more mourning. let it just be a sunday. — Taylor Rhodes

Drustan raked a hand through his hair and fumbled in the dark for the door. When it didn't budge, a part of him was unsurprised. Yet another part of him met the fact with a kind of glad resignation.
She wanted battle? Battle she would get. It would be a pleasure to have it out with her finally. Once he'd ripped the door from the framing, he would exact vengeance upon her wee body with gleeful abandon. No more honorable I-won't-touch-you-because-I'm-betrothed. Nay he'd touch her. Any damn place and any damn way he wanted to. As many times as he wanted to. Until she begged and whimpered beneath him. She'd been trying to drive him mad? Well, he was giving in to it. He would act like the animal she made him feel like being. The hell with Anya, the hell with duty and honor, the hell with discipline. He needed to tup. Her. Now. — Karen Marie Moning

Take hands.
There is no love now.
But there are hands.
There is no joining now,
But a joining has been
Of the fastening of fingers
And their opening.
More than the clasp even, the kiss
Speaks loneliness,
How we dwell apart,
And how love triumphs in this. — Laura Riding Jackson

The kiss became a drug and i craved more with every touch. Our bodies twined so tightly to one another, i had no idea where i began and he ended. — Katie McGarry

Desolate city. Snow on the streets. Fire in the sky.
It could have been one of a hundred wars.
But there-
The place on the street where the snow had melted. The dark crater in the sea of white.Daniel sank to his knees and reached for the ring of black ash stained on the ground.He closed his eyes.And he remembered the precise way she had died in his arms.
Moscow.1941.
So this was what she was doing-tunneling into her past lives. Hoping to understand.
The thing was,there was no rhyme or reason to her deaths.More than anyone, Daniel knew that.
But there were certain lifetimes when he'd tried to shed some light for her,hoping it would change things. Sometimes he'd hoped to keep her alive longer,though that never really worked. Sometimes-like this time during the siege of Moscow-he'd chosen to send her on her way more quickly.To spare her.So that his kiss could be the last thing she felt in that lifetime. — Lauren Kate

The kiss was the definition of perfect. True, it lacked the heat, the passion, the breathlessness of the living-world kiss she had given Milos, but this had something greater. More than a flash of fire, it had an unbreakable, perhaps eternal bond of connection. Mikey had transformed back into himself by the end of the kiss, and the moment their lips parted he knew, as he should have known long, long ago, that no one - not Milos, not another Afterlight, not anyone in any world - could ever come between him and Allie, from now until the day they met their maker. — Neal Shusterman

She hadn't said a word about his comment concerning marrying her. If she was of the French nobility, she might not wish to marry him. But still, he was of the mind he would change her thoughts concerning the matter - despite that he had no title or lands to call his own. What Highlander could say that he had a wife who would fight a Highland warrior, wielding only a pitchfork, or that she would raise a Highlander's sword to fight a Viking warrior to protect him?
Her stories fascinated him, and he was thinking that if he had a bairn with her, how she would tell the child her delightful tales. And he would settle down with them to listen, too. Most of all, he loved the way she worried about his health, snuggled with him as if it was for more than warmth, and even kissed him back when he weakly attempted to kiss her earlier. — Terry Spear

I want you to make love to me, Eros," he whispers in the darkness of the bedroom. "Now. Tomorrow. Always."

I kiss the tip of my finger and place it over his lips to stop him from saying more. I can't listen to him use words like always, or even tomorrow. As bad as I ache at the thought of watching him walk away from me, I know there is no tomorrow for the two of us, regardless of what happens with him and Kathleen.

"Ssh. Let's just enjoy tonight, okay? — Candi Kay

Kathleen doesn't look like you," Henry said suddenly, staring at me.
"Uh, no. She doesn't. Not really," I stammered, not knowing what else to say. Without another word, Henry turned and left the kitchen. I heard him run up the stairs and looked at Georgia who met my gaze with bafflement.
"Did you hear that, woman?" I asked Georgia. "Henry doesn't think Kathleen looks like me. You got something to tell me?"
Kathleen shrieked again. Georgia wasn't moving fast enough with the jar of bananas she'd produced.
Georgia smirked and stuck out her tongue at me, and Kathleen bellowed. Georgia hastily dipped the tiny spoon into the yellow goo and proceeded to feed our little beast, who wailed as she inhaled.
"She may not look like you, Moses. But she definitely has your sunny disposition," Georgia sassed, but she leaned into me when I dropped a kiss on her lips. It didn't hurt my feelings at all that my dimpled baby girl looked more like her mother. — Amy Harmon

Even though I didn't notice it while it was happening, I got reminded in ninth grade of a few things I guess I should have known all along.
1. A first kiss after five months means more than a first kiss after five minutes.
2. Always remember what it was like to be six.
3. Never, ever stop believing in magic, no matter how old you get. Because if you keep looking long enough and don't give up, sooner or later you're going to find Mary Poppins. And if you're reall lucky, maybe even a purple balloon. — Steve Kluger

His eyes darkened in frustration.
"I'm tired of waiting, Thalia. I'm not a patient person. You have to know."
"What do you mean, Keal? You know I like Joss." I tried to move away again, but his hands on either side of me pinned me in. Keal's determination scared me.
"You know what we share is infinitely more powerful than ... that. And you feel this between us, too," he growled. "You melt when I kiss you. You watch me when you think I'm unaware. You can't sleep unless I'm near. Tell me none of that is true."
I swallowed nervously and licked my lips. "No, that's all true."
"I promised your father I'd give you time, but I'm tired of waiting. Tired of watching Joss try and win your heart from me."
"Keal, I don't understand. Ho is joss keeping you from me, when you and I don't think of one another that way?
"Don't think
Thalia! You and I are lifemates. — Chanda Hahn

He wanted to give her more than that. Sex with him would never be just another thing she ticked off her list. It would be all-consuming and no matter how they ended up, this woman would always remember her nights with him as some of the best she'd ever had. His pride demanded nothing less. His love for her could give nothing less. — Arielle Hudson

Most Like an Arch This Marriage
Most like an arch - an entrance which upholds
and shores the stone-crush up the air like lace.
Mass made idea, and idea held in place.
A lock in time. Inside half-heaven unfolds.
Most like an arch - two weaknesses that lean
into a strength. Two fallings become firm.
Two joined abeyances become a term
naming the fact that teaches fact to mean.
Not quite that? Not much less. World as it is, what's strong and separate falters. All I do
at piling stone on stone apart from you
is roofless around nothing. Till we kiss
I am no more than upright and unset.
It is by falling in and in we make
the all-bearing point, for one another's sake,
in faultless failing, raised by our own weight. — John Ciardi

He smoothed his fingers along her jawline and lifted her chin, kissing her gently, testing.
Lindsey went light-headed with the rush of sensation, the touch of his lips leaving her longing for more. Clutching his shirt in her fingers - napkin and all - she pulled him closer, melting into his kiss. Carden took it from tentative to tender, then parted her lips with the velvety sweep of his tongue. She matched his languid rhythm, hypnotized. He was all chocolate and caramel, creamy cool and sweet.
'Sinfully delicious'.
No doubt he was 31 flavors of trouble, but resisting him seemed impossible. — Tracy March

I love, I can only love the one I've left behind, stained with my blood when, ungrateful wretch that I am, I extinguished myself and shot myself through the heart. But never, never have I ceased to love that one, and even on the night I parted from him I loved him perhaps more poignantly than ever. We can truly love only with suffering and through suffering! We know not how to love otherwise. We know no other love. I want suffering in order to love. I want and thirst this very minute to kiss , with tears streaming down my cheeks, this one and only I have left behind. I don't want and won't accept any other.
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

As regards structure, comedy has come a long way since Shakespeare, who in his festive conclusions could pair off any old shit and any old fudge-brained slag (see Claudio and Hero in Much Ado) and get away with it. But the final kiss no longer symbolizes anything and well-oiled nuptials have ceased to be a plausible image of desire. That kiss is now the beginning of the comic action, not the end that promises another beginning from which the audience is prepared to exclude itself. All right? We have got into the habit of going further and further beyond the happy-ever-more promise: relationships in decay, aftermaths, but with everyone being told a thing or two about themselves, busy learning from their mistakes. So, in the following phase, with the obstructive elements out of the way (DeForest, Gloria) and the consummation in sight, the comic action would have been due to end, happily. But who is going to believe that any more? — Martin Amis

Neither knew it at the time, but a line had been crossed that could not be uncrossed- a running leap over a chasm of ignorance and misunderstanding between species and worlds ... and a baby step taken into life's endless possibilities for wonder and joy and surprise that could no more be reversed than one's first taste of chocolate.
A dog kiss. — Berkeley Breathed

Eve." He placed himself in front of her again. "We can't have any more than today, but we can have today."

"What are you suggesting?" Eve's pulse raced, wildfire in her veins.

Marcus gripped her by the shoulders, his mouth opening ravenously on hers, and then he broke the kiss as suddenly as it had begun. "For today, at least, we could pretend we have each other, and no one else. No demands, no promises to keep. — Sherri Browning

With well-feigned impatience, he asked, "Don't you recognize a man who's urgently trying to impress his woman with his good deeds?"
"No, is that what you're doing?"
"Most definitely." He did kiss her, but only a swift brush of his lips, a tease that made her want for more. "Although I suspect it has lost its impact since I had to point it out. — Christina Dodd

Could you just ask? I know we used to hate each other but I've come to think I might like you quite a lot. Any chance you like me, at all? Gods, it sounded absurd. All her life she'd been pushing folk away, she had no idea where to start at pulling one in. What if he looked at her as if she was mad? The thought yawned like a pit at her feet. What do you mean, like? Like, like like? Should she just take hold of him and kiss him? She kept thinking about it. She hardly thought about anything else any more. — Joe Abercrombie

A sneeze travels at a peak velocity of two hundred miles per hour. A burp, more slowly; a fart, slower yet. But a kiss thrown by fingers- its departure is sudden, its arrival ambiguous, and there is no source that can state with authority what speeds are reached in its flight. — Tom Robbins

That was some first kiss," she said with a tired, contented expression.
I scanned her face and smiled. "Your last first kiss."
Abby blinked, and then I fell onto the mattress beside her, reaching across her bare middle. Suddenly the morning was something to look forward to. It would be our first day together, and instead of packing in poorly concealed misery, we could sleep in, spend a ridiculous amount of the morning in bed, and then just enjoy the day as a couple. That sounded pretty damn close to heaven to me. Three months ago, no one could have convinced me that I would feel that way. Now, there was nothing else I wanted more.
A big, relaxing breath moved my chest up and down, relaxing slowly as I fell asleep next to the second woman I'd ever loved. — Jamie McGuire

Nice tackle, babe, he said. And then he kissed me. No doubt about the intention this time. Not the sort of kiss you'd give your cousin, for instance. More like the sort of kiss a man would give a woman when he wanted to rip her clothes off and give her a reason to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. — Janet Evanovich

Hyacinth," he said.
She looked at him expectantly.
"Hyacinth," he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. "Hyacinth."
"We know her name," came his grandmother's voice.
Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. "Hyacinth," he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, "would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?"
Her eyes widened, the misted, and her lips, which he'd been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. "I ... I ... "
It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.
"I ... I ... "
"Yes!" his grandmother finally yelled. "Yes! She'll marry you!"
"She can speak for herself," he said.
"No," Lady D said, "she can't. Quite obviously. — Julia Quinn

There is nothing more effective in igniting a man's desire than a woman's passion. To see the fire in your eyes, to feel the fire in your blood as you touch me, it sets me on fire too. Do you imagine I would prefer to kiss a woman who responds only with -- with compliance? No, I would not. No red-blooded man would. Never apologize for passion. Restraint, Julia, has no place in lovemaking. — Marguerite Kaye

It is not the taste considered in itself, that we hold to our lips, and you can no more understand the virtues of a wine through a blind tasting than you could understand the virtues of a woman through a blindfold kiss. — Roger Scruton

That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened the next tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss ... — Robert Browning

You know how much Annie loved pearls. She owned some incomparable specimens ... the most marvelous, I believe, that ever existed. You also remember the almost physical joy, the carnal ecstasy, with which she adorned herself with them. Well, when she was sick that passion became a mania with her ... a fury, like love! All day long she loved to touch them, caress them and kiss them; she made cushions of them, necklaces, capes, cloaks. Then this extraordinary thing happened; the pearls died on her skin: first they tarnished, little by little ... little by little they grew dim, and no light was reflected in their luster any more and, in a few days, tainted by the disease, they changed into tiny balls of ash. They were dead, dead like people, my darling. Did you know that pearls had souls? I think it's fascinating and delicious. And since then, I think of it every day. — Octave Mirbeau

I spoke the hardest words and almost broke:
'There is another kinsman still
More close to you than I. He will
Be given legal right to take
You if he will. Tomorrow make
Your prayer, and I will settle this
With elder in the gate.' No kiss
That night. But when she left, still dark,
She took my hand and drew and arc
And said, 'The God of Exodus
And flood at dawn will fight for us.'
That was our only touch. — John Piper

The stranger says there are no more couches and he will have to
sleep in your bed. You try to warn him, you tell him
you will want to get inside him, and ruin him,
but he doesn't listen.
You do this, you do. You take the things you love
and tear them apart
or you pin them down with your body and pretend they're yours.
So, you kiss him, and he doesn't move, he doesn't
pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn't moved,
he's frozen, and you've kissed him, and he'll never
forgive you, and maybe now he'll leave you alone. — Richard Siken

She slipped and fell against me. She brought her lips to mine. We kissed for what seemed like hours and she held me tight, knowing what to do and what to avoid. No more than a kiss, but tender, unforgettable. We lay down, holding hands. She smiled, stroking my hair".

From 'Young Love' (Banfield Tales) — Michael Braccia

If I could fall in love with a girl, it'd be her. Those ifs are dangerous. You try them on in your head like dresses, so easy to slide in and out of. If I kissed girls, I'd kiss her. If we kissed, it'd go like this. At some point I dropped the if like a slip and just wore the feeling, nothing between it and my skin. When I kiss her. When it happens. All of it took place in my head, in silence, locked tight in skull bone and the frantic synaptic whispers between neurons, no clues popping out except the passive-aggressive haircut, the incriminating poem.
That's the problem with writers. Too much imagination.
The greater part of me knew it couldn't be real, but the hopeful part, which is more concentrated and condensed, rich in nine essential delusions, thought: It's not all in your head. — Leah Raeder

She'd always assumed that falling in love would be like getting slammed into a brick wall. That you'd just be going along as usual and you'd get knocked on your ass and think, Gee, I guess I'm in love. But it hadn't happened that way. It had just kind of snuck up on her before she'd realized it. It had happened one smile and one touch at a time. One look. One kiss. One pink cat collar. One pinch to the heart and one breathless anticipation after another until she was in so deep there was no denying it. No turning back before it was too late. No more lying about what she felt. — Rachel Gibson

What said those two souls communicating through the language of the eyes, more perfect than that of the lips, the language given to the soul in order that sound may not mar the ecstasy of feeling? In such moments, when the thoughts of two happy beings penetrate into each other's souls through the eyes, the spoken word is halting, rude, and weak - it is as the harsh, slow roar of the thunder compared with the rapidity of the dazzling lightning flash, expressing feelings already recognized, ideas already understood, and if words are made use of it is only because the heart's desire, dominating all the being and flooding it with happiness, wills that the whole human organism with all its physical and psychical powers give expression to the song of joy that rolls through the soul. To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer. — Jose Rizal

How old are you?'
The question startled him. 'Earth and Air. There are times you are no more comfortable a companion than I am. The answer to that serves no conceivable purpose, and I refuse to give it to you.'
When I was a kid I read Black Beauty. There were horse-drawn cabs in that. Are you that old?'
Older, older, older. I shall not tell you, so you may as well leave off, my primrose.'
She snorted. 'I think that means I should give up. You've started sweet-talking.'
I am torn,' the phouka said, grinning, 'between responding, 'Oh, absolutely!' and 'What do you mean, started?' He grabbed her hand, dropped a kiss on the knuckles, and loped across the street. Eddi felt the touch of his mouth on her hand for an inexplicably long time. — Emma Bull

There are as many kinds of kisses as there are people on earth, as there are permutations and combinations of those people. No two people kiss alike - no two people fuck alike - but somehow the kiss is more personal, more individualized than the fuck. — Diane Di Prima

Matthew: Shall I remind you of some of the choicest remarks you made about me when I arrived here? Because they live in my memory as fresh as the day they were spoken. Mary: Oh, Matthew. What am I always telling you? You must pay no attention to the things I say. When they kiss, it is a long kiss, all the more passionate for being delayed far longer than it should have been. — Jessica Fellowes

Please do not look only at the dark side
All the newspapers in the free world explain why you return their readers understand how you feel
You have the sympathy of millions
As a tribute to your sorrow we resolve to spend more money on nuclear weapons there is always a bright side
If this were only a movie a boat would be available have you ever seen our movies they end happily
You would lean at the rail with 'him' the sun would set on China kiss and fade
You would marry one of the kind authorities
In our movies there is no law higher than love in real life duty is higher
You would not want the authorities to neglect duty
How do you like the image of the free world sorry you cannot stay
This is the first and last time we will see you in our papers
When you are back home remember us we will be having a good time. — Thomas Merton

A noble maiden must convey dignity and chastity without appearing to think about either one. Let common-born girls tussle in the hay with their loutish swains. The future of your family's bloodline and your future lord's bloodline should be your greatest concern. Let no man but one of your family embrace you. Let no man but your betrothed kiss any more than your fingertips; let your betrothed kiss you only on fingers, cheek, or forehead, lest he think you unchaste. And never allow yourself to be alone with a man, to safeguard the precious jewel of you reputation. No well-born maiden ever suffered from keeping her suitors at arm's length. Your chastity will make you a prize to you future husband's house and an honor to your own."
- form Advice to a Young Noblewoman, by Lady Fronia of Whitehall (in Maren) given to Ally on her twelfth birthday by her godmother, Queen Thayet — Tamora Pierce

Sky, I'm not kissing you tonight but believe me when I tell you, I've never wanted to kiss a girl more. So stop thinking I'm not attracted to you because you have no idea just how much I am. You can hold my hand, you can run your fingers through my hair, you can straddle me while I feed you spaghetti, but you are not getting kissed tonight. And probably not tomorrow, either. I need this. I need to know for sure that you're feeling every single thing that I'm feeling the moment my lips touch yours. Because I want your first kiss to be the best first kiss in the history of first kisses." He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses it. "Now stop sulking and help me finish the meatballs. — Colleen Hoover

I love kissing. If I could kiss all day, I would. I can't stop thinking about kissing. I like kissing more than sex because there's no end to it. You can kiss forever. You can kiss yourself into oblivion. You can kiss all over the body. You can kiss yourself to sleep. And when you wake up, you can't stop thinking about kissing. Dammit, I can't get anything done because I'm so busy thinking about kissing. Kissing is madness! But it's absolute paradise, if you can find a good kisser. — Sufjan Stevens

I just wanted to be with her. To show her who I truly was - not the jaded asshole she probably remembered. I wanted to find out who she had become and, even more than that, who she wanted to be. And then I wanted to be the one to give her that.
I draped an arm across her hips then pulled, forcing her to roll over on top of me. Her laughter abruptly stopped when I grazed a soft kiss over her lips. "No more running. Give me time to fix this. — Aly Martinez

The majority enjoy a young girl as they enjoy a glass of champagne, at one effervescent moment-oh, yes, that is really beautiful, and with many a young girl that is undoubtedly the most one can attain, but here there is more. If an individual is too fragile to stand clarity and transparency, well, then one enjoys what is unclear, but apparently she can stand it. The more devotedness one can bring to erotic love, the more interesting. This momentary enjoyment is a rape, even if not outwardly but nevertheless mentally, and in a rape there is only imagined enjoyment; it is like a stolen kiss, something nondescript. No, if one can bring it to a point where a girl has but one task for her freedom, to give herself, so that she feels her whole happiness in this, so that she practically begs for this devotedness and yet is free-only then is there enjoyment, but this always takes a discerning touch — Soren Kierkegaard

This goes against everything that I am, Sarai," he says and then kisses me. "No, it doesn't," I whisper and kiss him back. "It's you becoming more of who you really are. — J.A. Redmerski

Because she did not look behind, September did not see the smoky-glass casket close itself primly up again. She did not see it bend in half until it cracked, and Death hop up again, quite well, quite awake, and quite small once more. She certainly did not see Death stand on her tiptoes and blow a kiss after her, a kiss that rushed through all the frosted leaves of the autumnal forest, but could not quite catch a child running as fast as she could. As all mothers know, children travel faster than kisses. The speed of kisses is, in fact, what Doctor Fallow would call a cosmic constant. The speed of children has no limits. — Catherynne M Valente

Close your eyes," Marcus said, his hand moving to her bottom in a circling caress. He brushed his mouth over her forehead and her fragile eyelids. "Rest. You'll need to regain your strength ... because once we're married, I won't be able to leave you alone. I'll want to love you every hour, every minute of the day." He nestled her more closely against him. "There is nothing on earth more beautiful to me than your smile ... no sound sweeter than your laughter ... no pleasure greater than holding you in my arms. I realized today that I could never live without you, stubborn little hellion that you are. In this life and the next, you're my only hope of happiness. Tell me, Lillian, dearest love ... how can you have reached so far inside my heart?" He paused to kiss her damp silken skin ... and smiled as the wisp of a feminine snore broke the peaceful silence. — Lisa Kleypas

Once more into the breach," he said, turning up his collar. "Wish me luck." For an odd second, she thought he might lean down and kiss her cheek. "Good luck," she said. Over her shoulder, she watched him walk away. A slight limp, a favoring, perhaps, of his left leg. A flaw that would, she knew, diminish him in some women's eyes. Even if he'd been wounded in the war, there would be, she knew, for some women, the diminished appeal of a man who had suffered something over which he'd had no control. Who had suffered disappointment. — Alice McDermott