Quotes & Sayings About Pretty Lips

He had given work to a nightwalker named Dorothy Evans and gradually became beguiled by her. She was a plump, pretty, cattleman's daughter, pale as a cameo, with the sort of overripe body that always seems four months pregnant. Her long brown hair was braided into figure eights and pinned up over her ears in the English country-girl style. Grim experience was in her eyes, many years of pouting shaped her lips, but everything else about her expression seemed to evince an appealing cupidity, as if she could accept anything as long as it was pleasing. — Ron Hansen

I'd wondered about it before, even felt a few pretty strong impulses, but this was the first time I really thought about kissing her, right this instant, like I could already taste her lips, breathe in her skin at the side of her neck, feel the curves of her body against mine as I eased her back onto the sand, my fingers tangling in her soft blond hair, sliding under her clothes ... — Ophelia London

"You laid it on a little thick out there."
Morpheus clucks his tongue. "I performed masterfully," he answers, at last managing to claim his hat from Chessie.
"Right," Jeb scoffs. "Pretty sure my mistreatment wouldn't have sent you into hysterics, drama queen."
Morpheus smirks. "Fair enough. On the other hand, your portrayal of a brainless wind-up numbskull was spot on."
Jeb's lips quiver, as if he's fighting a smile himself. "You know, I still have enough paint to make that flyswatter."
"Tut. No need for violence." Morpheus taps the dust from his hat and places it on his head. "I'm simply giving credit where it's due." — A.G. Howard

He urged his horse forward, his body straining, ready to be on his way. But at the last second he looked back at her and swerved, drawing the beast up beside her. From underneath the brim of his hat, he peered down at her. The intensity in the blue depths dragged her in until she felt as if she were drowning. "You've done good so far, Priscilla." At the unexpected words of praise, she sucked in a breath. His gaze dropped to her lips, lingered there for an instant before returning to her eyes, darker, bluer. Her lungs stopped working, and she clutched a hand to her chest. "I'll see your pretty face in a couple days." She nodded, too breathless to respond. He kicked his heels into his horse and left her standing, watching after him, wondering if he was taking her heart with him. — Jody Hedlund

I don't know if I can."

I splayed my hand on the bulkhead beside Fran's shoulder and looked her in those pretty green eyes. "It's easier if you don't think about it. Shut it away, think about something else. Drink, fuck, do what you gotta do. Bury it so damn deep, it can't touch you. And before long, you'll forget what you were worried about."

Her lips turned down at the corners. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Is that what you do?"

"It works." Or it had. Until recently. Until One somehow made me look at myself though her eyes. Now I had shit going on in my head, like not wanting to let her down. Not wanting to let any of them down. Like this life and my place in it might actually mean something. That kinda thinking would get a man killed.

~ Caleb — Pippa DaCosta

It's meant to be pretty," whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes.
Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any color."
The tiniest of smiles forms on Octavia's lips. "Thank you. — Suzanne Collins

Even though i'd admittedly accepted every advance he made on me, picking up my hand and putting it on his thigh seemed mighty forward of him. I didn't take the radical step of removing my hand,but I did open my mouth to act all indignant.
He put two fingers to my lips to stop me from talking.He knew me pretty well. His mouth close to my ear,he growled, "You know,you and I are exes."
"So?" I asked around his fingers.My skin tingled with excitement,or possibly eucalyptus poisoning. — Jennifer Echols

Hello, Anne's clitoris. It's me, Malcolm, your lord and master."
"Oh, god, no." I covered my face with my hands. "Please don't."
"Shh. This is a private conversation." He brushed hot, feverish kisses up and down the lips of my sex. My stomach tensed so hard it hurt. "Look at you all pretty, pink, and excited. Don't worry, I'll look after you. — Kylie Scott

- We don't even like each other.
- I pretty much can't stand you.
And then his lips crushed to mine. — Jenny B. Jones

I'm glad...you texted."
Rider tilted his head to the side. "Yeah?"
I nodded, probably a little too eagerly, but as the dimple in his right cheek took shape, it was like being rewarded. Our eyes met for a moment, and I didn't want him to leave. An urge took me like it had during lunch, and I all but bounced forward. Gripping his arms, I stretched up and kissed his cheek. It was pretty much just a peck, so I figured it wasn't crossing any lines, but the feel of his skin under my lips was still unnerving and unexpected.
"Be careful," I whispered, backing off.
Rider's grin faded from his handsome face. A moment passed before he spoke. "Always, Mouse. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

What if once you get to know me, you don't like what you see?"

He took my hand and lifted it to his battered lips. "I already know you're the only woman in the world I'd allow myself to get my ass kicked for. I'm pretty sure it can only get better from here."

I almost smiled. "Ah, so you're an optimist."

"Not until I met you. — Lisa Kessler

My vagina claps her pretty lips, and my magic marble lights up like we've won the million-dollar prize. — Helena Hunting

His warm breath hit my neck, and my toes curled. "That may be true," he murmured, "but I'm pretty sure there's a wolf inside you, too. Here, let me help you find it."
I turned, falling into his arms, his lips meeting mine, both of us hungry.
At least one thing would go right today. — Amanda Carlson

You felt it." "I did." I nodded. "All of it."
"And you feel the same."
"I do." I smiled, my eyes brimming with tears. "I wish you could sense it the way I do so I could give you more than just words."
He shrugged. The corner of his lips curved into a crooked smile, I'd never seen on him before. "The words were pretty fucking awesome. — Lisa Kessler

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me. — Maya Angelou

A sense of humor ... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life. — Hugh Sidey

I like bustling around Paul's kitchen. And I like it even more when he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me while I'm standing at the stove. He pretends like he's going to try to steal a piece of chicken from the pasta, but he presses his lips to my shoulder and lingers, his hot breath blowing across my neck. I reach up and wrap my hand around his neck and bring him down so I can kiss him. Then he pops the chicken into his mouth and grins. "That's pretty good," he says, nodding. I roll my eyes. "Glad you like my chicken." "Oh, I wasn't talking about the chicken," he says, letting his eyes roam up and down my body. — Tammy Falkner

I'm not trying to be self-deprecating," I say, "I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty. I - "
He laughs, a deep laugh that sounds like it came from deep inside him, and touches his lips to my temple.
"Don't pretend," I say breathily. "You know I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty."
"Fine. You're not pretty. So?" He kisses my cheek. — Veronica Roth

You've given some pretty convincing arguments, but you're still a long way from winning me over."
"I haven't even really tried," he said, in a rare moment of arrogance. "When I want to, I can be very persuasive."
"Yeah? Prove it."
His lips moved toward mine. "I was hoping you'd say that. — Richelle Mead

Four sweet lips, two pure souls, and one undying affection, these are love's pretty ingredients for a kiss. — Christian Nestell Bovee

I know a flower that grows in the valley, none knows it but I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and its juice is as white as milk. Should'st thou touch with this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she would follow thee all over the world. Out of the bed of the King she would rise, and over the whole world she would follow thee. And it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? I can pound a toad in a mortar, and make broth of it, and stir the broth with a dead man's hand. Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps, and he will turn into a black viper, and his own mother will slay him. With a wheel I can draw the Moon from heaven, and in a crystal I can show thee Death. What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? Tell me thy desire, and I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a price, pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price. — Oscar Wilde

I think I could have some very real feelings for you," I blurt out. I want to bite the words back as soon as I say them. "Good," she says, and she smiles as she rolls into my chest and wraps her arm around me. She buries her face in my shirt. I think she might be embarrassed. "I pour my heart out and all you can say is good?" I jostle her in my arms. "Mmm hmm," she hums. I feel her lips against my shirt, her breath warming the fabric. She laughs. "You can't really call that pouring your heart out, Pete." She mocks my tone, making her voice deep. "I think I might have some very real feelings for you." She laughs, and damn it all, it's such a pretty sound that she can't annoy me with it. — Tammy Falkner

I'm pretty sure his kisses are the best form of dieting there is, because every time his lips touch mine, I forget all about the fact that I'm starving. — Colleen Hoover

Illium, his expression subdued as it had been for too many days, turned to her. "Mind if I have a go?"
"Kick his ass."
Stripping off his shirt and boots, Illium held out his hand for one of Venom's blades. Lips curving, Venom passed it over. "Sure you can handle me, pretty, pretty Bluebell?"
"Did I ever tell you about my snakeskin boots?" A savage grin, and she knew Venom was about to bear the brunt of whatever haunted the blue-winged angel.
Venom swirled his blade in hand. "I do think I need some new feathers for my pillow. — Nalini Singh

You do understand that I must find a way to return to Olympus," I said. "This will probably involve many harrowing trials with a high chance of death. Can you turn down such glory?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can. Sorry."
I pursed my lips. It always disappointed me when mortals put themselves first and failed to see the big picture - the importance of putting me first - but I had to remind myself that this young man had helped me out on many previous occasions — Rick Riordan

Her hair, the brightest shade of red he had ever seen, seemed to feed on the firelight, glowing with incandescent heat. The slender wings of her brows and the heavy fringe of her lashes were a darker shade of auburn, while her skin was that of a true redhead, fair and a bit freckled on the nose and cheeks. Sebastian was amused by the festive scattering of little gold flecks, sprinkled as if by the whim of a friendly fairy. She had unfashionably full lips that were colored a natural rose, and large, round blue eyes... pretty but emotionless eyes, like those of a wax doll. — Lisa Kleypas

My legs are nice, my lips are shapely, and my breasts are pretty. They popped up when I was 11 and they weren't small then. I was teased, but now those kids wish they had what I have! — Queen Latifah

I know I need to put my mouth on those pretty lips and kiss you," he said with so much conviction, it felt like a swarm of butterflies had been let loose in my stomach. "Do you know that, too? — Christina Lee

Each time Nate saw her, Elisa's beauty struck him anew, as if in the interval the memory of what she actually looked like had been distorted by the tortured emotions she elicited since they'd broken up: in his mind, she took on the dimensions of an abject creature. What a shock when she opened the door, bursting with vibrant, almost aggressive good health. The power of her beauty, Nate had once decided, came from its ability to constantly reconfigure itself. When he thought he'd accounted for it, filed it away as a dead fact - pretty girl - she turned her head or bit her lip, and like a children's toy you shake to reset, her prettiness changed shape, its coordinates altered: now it flashed from the elegant contours of her sloping brow and flaring cheekbone, now from her shyly smiling lips. — Adelle Waldman

He pushed my back against the stall door, kissing me. Edward had tried kissing me, but I'd been so shocked I'd barely had time to explore how it felt. Lucy had told me stories of shady corners and sweaty palms. But this was passionate. Wild. Something I'd never known.
"Have you kissed a girl before?" I whispered. He ran his thumb over my cheek. His eyes lingered on my lips.
"Yes," he said. I thought of Alice, her pretty blonde hair, the split lip that made her so vulnerable. But it wasn't her name he said.
"A woman at the docks in Brisbane. She didn't mean anything. I was lonely. It wasn't love." A prostitute, he meant. — Megan Shepherd

I have a nice smile, pretty lips, and big round cheeks. They help me look like a teenager. — Gabourey Sidibe

Halfway through the day, the phone rang, and I saw Jack's number on the caller ID.
I reached for the phone, snatched my hand back, then reached again cautiously. "Hello?"
"Ella, how's it going?" Jack sounded relaxed and professional. An office voice.
"Pretty good," I said warily. "You?"
"Great. Listen, I made a couple of calls to Eternal Truth this morning, and I want to bring you up to date. Why don't you meet me for lunch at the restaurant?"
"The one on the seventh floor?"
"Yeah, you can bring Luke. Meet me there in twenty minutes."
"Can't you just tell me now?"
"No, I need someone to eat with."
A slight smile rose to my lips. "Am I supposed to believe that I'm your only option?"
"No. But you're my favorite option."
I was glad he couldn't see the color that swept over my face. "I'll be there."
-Ella & Jack — Lisa Kleypas

I lick my lips as I take her in; she's an enigma. Earlier as I watched her I was sure I had her pegged; pretty, rich, party girl, slightly shy but up for some fun. With my profile of her character in mind I had felt in control. Now that she's surprised me my grasp on control feels looser. I don't know what to expect from her and it leaves me feeling off kilter. — Hanleigh Bradley

When are you going to get a fella?" Lily asks Rose after a year or two of dancing. "I have one who wants to take me kissing, but I think I should wait for you to have one."
Rose flushes. "I don't think I'll ever have a fella."
"Why not?" Lily bristles. "We're plenty pretty."
"I don't like the look of them," Rose says.
Lily purses her lips at the dance floor, appraising.
After a moment long, Rose says, "Any of them."
Lily looks at her a long time, as Rose tries not to hyperventilate.
Then Lily shrugs and says, "Well, then it's you who should have learned to lead, isn't it?" and when Rose clasps Lily's hand, she clasps it back.
It's the closest they've ever been. — Genevieve Valentine

There was this one model in French Elle. I can't imagine what it must be like to be her. She was brunette with big lips and was wearing this tight navy dress by Azzedine someone. She was so beautiful; and the choices she must have. and ... Oh, I would give it all up just to have been born that way because her life will be so easy. She won't have to think, and men will fall into her lap and ... It's all unfair and I don't want to even write it.
It will never change, and no one wants to admit it but being thin and pretty is the best thing a woman can be. — Rae Earl

Sooo, I'm tired of people thinking I'm a freak. I know you can't relate to that but -"
"Get over it already, will ya?" Candace stood. "You're not Smellody anymore. You're pretty. You can get hot guys now. Tanned ones with good vision. Not geeky hose jousters." She shut the window. "Don't you ever want to use your lips as something other than veneer protectors?"
Melody felt a familiar pinch behind her eyes. Her throat dried. Her eyes burned. And then they came. Like salty little paratroopers, tears descended en masse. She hated Candace thought she had never made out with a boy. But how could she convince a seventeen-year-old with more dates than a fruitcake that Randy the Starbucks cashier (aka Scarbucks, because of his acne scars) was a great kisser? She couldn't. — Lisi Harrison

Pretty girls kissed me on victory day, their lips soft red petals brushing my face. — Steven Herrick

I want you to give in to what I see behind your eyes every time I'm near you. I want you to give in to the way you trembled in my arms when I touched you ... the way your breathing becomes faster when I look at you. I loved the way your lips felt against mine, and I'm pretty sure you did, too. I also enjoy the way I can almost feel you becoming wet for me right now. Are you going to pretend that you don't feel anything for me, Emily? — Gail McHugh

Right then, Mel came into the bar, hung her jacket on the peg inside the door and jumped up on a stool in front of her husband, elbows on the bar, leaning toward him for a kiss. "Holy shit," one of the men said. "Look at that one. Talk about a doe I'd like to bag." Jack straightened before meeting his wife's lips. The look on his face wasn't a pretty one. "You know," Mike said, laughing uncomfortably, "about our women. You boys don't want to be giving the women around here any trouble. Trust me on this, okay?" That set up a round of hilarious laughter at the table of hunters and one of them said, unfortunately too loudly, "Maybe the girl wants to get bagged. I think we should at least ask her!" But oops - glancing over his shoulder, Mike saw Jack had heard that. And probably so had Mel. And after what those two had been through earlier in the summer, comments like that were not taken lightly. And — Robyn Carr

Well, that's good to know. 'Cause man, do I ever like looking at you."
"You do?"
"Oh yeah. I like these," he said, and then he stroked over her eyebrows with his thumbs. Not her breasts or her c*nt or her lips, but those big black hairy things that were pretty much the bane of her existence. And he didn't stop there. He touched the bump on the bridge of her nose and the mole just beneath her ear, murmuring all the while about how sweet he found them, how delicious. — Charlotte Stein

At the high school a pretty girl strolled across the parking lot to her black stallion, let her cigarette dangle from her lips while she put on her helmet, adjusted her goggles. Throwing a slender white leg over the side she jacked her little backside up and down a few times, exciting the steed. Now she came down on his back and he squatted, moaning to the soft squeeze of her hand, then at her sudden clutch shot out fast between the press of her knees. Claude looked down at his shoes as they passed, having seen nothing. But he glanced up in time to watch them glide off under the next streetlamp, the gleaming beast appearing almost languid with release, very pleased with himself and with the girl who clung to his back, small and stiff and unsatisfied.
She had been noticed: everywhere along the way the leaning people looked after her as though wondering if the new week had finally begun, then they looked at one another, then back at nothing. — Douglas Woolf

All of them are men, not a girl amongst them unless you count Tommy Falk because his lips are so pretty. — Maggie Stiefvater

I seem to wish to have some importance
In the play of time. If not,
Then sad was my mother's pain, my breath, my bones,
My web of nerves, my wondering brain,
to be shaped and quickened with such anticipation
Only to feed the swamp of space.
What is deep, as love is deep, I'll have
Deeply. What is good, as love is good,
I'll have well. Then if time and space
Have any purpose, I shall belong to it.
If not, if all is a pretty fiction
To distract the cherubim and seraphim
Who so continually do cry, the least
I can do is to fill the curled shell of the world
With human deep-sea sound, and hold it to
The ear of God, until he has appetite
To taste our salt sorrow on his lips.
And so you see it might be better to die.
Though, on the other hand, I admit it might
Be immensely foolish. — Christopher Fry

Furi. You taste so good," Syn said between licks. He'd reduced Furi to quiet whimpers and shameless motions as he pushed harder against Syn's face. Syn finally rose up and stretched across Furi's back and moved all his pretty hair to one side so he could see his face. "I'm going to make love to you, the way you deserve to be made love to. That's why I wanted to wait. Until you knew for sure that you were special to me and not just a fuck." Syn kissed the side of Furi's face and licked at his lips. "Thank you," Furi whispered. Syn wasn't expecting that response, but it pleased him none-the-less. — A.E. Via

Her six-year-old brain had lost her father at sweet and was still stuck trying to decipher lemonade.
"But lemon is pretty, Dad. It's yellow. Like sun."
Her father nodded, his lips curved up at the corners.
"Sun is pretty and it has a smiley face. Sun is not bad."
"No, I guess it's not." Her father chuckled.
"I love sun."
"Of course you do, sweetie-pie."
"So lemon is nice, too."
"I believe so, but some people don't like the taste. It's too sour, they say."
She looked back at her father and said with a tone that suggested what other people thought about lemon was crazy. "Then add sugar. No need to blame the lemon. — E. Mellyberry

I sighed. "Actually, Mom, we argue pretty regularly."
"What?" She gaped at me. "Well, stop it!"
"Oh, and I kneed him in the groin once."
There was a split second of silence before May barked a laugh. She covered her mouth and tried to stop it, but it kept coming out in awkward, squeaky sounds. Dad's lips were pressed together, but I could tell he was on the verge of losing it himself.
Mom was paler then snow.
"America, tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't assault the prince."
I don't know why, but the word assault pushed us all on the edge; and May, Dad, and I bent over laughing as Mom stared at us.
"Sorry, Mom," I managed.
"Oh, good lord." She suddenly seemed very excited in meeting Marlee's parents, and I didn't stop her from going. — Kiera Cass

When I was but a young pup...there was a woman I met, under the stars, who let me play with her bubbies, and she told me my fortune. She told me that I would be undone and abandoned west of the sunset, and that a dead woman's bauble would seal my fate. And I laughed and poured more barley wine and played with her bubbies some more, and I kissed her full on her pretty lips. — Neil Gaiman

Instead of shaking it, Armand slowly brought her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her knuckles. Gwen's breath hitched and her eyes widened. Jacque wanted to smash his fist into his cousin's pearly whites. The bastard was purposely taunting both him and Louis by turning on the charm. Women loved Armand. Young and old, pretty or plain, it didn't matter. He — N.J. Walters

Red", I write "is the color of life. It's blood, passion, rage. It's menstrual flow and after birth. Beginnings and violent end. Red is the color of love. Beating hearts and hungry lips. Roses, Valentines, cherries. Red is the color of shame. Crimson cheeks and spilled blood. Broken hearts, opened veins. A burning desire to return to white. — Mary Hogan

Standing near the wall, surrounded by what looked like a group of total fratty jockish dudes, was a man. A very fine man. He looked a few years younger than me, with brown hair that fell all over his head in an artfully messy way that looked like he might have just rolled out of bed, but you knew was done on purpose. He had thick, pretty lips that were made for sin, stretching into a delicious smile that showed even teeth. Dimples. Fuck me up, we have dimples! Deep, deep dimples that I wanted to put my tongue into. I blushed a fire red, but I didn't stop my depraved up and down assessment. — T.J. Klune

Levana had not seen the bodies, but she had seen the bedrooms the next morning, and her first thought was that all that blood would make for a very pretty rouge on her lips. — Marissa Meyer

Colourful lips are pretty, child but they also speak colourful lies. — J. Limbu

I have a confession," he said softly.
"Oh no," I sighed. "It's not about the gloves is it?"
"No," he grinned, and gave me a quick peck on the lips. "I've seriously been crushing on you for about three years."
"Really?" I was genuinely surprised. His asking me out a few times never equated to a crush to me. I knew he probably liked me a little, but I didn't think he had a crush on me.
"Okay, maybe more than crushing. I'm pretty sure I've had some pretty strong feelings for you for a long time. — L.D. Davis

Good night, Aphrodite," he said softly, liking the feel of the word on his lips, like some sort of incantation. Her green eyes widened behind her spectacles at hearing him speak her actual name. But she didn't correct him. And if he wasn't mistaken, there was a blush rising in her cheek. Perhaps there was more of the pretty scholar's namesake in her than she'd previously let on. — Manda Collins

My lips are zipped. He is pretty. All that blond hair and those eyes. I'd do him."
"Line is closed. Go back to your own ride. — Mercy Celeste

Why should I not love her? Harry, I do love her. She is everything to me in life. Night after night I go to see her play. One evening she is Rosalind, and the next evening she is Imogen. I have seen her die in the gloom of an Italian Tomb, sucking the poison from her lover's lips. I have watched her wandering through the forest of Arden, disguised as a pretty boy in hose and doublet and dainty cap. She has been mad, and has come into the presence of a guilty king, and given him rue to wear, and bitter herbs to taste of. She has been innocent, and the black hands of jealousy have crushed her reed-like throat. I have seen her in every age and in every costume. Ordinary women never appeal to one's imagination. They are limited to their century. No glamour ever transfigures them. One knows their minds as easily as one knows their bonnets. One can always find them. There is no mystery in one of them. — Oscar Wilde

I love you, pretty girl." "I love you, Drake Pierce," she replied. Drake lifted her chin with his finger and planted the sweetest, most gentle kiss on her lips. "What?" he asked, reading the look on her face when she pulled away from him. She broadened her smile and stared up at him like she was etching his face into her memory. Drake Pierce was her life. In all the time she'd had to come up with one word that embodied what he was to her, it had finally come to her. He was simply life. "I'm — Jai Bree'nae

He smiled. "You're into me, I can tell."
"I'm not into you," I said hotly. Hotly, because as soon as the words left my lips, sparklers erupted on top of my head.
Hudson looked at them, and a grin spread across his face. The baby cooed and reached out, trying to grab the flaring light. Hudson moved farther away. "Don't touch. Just look at Mommy's pretty liar hat."
He was enjoying this way too much. "Okay," I said. "Maybe I like you a little."
The sparklers dimmed, but didn't go out.
Hudson raised an eyebrow.
"All right," I said, nervously eyeing the area to make sure no one saw us. "I'm into you."
The sparklers died, but I didn't wait around for more commentary. I headed to the inn. Behind me I heard Hudson still talking to the baby. "Yes, we like Mommy's flaming hairdo, don't we? — Janette Rallison

Sometimes I can't tell the difference between living and dead. Sometimes I look at a pretty little girlie and I think to myself, Is she a living, breathing thing? Or is she just a doll? Are those actualy tears she's crying? Are those real creams coming out of her mouth? And it's like a fog in my mind, like I get all confused and frustrated and mixed up, so I start doing things. Start small at first, like maybe with the ears or the lips or the toes. And then move on to the bigger things, and there's blood, so I keeping going and my hands are wet and my mouth is warm and I keep going and then something magical happens, Jasper. It's real magical and special and beautiful. See, they stop moving. They stop struggiling. All the fight just goes away and that's when it's all clear to me: She's dead. And if she's dead, then that means that she used to be alive. So then I know: This was a living one, a real one. And I feel good after that 'cause I figured it out. — Barry Lyga

Erah Graesin had a silky, low voice. It was reputed to be sexy, but then, everything about Terah Graesin was supposed to be sexy. Kylar didn't see it. Oh, she was pretty. She had a wide mouth, full lips, and the kind of figure that was unattainable for the majority of noblewomen who spent their days doing nothing more strenuous than issuing orders to the servants. Maybe it was that she was a little too self-consciously good-looking. She wore lots of makeup - expertly applied and subtle, but lots - and had tweezed her eyebrows down to tiny lines. The truth was, she held herself like he ought to admire her, and it pissed him off. What pissed him off more was that to look her in the eye with his disguise, he had to stare straight at her admittedly perky breasts. Dammit, why were breasts so intriguing? — Brent Weeks

Sissie could see it all. In her uncertain eyes, on her restless hands and on her lips, which she kept biting all the time.
But oh, her skin. It seemed as if according to the motion of her emotions Marija's skin kept switching on and switching off like a two-colour neon sign. So that watching her against the light of the dying summer sun, Sissie could not help thinking that it must be a pretty dangerous matter, being white. It made you feel awfully exposed, rendered you terribly vulnerable. Like being born without your skin or something. As though the Maker had fashioned the body of a human, stuffed it into a polythene bag instead of the regular protective covering, and turned it loose into the world.
Lord, she wondered, is that why, on the whole, they have had to be extra ferocious? Is it so they could feel safe here on the earth, under the sun, the moon and the stars? — Ama Ata Aidoo

There it is, darlin',"He said softly, his lips curling slowly in a sexy grin. "Nothin'like seein' a pretty girl gettin' all fired up. — Madeline Sheehan

She is everything to me in life. Night after night I go to see her play. One evening she is Rosalind, and the next evening she is Imogen. I have seen her the in the gloom of an Italian tomb, sucking the poison from her lover's lips. I have watched her wandering through the forest of Arden, disguised as a pretty boy in hose and doublet and dainty cap. She has been mad, and has come into the presence of a guilty king, and given him rue to wear, and bitter herbs to taste of. She has been innocent, and the black hands of jealousy have crushed her reed-like throat. I have seen her in every age and in every costume. Ordinary women never appeal to one's imagination. They are limited to their century. No glamour ever transfigures them. One knows their minds as easily as one knows their bonnets. One can always find them. There is no mystery in any of them: — Oscar Wilde

I rise up on my tiptoes. He's already bending his head down, moving his lips toward mine. And then, well, I haven't exactly studied this, but I'm pretty sure that ours is not the most expert kiss in Sualan history. It's a little hard to figure out how we should tilt our heads so our noses don't bump. But this kiss is a promise, a vow. Come to think of it, it doesn't really matter that ours is not the most expert kiss in Sualan history. It's still the best. — Margaret Peterson Haddix

I looked above the jeans. Vintage Fugazi concert tee. Green flannel shirt. 10. I looked above the flannel. Two weeks' worth of shaggy blond beard. Mmm. Country hipster. 11. I looked above the beard. Lips. 12. I looked at the lips. 13. I looked at the lips. 14. I looked at the lips. 15. COME ON. 16. I looked above the lips. 17. I was glad I looked above the lips. 18. The eyes and the hair were a package deal, the hair was falling across his eyes in a careless way that said "Hey, girl. I've got peas on my shoes, but who cares, because I've got these eyes and this hair, and it's pretty fucking great." 19. The hair was the color of tabbouleh. 20. His eyes were the color of . . . 21. Pickles? 22. Green beans? 23. No. Broccoli that had been steamed for exactly sixty seconds. Vibrant. Piercing. — Alice Clayton

She wore a tan robe and headscarf, the clothes of a local... but didn't feel like a market regular. She moved slowly and gazed at everything with a child's wonder. Her eyes were large and clear, her hair as black as midnight. She had a warm smile on her pretty lips and was obviously murmuring 'hellos' and 'excuse mes' to people who really didn't care or want to talk. She walked with the grace of a cloud in the wind, like her body weighed nothing at all, and held her head high with easy dignity. Easy.
Aladdin felt his heart contract. He had never seen her- or anyone like her- before.
When the girl adjusted her scarf, she revealed an intricate diadem in her hair that had a ridiculously sized emerald in it.
'Ah, a rich girl, out for a day of shopping in the market without her servants. Living dangerously, playing hooky. — Liz Braswell

If you look at old pictures, Irene Casey is so pretty. Not just young, but pretty the way you look when your face goes smooth, the skin around your eyes and lips relaxed, the pretty you only look when you love the person taking the picture. — Chuck Palahniuk

In the interest of ultimate honesty," Celine cut in, "I'm pretty sure that everyone present would appreciate it if you two got a room."
"I wouldn't," Dean grumbled.
"I am unbothered by displays of physical and emotional intimacy," Sloane volunteered. "The nuances and statistics underlying courtship behavior are quite fascinating."
The edges of Celine's lips quirked upward as she met Sloane's gaze. "You don't say."
Sloane frowned. "I just did. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Delilah cancelled the spell, snapped the mirror shut, and held it out to her. "A late birthday gift for you. Sorry I didn't wrap it, but I thought the trick would be fun."
Ceony's lips parted as she looked at the mirror. "Oh, Delilah, it's so pretty. You didn't have to - "
"Take it, take it," she laughed, shaking the compact at her.
Ceony took it with a smile and traced the Celtic ornament with her fingers as she slipped it into her purse. "Thank you."
"My birthday is in December," Delilah said matter-of-factly. "Don't forget. — Charlie N. Holmberg

Pretty was hardly the word. With her fierce curled lips, black eyes and clean angry bones she must have stood out in her graduating class like a chicken hawk in a flock of pullets. — Ross Macdonald

I kissed his forehead and then his temples. I kissed every place on his face all except his lips. I got close, but never full on the lips. I gave every place on his face my full attention. Maverick quietly said to me, "You missed a spot Charlie."
"I'm pretty sure I didn't," I replied.
"No Charlie, you did and I'm not waiting anymore for you to give it the attention that it so desperately deserves. — Heather Gunter

I wonder the food didn't turn to ashes in our mouths! Eggs! Muffins! Sardines! All wrung from the bleeding lips of the starving poor!"
"Oh, I say! What a beastly idea!" ...
Jeeves came in to clear away, and found me sitting among the ruins. It was all very well for Comrade Butt to knock the food, but he had pretty well finished the ham; and if you had shoved the remainder of the jam into the bleeding lips of the starving poor it would hardly have made them sticky. — P.G. Wodehouse

He reached out, ran his finger down the fine, ultra-smooth flesh of her cheek and knew he had never touched anything so soft.
I dare you. The memory of her pretty pink lips forming those words had his lips quirking.
He leaned close, feathered her hair from her ear and whispered, "Never dare me."
She jackknifed in the bed. Her eyes flew open, and a scream of pure terror erupted from her lips with such a suddenness that he couldn't counter it.
He cursed, jumped for the window, grabbed the rope he'd secured beside it, and in the time it took for her screams to die he was on the ground and running.
Damn. Guess he shouldn't have warned her, he thought with a smile. But he had. And he hoped, for her sake, she remembered it. — Lora Leigh

Echo pranced to the ta ble with a wicked grin on her lips. I craved nothing more than to kiss that pretty little smirk off her face. Instead, i yanked one of her silky red curls. Her laughter tickled my skin. — Katie McGarry

I'm going to imprison you in pleasure. Until you're crying. Until you're begging. Until your well kept secrets are on fire and dripping down your thighs. I'm going to crush your sexy resistance with my lips and tongue. And I'm going to be right at your scorching mouth, eating up the sounds of your mind blowing orgasm until you say it-- no, until you scream it. Lucian. Lucian Bane. That's what I want you to scream while I milk the ecstasy from your pretty little soul. — Lucian Bane

Although Genesis didn't deepen their kiss or steal his own taste, he did lick his own lips, taking the taste of Curtis off his lips and into his mouth. With their lips still barely touching, Genesis murmured, "You are a little bad boy, aren't you?" Genesis brought his hand up and brushed a lock of hair behind Curtis' ear. "A very pretty bad boy." Genesis gave him another soft kiss, and Curtis swore he was in heaven. "You said we're supposed to be good. You have to stop touching me like that." Curtis panted. "I don't know how," Genesis whispered almost painfully. Leaning back in and kissing Curtis again. "Well, like brother like brother, huh?" Day's sarcastic voice killed their moment as he sauntered into the room without knocking. "Better pull back, Casanova, 'my two dads' are right behind me." Genesis — A.E. Via

Furi gripped Syn's ass in a grip sure to leave finger-marks and slammed his hot mouth over his cock, taking him down to the base in one swallow. An animalistic lust coursed through him with an intensity he'd never felt. Syn was hit hard with hunger and he roughly grabbed two handfuls of Furi's hair and pumped his cock as far down his throat as it could go while he loudly groaned his release. Sweltering heat surrounded his cock as he shot jet after jet of hot, thick come inside that heavenly cavern. Syn had absolutely no poise or courtesy as he used the hell out of Furi's mouth, fucking his dick in between those pretty pink lips until he had no strength left. Furi — A.E. Via

Let me tell you a story," he says, leaning closer until his lips are an inch from my ear. "Once upon a time, there was a hot piece of tail who dressed like a boy. She wore flannel and baggy jeans and trucker hats. She kept all her pretty curves hidden, but no one was fooled especially not my dick. The end. — Bijou Hunter

Twenty-three," he said. "Mm?" She opened her dazed eyes. Thorne pulled back, looking guilty and worried, which made some of her euphoria fade away. "You once asked me how many times I'd told a girl I loved her. I've been trying to remember them all, and I'm pretty sure the answer is twenty-three." She blinked, a slow, fluttering stare. Her lips pursed in a question that took a while to form. "Including the Lunar girl who kissed you?" His brow furrowed. "Are we counting her?" "You said it, didn't you?" His gaze darted to the side. "Twenty-four." Cress gaped. Twenty-four girls. She didn't even know twenty-four people. — Marissa Meyer

Dirty's saying I'm going to make you come. Obscene's saying I'm going to spread your pretty pink pussy lips open and spank your clit until you come all over my face. — Kit Rocha

You could heal him?" I asked, glancing at Hal.

"Could," said the wysling, "but won't, until I get what's mine."

I pressed my lips together and took a deep breath. "You're heartless and selfish."

"I agree," he said, steepling his pale hands together and pointing them at the floor. "Any decent human being would offer to heal him anyway. However, since I'm neither decent nor a human being, I feel pretty all right about it. — Mirriam Neal

So you're now an official member of Enclave Three. You weirdo."
I snorted. "I'm a weirdo? You're a werewolf."
"I suggest you say that with respect, Parker."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll have to bite you." His lips widened into a grin of heart-stopping proportions. I guessed it
would have been pretty effective on him in werewolf form, too. — Chloe Neill

Then, winking at him, I passed my tongue over the top, and all around the ice cream at the rim of the cone, filling my whole mouth and, just to look sexy, also licking the tips of my fingers. Then I came around the counter, swaying my hips real pretty, and steadying myself over the wobbly high heels. I came right up to him, and before he could guess what kind of trouble I had cooked up in my head, I kissed him - so sweet and so long - on his lips, to the shouts and outcries of the offended customer ... — Uvi Poznansky

I got a question for you, gonna come over here and kiss me with those pretty lips? — Agatha Bird

Liz?"
"Hmmm?"
"Why do you care about me?"
The question seems to startle me. It's uncharacteristic for Richie, who is usually so cool and self-assured. I open my eyes. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because I don't understand. We're so different."
I reach around the side of his face. Once again, I wipe fresh beads of sweat from his forehead. This time, I don't even bother wiping my hands on my pants. I lace my fingers into his again, and the two of us lie together, his damp clamminess seeping onto my made up face and my pretty clothes. Obviously, I couldn't care less.
"But we fit," I whisper. "Like this." And I tighten my grip around him.
"Mmm." He smiles, his eyes still closed.
"You're right. We do."
"Richie ... I'm lying. I don't like you."
"You don't?" His voice cracks.
"No." I bring my lips close to his ear. "I love you Richie Wilson. — Jessica Warman

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

You're very pretty," he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, "for a jinni." "Have you met many jinn?" "No." His lips curl into a dazed grin. "But I've met a lot of pretty girls. — Jessica Khoury

Karou was, simply, lovely. Creamy and leggy, with long azure hair and the eyes of a silent-movie star, she moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx. Beyond merely pretty, her face was vibrantly alive, her gaze always sparking and luminous, and she had a birdlike way of cocking her head, her lips pressed together while her dark eyes danced, that hinted at secrets and mysteries. — Laini Taylor

I found it impossible with his mouth so close to me, his lips being so fantastic and my eyes dropped to them again.
They were fine.
I licked my lips.
"Ava."
My eyes drifted back to his and I was in a Luke Lip Fog. "Yeah?"
"You lick your lips while looking at my mouth one more time, you'll find that pretty pink tongue of yours in my mouth. — Kristen Ashley

Sit there and shut up, honey. One of us is a professional. Now, if I need helping making a f**king sandwich or getting red wine out of a linen tablecloth, I'll ask for your opinion. Otherwise, shut those powder-pink lips and look pretty. — S.L. Jennings

She used to place her pretty arms about my neck, draw me to her, and laying her cheek to mine, murmur with her lips near my ear, "Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die - die, sweetly die - into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit."
And when she had spoken such a rhapsody, she would press me more closely in her trembling embrace, and her lips in soft kisses gently glow upon my cheek.
— J. Sheridan Le Fanu

The big question is always, 'Eyes or lips?' I tend to go with the eyes because I've got a lot more material to work with now - and it saves me from reapplying lipstick! I'm a pretty low-maintenance person and it's too excessive to exaggerate both the eyes and lips. — Claire Danes

Upon returning from the store, he would put the meat into the freezer, hide his favorite fruits in the bathroom cabinet, and stuff everything else into the crisper. It was, of course, too late for crisp, but he took the refrigerator drawer at its word, insisting that it was capable of reviving the dead and returning them, hale and vibrant, to the prime of their lives. Subjected to a few days in his beloved crisper, a carrot would become as pale and soft as a flaccid penis.
"Hey," he'd say. "Somebody ought to eat this before it goes bad."

He'd take a bite, and the rest of us would wince at the unnatural silence. Too weak to resist, the carrot quietly surrendered to the force of his jaws. An overcooked hot dog would have made more noise. Wiping the juice from his lips, he would insist that this was the best carrot he'd ever eaten.
"You guys don't know what you're missing."
I think we had a pretty good idea. — David Sedaris

The girl's pretty little-girl face had deformed, lips stretching wide, becoming like the mouth of a flukeworm, a ragged pink hole encircled with teeth going all the way down her gullet. Her tongue was black, and her breath stank of old meat. — Joe Hill

There isn't a single spot I'll miss tonight, my wife." Blake pulled her against him, tilting her head until he could kiss her again. His fingers and lips made her moan. He placed a hand on her stomach and the other behind her neck. "How many times can I make you come before you can't take it anymore?"
"I think we might have one to count already."
"Really? Just from talking? Imagine what'll happen when you feel my tongue inside you." Blake backed her up against the bed.
"Get on the bed, Livia. That lingerie is about to be a very pretty necklace. — Debra Anastasia

Shawna smiles demurely at the attendant, her lips barely moving as she speaks to me. "If you had a piece of coal, we could hold her down, shove it up her ass and come collect a big fat diamond in a few days."
"I'm pretty sure it takes longer than a few days for coal to turn into a diamond, Shawna."
"Not in that tight ass, it wouldn't. — M. Leighton

Quit looking at me like that or I swear I'm going to spank that pretty little mouth of yours with my lips," said Jack in a tone only Kate could hear. — Cary West

Laurel watched his lips intently as he spoke. He thought it was pretty amazing that she knew what he was saying just from reading his lips. But it also meant a lot of times her eyes were on his mouth, not meeting his gaze. Which gave him the sneaky ability to watch her more closely than he could anyone else, without her thinking he was staring. — Erin McCarthy

She stabbed him with her wicked pretty knife, disrupted his simple life.
She's a player, a heartbreaker,
and now she breaks alone. — Coco J. Ginger

So.....you're the guy Maggie's got the hots for." Maggie rolled her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. Leave it to Shad to just come right out with it. From her dejected position, she couldn't see Johnny's response, but she felt his interest pique like a blow torch aimed right at her face. Her neck and cheeks flamed hot.

"Johnny Kinross - in the flesh," Shad was warming up to the subject now, his lines right out of a poorly-written made-for-TV movie. "You are Johnny Kinross, right? I mean...I never saw you. But I think we had a pretty good relationship." Maggie sputtered, a laugh erupting from her chest. Shad swiveled his head and gave her his "Shut-up-woman!" lips and his "domineering male" chin thrust. He was talking again before Maggie could give him her "you've-got-ten-seconds-to-vacate-the-premises-before-I-cut-you" glare in response. — Amy Harmon