“But Amory, being on the spot, leaned over quickly and kissed Myra’s cheek. He had never kissed a girl before, and he tasted his lips curiously, as if he had munched some new fruit. Then their lips brushed like young wild flowers in the wind. ‘We’re Awful,’ rejoiced Myra gently. she slipped her hand into his, her dead drooped against his shoulder. Sudden revulsion seized Amory, disgust, loathing for the whole incident. He desired frantically to be away, never to see Myra again, never to kiss anyone; he became conscious of his face and hers, of their clinging hands, and he wanted to creep out of his body and hide somewhere safe out of sight, up in the corner of his mind.”
“He could not remember when anything had felt so young and fresh as her lips. The rain lay, like tears shed for him, upon the softly shining porcelain cheeks. She was all new and immaculate, and her eyes were wild.”
“In a single moment, he kickstarted my heart and destroyed my world with a single kiss.”
“Iris gasped. Dyemore s mouth burned. Almost his entire weight had sagged against her- and he wasn t a small man- but it was the kiss that most startled her. He... She could taste him, the wine he must ve drunk this morning, the scent of smoke in his hair, drifting about her face, the heat rolling off him in thick waves. He was so overwhelmingly large, so excruciatingly masculine. She d been married. She d been kissed before- of course she had- but it hadn t been like this. Nothing like this. It was as if everything that made her female was being awakened and called forth by everything male in him.”
“If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too? - Lucien Vanserra”
“Urges. Mercy, the urges.”
“Considering she’d just blown his gray matter into the ether, he was screwed.”
“So this is what you two do when you’re up here,” Dean drawls. “All that deep, intensive tutoring.” He air-quotes the last word, chuckling in delight. “Actually, Garrett’s just helping me brush up on my make-out skills,” I tell Dean in the most casual voice I can muster. Dean snickers. “’That so?” “Okay…” Dean’s eyes gleam. “Then I’m calling your bluff, baby doll. Show me your moves.” I blink in surprise. “What?” “If a doctor told you you’ve got ten days to live, you’d go for a second opinion, wouldn’t you? Well, if you’re worried about being a crappy kisser, you can’t just take G’s word for it. You need a second opinion.” His brows lift in challenge. “Let me see what you’ve got.” “Stop being a jackass,” Garrett mutters. “No, he has a point,” I answer awkwardly, and my brain screams, What? He has a point? Apparently Garrett’s body-melting kisses have turned me into a crazy person.”
“He cupped his hand around her cheek, and she marveled at how perfectly his palm fit her cheek. His fingers in her hair, she waited, maybe for an eternity, for his lips to meet hers. When they did it was like being inside an exploding star. Time and space became irrelevant. She slipped her arms under his, clinging to him, his body the only thing stopping her from drifting away, untethered in space. His hand on her back slipped under layers of clothes, finding her skin. He pulled her close, and she leaned into him, feeling like she could never be close enough to him.”
“It s shocking, isn t it, that a kiss could have led to something so big and violent and full of light as a human being? It makes me dizzy to think of all the things that start that way. Whole families, whole countries, whole worlds. Isn t it strange how a whole life can begin with a little spark?”
“Cash leaned forward against her hand and Harper met him halfway. The kiss was powerful and demanding. Harper wrapped her arms around Cash, feeling his heartbeat against her chest. The kiss was more aggressive than either of them meant it to be, and, when they pulled apart, they were both breathing fast, like they had sprinted toward each other. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” Cash said, out of breath. “Eight years,” Harper murmured. “My whole life,” Cash corrected, leaning in again.”
“It took a moment to right himself, and he pulled his shoulders back as he regained his equilibrium. He didn t want to be half asleep the first time he kissed Ellie. For that, he wanted to be wide awake.”
“Claire started to follow, but Shane s grip on her arm had tightened, and he was holding her back. What? she asked, and turned to face him. God, he looked amazing. He needed to let Eve dress him all the time. Before we go in, he said, and bent and kissed her. Claire distantly heard the whistles and catcalls of the shot drinkers -- distantly, because the kiss was sweet and hot and wild, and there was something crazy in it that made her just quiver inside. He pulled away way too soon. Stay with me, he said, with his lips near her ear, and she nodded. Like I d let you out of my sight. ”
“Farragut s first visitor was his wife. He was raking leaves in yard Y when the PA said that 734-508-32 had a visitor. He jogged up the road past the firehouse and into the tunnel. It was four flights up to cellblock F. Visitor, he said to Walton, who let him into his cell. He kept his white shirt prepared for visits. It was dusty. He washed his face and combed his hair with water. Don t take nuttin but a handkerchief, said the guard. I know, I know, I know.... Down he went to the door of the visitor s room, where he was frisked. Through the glass he saw that his visitor was Marcia. There were no bars in the visitor s room, but the glass windows were chicken-wired and open only at the top. A skinny cat couldn t get in or out, but the sounds of the prison moved in freely on the breeze. She would, he knew, have passed three sets of bars - clang, clang, clang - and waited in an anteroom where there were pews or benches, soft-drink engines and a display of the convict s art with prices stuck in the frames. None of the cons could paint, but you could always count on some wet-brain to buy a vase of roses or a marine sunset if he had been told that the artist was a lifer. There were no pictures on the walls of the visitor s room but there were four signs that said: NO SMOKING, NO WRITING, NO EXCHANGE OF OBJECTS, VISITORS ARE ALLOWED ONE KISS.”
“I kissed the girl on the lips, as if to suck her breath inside me. When I did this, the girl wilted, ever so slightly. In my arms, gradually she became lighter, and more transparent. The smell of lilies rose up, filling my breast, overwhelming me. The taste of the kiss was so sweet, I couldn t stop–even thoughI knew she would go on wilting if I continued. The girl was wilting by the instant, and something thick and strong was filling my breast.”
“He crushes his lips to mine. My face is already wet from tears, but the kiss isn’t sweet and romantic. At that moment, it feels like a kiss of life or death. It is carnal and harsh. I will never forget this kiss.”
“I had shelved expectations of another kiss; the intensity of not kissing now worked almost as well—the proximity and denial.”