intimate

I couldn__ talk about it, about them__ot yet. So I breathed __ater_ and hooked my feet around his legs, drawing him closer. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath. This__ needed this right now. It wouldn__ wash away what I__ done, but _ I needed him near, needed to smell and taste him, remind myself that he was real__his was real.__ater,_ he echoed, and leaned down to kiss me.It was soft, tentative__othing like the wild, hard kisses we__ shared in the hall of throne room. He brushed his lips against mine again. I didn__ want apologies, didn__ want sympathy or coddling. I gripped the front of his tunic, tugging him closer as I opened my mouth to him.He let out a low growl, and the sound of it sent a wildfire blazing through me, pooling and burning in my core. I let it burn through that hole in my chest, my soul. Let it raze through the wave of black that was starting to press around me, let it consume the phantom blood I could still feel on my hands. I gave myself to that fire, to him, as his hands roved across me, unbuttoning as he went.I pulled back, breaking the kiss to look into his face. His eyes were bright__ungry__ut his hands had stopped their exploring and rested firmly on my hips. With a predator__ stillness, he waited and watched as I traced the contours of his face, as I kissed every place I touched.His ragged breathing was the only sound__nd his hands soon began roaming across my back and sides, caressing and teasing and baring me to him. When my traveling fingers reached his mouth, he bit down on one, sucking it into his mouth. It didn__ hurt, but the bite was hard enough for me to meet his eyes again. To realize that he was done waiting__nd so was I.He eased me onto the bed, murmuring my name against my neck, the shell of my ear, the tips of my fingers. I urged him__aster, harder. His mouth explored the curve of my breast, the inside of my thigh.A kiss for each day we__ spent apart, a kiss for every wound and terror, a kiss for the ink etched into my flesh, and for all the days we would be together after this. Days, perhaps, that I no longer deserved. But I gave myself again to that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.

Tamlin__ arm tightened around me, and he kissed the top of my head. I pulled back, looking up at him.The gold in his eyes, bright with the rising sun, flickered. __hat?___y father once told me that I should let my sisters imagine a better life__ better world. And I told him that there was no such thing._ I ran my thumb over his mouth, marveling, and shook my head. __ never understood__ecause I couldn__ _ couldn__ believe that it was even possible._ I swallowed, lowering my hand. __ntil now.__is throat bobbed. His kiss that time was deep and thorough, unhurried and intent.I let the dawn creep inside me, let it grow with each movement of his lips and brush of his tongue against mine. Tears pricked beneath my closed eyes.It was the happiest moment of my life.

The more intimate your relationship with God becomes the easier it will be for you to obey His leadings

I've written you sixty-seven love poems.Here__ another one for you.But really, for me.These poems are the candles that I light with the fire you have ignited in me.I place this candle here and another thereso even if the stars have argued with the moonand are sulking away in a corner, you can still find your way to me.Sixty-eight poems now. What does the future hold for us?Joy? Disappointment? Gentle caresses? And subtle neglect?I hope the good is more than the bad. Much more. For what is the point of loveif by lighting these candlesour own flame loses its brightness?I know the good is more than the bad. Much more.I cannot wait to write you sixty-nine.

Leaders gather scattered people with the positive influence of intimacy while misleaders scatter gathered people with the negative influence of intimidation.

Meditation is spending time with the self. It is the time to be intimated with the soul.

The personal screenplay- where you dive into the terrifying depths of your soul, unearth the most intimate details about yourself, and put it on paper for the world to see. Proceed with caution, for madness lies ahead.

I had a dream about you. It's been a while since I could remember any of my dreams, and still, this one has left me with such strong impression. Even now, when I am fully awake, your face flashes before my eyes. It's a face I can totally relate to, as if it wasn't any more yours than it is mine. Terrifying thing, you know? I can't say I've felt that sort of intimacy with anyone. For a moment you knew all my secrets, without me even having to tell them. For a moment I even knew them myself_While I was looking into your eyes, I suddenly started to realize things about myself that were unspoken for years, like fragments of my inner life that were deeply repressed. It__ hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such a dirty work, or if leaving them unnamed meant that it was not possible to define them precisely enough, so they would keep their true meaning. Perhaps, all this life that I've known so far was in fact no more but a dream about living. The only thing that has kept me in touch with reality was you_I know it comes as a surprise, and you may be wondering why it took me so long to come clean. You also may be wondering how come you've never noticed before. I've tricked you on purpose, yes, and you must realize it really has nothing to do with you. It__ always been me. This is why, seeing you in my dream like that, came out as a shock. You also must forgive me. You must forgive me because I know how it looks like, that everything we ever shared was a lie, and it wasn't_I am more of an illusionist that a deceiver, but it all comes from being in fact, a very private person. Even if it was true that you knew me better than anyone, I__ never admit it. I__ rather dig my own heart out, with a rotten spoon, than admitting it. I may let people in my own little world occasionally, but I would never let them be aware of it. I don__ throw my intimacy in front of others, especially when I care. The more I care, the less I give away, and this is something for you to understand, and grant me your forgiveness. I didn't play my tricks on you in order to deceive you, but rather to save myself, and maybe even deceive myself as well. I__e had hidden my feelings for you so deeply that I've learned to live with them, as if any other casualty. I have done wrong to myself as much as I did to you, and I don__ know if I can forgive myself. So now I wonder, could you forgive me without feeling sorry for me? I certainly don__ deserve your pity. Especially not now that I am awake.

As an introvert, you crave intimate moments and deep connections--and those usually aren't found in a crowd.

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, __nd where were you last night?__ucien__ metal eye narrowed on me. ____l have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol._ Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, __ith some company._ He gave me a sly grin. __umor has it you two didn__ come back until after dawn.__ glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I__ practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin__ gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous.__ou bit my neck on Fire Night,_ I said under my breath. __f I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.__e braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. __othing?_ His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him.__othing,_ I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin__ mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath.__re you sure?_ he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me.____ trying to eat,_ Lucien said.

You have to wait together - for a week, for a year, for a lifetime, before the final intimate conversation may be attained ... and exhausted. So that ... That in effect was love.

Intimacy makes you feel unique. Intimacy makes you feel as though you have been singled out, that someone in the world believes you have special qualities that nobody else has.

Intimacy with GOD is most exhilarating, most amazing, most exciting and most rewarding of all.

She doesnt want your dark embrace. She'll let you hold her for a short time but she won__ submit to that kind of weakness and she'll only let you get so close. In the past it was easier pushing you into the arms of another rather than face what was or what could be. She doesn't want to love; not now, so she'll close the door and toss the key.

Isaiah lazily yet deliberately tilts his head as he stares into my eyes. My entire body hums and a fuzzy sensation fills my head, making it hard to focus. My mouth opens then closes. And as he slowly bends down, my tongue quickly licks my dry lips.I hope I__ doing this right. I want to do this right.Isaiah slips his hand from my chin to cradle my head. His fingers tunnel through my hair, making the back of my neck tingle with anticipation as the pad of his thumb whispers gently against my cheek. His lips hover right next to mine and his warm breath heats my face.The blood pounds so wildly in my veins that he has to sense the vibration. There__ a magnetic pull taking over the small distance between our lips. An energy I can__ resist. My head inclines opposite his and the moment I close my eyes, his mouth brushes mine.Soft. Warm. Gentle. His lips move slowly, exerting pressure. And I feel like I can__ breathe, yet like I__ flying. The pressure ends, but his mouth stays near mine. His hand grips my waist and my spine gives at the shockingly right pleasure of his touch.Isaiah senses my weakness and his hand snakes its way around my waist, his strong arm holds me up. And he explores again. A little pressure on my lower lip. A little pressure on the top. And then I remember that I__ supposed to kiss him back.Nerves send small shock waves through my chest, and my hand trembles as I raise it to his shoulders. I press both my lips into his lower one right as my fingers caress the side of his neck. Isaiah shivers. In a good way, I think.I open my mouth to ask when his lips move fast against mine, sucking in my lower one, causing warmth and excitement to explode in my body, the aftermath of that divine encounter melting every piece of me.I moan, and Isaiah__ arm tightens, bringing my body closer to his. My lips maneuver against his in response. A yes to his pulling me closer. A yes to his lips taking in mine. A yes to the fact that he allows me to perform the same succulent kiss on him.I can__ help it. I permit the tip of my tongue to barely brush his lower lip. Isaiah curls my hair into his fist and I love how my touch affects him, affects me. Wrapping my other arm around his neck, I lose all sense of independence with his sweet taste.I like this. I like this a lot.

The kiss comes hotter and faster than before. Our lips move quickly, a hunger grows between us that can__ seem to be quenched. There__ a rhythm, a dance, and somehow, I know the steps. An instinct tells me to follow his lead, to explore even further, to touch.My hands drift down his back and when I feel scorching skin near the hem of his shirt, I gasp for air. Isaiah moans, and his lips leave mine to travel along my throat. My heart picks up speed as my entire body becomes one live electrical current.His tongue swirls against the sensitive skin right where my jaw meets my neck. I shiver and press my body closer to his. When he meets my lips again, Isaiah loops his arm around my waist and pulls me farther onto the bed. On our sides, his body heat penetrates past my clothes, past my skin, creating an inferno in my blood.A sudden coldness causes my eyes to flash open. Kneeling beside me, Isaiah__ hands go behind his head and he yanks off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. A flutter of excitement and nerves trembles in my stomach.

As he was bringing his hands up her sides, his fingers just barely brushed the outer curve of her breasts, and she gasped into his mouth.Shane immediately sat her upright, and moved to the other end of the couch. His face was flushed; his eyes were bright and no longer looked even a little bit tired. __o,__ he said, and held out his hand like a traffic cop when she tried to scoot closer. __ed flag. If you make that sound again, we are in trouble. Or I am, anyway.

Forget about that and kiss me," I say.I weave my hands in her hair. She wraps her arms around my neck as I trace the valley between her lips with my tongue. Parting her lips, I deepen the kiss. It's like a tango, first moving slow and rhythmic and then, when we're both panting and our tongues collide, the kiss turns into a hot, fast dance I never want to end. Carmen's kisses may have been hot, but Brittany's are more sensual, sexy, and extremely addictive.We're still in the car, but it's cramped and the front seats don't give us enough room. Before I know it, we've moved to the backseat. Still not ideal, but I hardly notice.I'm so getting into her moans and kisses and hands in my hair. And the smell of vanilla cookies. I'm not going to push her too far tonight. But without thinking, my hand slowly moves up her bare thigh."It feels so good," she says breathlessly.I lean her back while my hands explore on their own. My lips caress the hollow of her neck as I ease down the strap to her dress and bra. In response, she unbuttons my shirt. When it's open, her fingers roam over my chest and shoulders, searing my skin."You're . . . perfect," she