time-travel-romance

He had won. He could release her at any time. But her lips... those soft, sweet petals were parting tremulously at the touch of his tongue, and she was granting him entry to the warmth of her mouth. He thrust boldly inside, wanting but one taste of her. Only one.

Inch by inch it's all a cinch, by the yard it's hard. Go for it -- no matter how slow or long the process seems at first.

Adventure begins with a thought, decision and action.

If we seek for the best times to act, we may miss some opportunities. We must seize the moment and make it great.

Time is but a destination.

Beauty is the moment when time vanishes. Beauty is the space where eternity arises.

My fear for you outweighs my fear of him,_ he said simply. __nd I told you, didn__ I? If you left, I__ follow you.__ut should you try to leave on your own, know that I will go to the ends of the earth to bring you back.

But nothing compared to the reality of the magnificent Light Storm of 2015, nothing, that is, except the almond shaped emerald eyes of his passenger.

Are you saying that we can affect what happened in the past? That we can change it?

Time cannot be changed, but time can change you. -YakupAdar

You know how they say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes? It doesn__. That is just a notion they came up with for books and movies to make death seem romantic. Here__ what really happens: Your intestines feel like a dishrag that__ being wrung dry and your stomach acts like a balloon when you let the air out of it

What a trio we are: wolf, dragon and . . ._ Ronan bit back the word. Shifter. He sat straighter in the saddle, raising one hand in farewell as his mount broke through the last of the boundary mists. __ay the gods favor us this time, my friend. Pray Mairi Sinclair is the one.

He inclined his head toward a fallen log. "Come. Let us break our fast." She pushed the heels of her hands against her temples as if she had an ache in her head. "I need a cup of coffee." William sat on a log. "What is this ye say ... coffee?" She looked at him and arched one brow as if she considered him daft. "It's a hot drink that helps me wake up in the morning." "But ye are already awake.

She didn__ have a hat or a veil or anything in her hands. No one had offered so much as a single dried-out flower; she had nothing to hold onto to steady her shaking fingers. Her head pounded as hard and as painfully as her rapid heartbeat. She stood there, unable to move, staring at the man who waited at the end of the aisle. This unpredictable knight who hours ago had touched her, kissed her, caressed her in a way that still made her tremble, then sworn he would never do so again. This dark lord who despised her. This man she was about to marry.

A fierce possessiveness gripped him, a need to brand her, to make her his, now and forever. And he knew it was madness.

She ... grabbed her bra, clasping it and shoving her arms through. "Ye harness your udders?" The man was insufferable. "For your information, it's a bra - short for brassiere, something that wasn't invented until the twentieth century.

I believe I was about to do this." He angled his head and nibbled on her lower lip. A small moan escaped her. Emboldened, he deepened the kiss and found she did not hesitate to explore on her own. Blood rushed to his groin and stiffened his arousal. Never had he met a lady so comfortable with her sensuality.

His mouth captured hers with a strong, soft heat and Celine discovered something far sexier than this man__ voice or his body. His kiss. She never had the chance to think of a protest. To think at all. She had been kissed before, but never like this. It was neither awkward and teasing nor forceful and overpowering, but long, slow, confident, and devastating. It was as if he were binding them together, deftly drawing her soul into his.