Mmm Corner Quotes

In the meantime, though my kiss-stung face has returned to normal, my heart and all working body parts are absolutely not normal. Because every time Porter so much as even walks within ten feet of me at work, I have the same reaction. Four knocks on Hotbox door? I flush. Scent of coconut in the break room? I flush. Sound of Porter cracking jokes with Pangborn in the hallway? I flush. And every time this happens, Grace is there like some taunting Greek chorus, making a little mmm-hmmnoise of confirmation. Even Pangborn notices. “Are you ill, Miss Rydell?” “Yes,” I tell him in the break room one day before work. “I’m apparently very ill in the worst way. And I want you to know that I didn’t plan for this to happen. This was not part of my plan at all. If you want to know the truth, I had other plans for the summer!” I think of my boardwalk map, lying folded and abandoned in my purse. Pangborn nods slowly. “I have no idea what you mean, but I support it completely.” “Thank you,” I tell him as he walks away, whistling. Half a minute later, Porter pulls me into a dark corner of the hallway, checks around the corner, and kisses the bejesus out of me. “That’s me, destroying all your other plans,” he says wickedly. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he sounds jealous. Then he walks away, leaving me all hot and bothered. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

He turned the Corner onto Third Street and went up the block to Cup O'Joe. "Hey, Jack," said Marc, the barista, as he approached the Counter. "Latte?" "Mmm... nah. Gimme a large Mocha with a shot of hazelnut, skim, no Whip." "Okay." He rung up the sale. "By yourself tonight?" "My better half is home asleep. Just got back from a two-week trip." "Well, tell him I've got some 'regular goddamn coffee' here with his Name on it," Marc said, winking.

Lead the way, Kittycat.” My mouth dropped. “Excuse me.” “You heard me.” His voice was a low rumble, mere inches separating us. “Don’t call me that.” “Mmm. You sure enjoy judging others. Taciturn. Intimidating. Iceman. But you can’t handle how others see you.” I clenched my jaw tight. “Kittycat suits you. Sharp claws, watchful eyes, volatile when cornered.” He flicked my braid over my shoulder. I batted his hand away. His grin made me want to scream . “See what I mean.

Here,” she said. “In the corner. I think this is right.” “Mmm…” he said. “A few degrees off, so technically acute.

You said something—down in that pit,” he murmured. Yrene was too tired to form words beyond a low “Mmm.” “You said that you love me.” Well, that woke her up. Her stomach clenched. “Don’t feel obligated to—” “Is it true?” “Yes.” And though her voice was soft, she meant it with every inch of her soul. The corners of his mouth tugged upward. “Then it is a good thing, Yrene Towers, that I love you as well.

The Spirit of Christmas The Boys finished their cider and handed the vendor the cups, smacking their lips and wiping their mouths on their sleeves. The towering Vendor smiled down on them. “And a Very Merry Christmas to you two young Gents.” Jonas scowled up at him, “Christmas is a bunch of bunk, just meant for the rich. Come on Jamey.” Little James Nicholas tipped his hat to the Vendor and his eyes shined angelically when he replied, “And a Merry Christmas to you too Sir!” Jonas led the way as they raced the snowy sidewalks of New York. In his heart Jonas knew that they were late but the cider warmed him inside and he didn’t mind the risk. Mr. Angel watched them run, knowing his work was cut out for him. “Christmas a bunk, hm-mmm! I’ve some work to do with these lads and not much time to do it in.” He glanced up at the heavens calculating the time before Christmas. He then tipped his hat to the vendor as he munched the delicious cheese. The Cheese Vendor watched the kindly man depart, knowing there was indeed goodness abound in the world tonight. “Thank ye kind Sir!” The tall Toymaker waved back at him over his shoulder, while keeping the two young dashing lads in sight. “And may the Spirit of Christmas haunt your home with joy.” The Cheese Vendor chuckled to himself. “A joyful haunting? Be there such a thing?” Mr. Angel followed along after the boys. He passed a poor couple and thrust the bag of cheese into their hands. The Poor Man’s face shined with pleasure, “Thank you and bless you sir.” He nodded back at them with a smile. Ahead of him, Jonas and James rushed towards the corner. They raced past a fruit vendor and each of them snatched a piece of fruit from the boxes on display. The Fruit Vendor screamed after them, “Hey, you! Stop thieves!” A New York Policeman witnessing the theft and blew his whistle. Then he shouted after them. “Stop thieves!” He immediately took up the chase, through the down pouring snow. Mr. Angel could be seen in the background keeping pace behind the policeman. The two young boys raced along the sidewalk, twisting their way between passers-by, their eyes frantically glancing behind them at the large pursuing policeman. Suddenly Mr. Thorn, a large, burley man dressed in black blocked their way and took them both by the collars. “So there you are!” He snatched the apple quickly from James’ hand. “What have we here?” He was about to take a bite of it, when he saw the officer racing towards them. “It’s all right officer. I have the young scoundrels and I’ll make full restitutions for their thievery.” He quickly fished coins from his pocket and with a conning smile, put them in the hand of the frowning Policeman. “And a little extra for your trouble, my good man. It’s such a small crime and the criminals so . . . minor.” The burly policeman rocked back and forth considering and then grunted, after all it was Christmas. “Very well sir. I’ll give these to the Vendor but I catch either of you snatching again, it’s behind bars with you and a good strong workhouse. You got me!” Jonas glanced down at his worn out boots, his face red with shame. “Oh yes sir.” James followed suit and then glanced up into the gruff face of the law. “Sorry, we were just hungry!

He nodded, his nose brushing my face. “Feeling better,” he breathed. “Good, even. Especially when I…” he broke off. Then he tilted his hips and bore down. “Right there,” he panted. “There’s nothing like it.” Biting the corner of his lip, he picked up the pace. It was magical. Every thrust thrilled me. And the knowledge that Josh was riding me, taking pleasure from my body was just incredible. It was sensory overload of the very best kind. “Love you,” I gasped. Josh put more weight on the headboard, and moaned. He moved his hips faster now, fucking himself on me with more urgency. I slid a hand around to cup his ass. The muscle under my hand was contracting rhythmically. Damn that was sexy. I wasn’t going to last much longer. So I took Josh’s cock in hand and started to stroke. I tipped my head back, trying to hold myself together. “Need you to come for me,” I panted, skimming the pad of my thumb over his slit. “Shoot all over my chest,” I begged. Josh shivered. Dirty talk always made him hornier. I loved that. I loved to shock him a little. “I’m going to come in your ass,” I threatened. “You’re going to feel my hot seed inside you. Probably for the rest of the day.” His moans got louder, and I stroked him harder. But it was just all too good. The sights and sounds of our fucking were more than I could bear. “Gotta come,” I growled. My hips began to shake, and then I was shooting, and shooting again. I gave a shout against Josh’s pecs. He whimpered, then froze, and I worried that something was wrong. But then he drenched my hand with his seed. “Mmm,” I crooned, milking him until he finally sagged against my chest.

A smile flirts with his mouth and my stomach flutters. “I'll make you a chocolate cake tonight.” My mouth waters from those words. “Homemade cake?” “Mmm. With homemade chocolate frosting.” I swallow thickly. “Why you gotta play with my emotions?” “Why you gotta be so easily manipulated? Mention a cake and you're like putty in my hands.” “I can be,” I breathe. His eyes darken and he dips his head toward mine, his lips grazing the corner of my mouth as he whispers, “Not yet.” I think I'm going to fall to the ground when the horn blares and I jump straight up. “Fuck!” Graham winks at me and moves away. “You're getting some bad habits, Ken.” “Can you be one of them, Barbie?” Oh yeah. I am back. Take that, Graham Malone. He pauses by his door, looking at me over the hood of the truck. He shakes his head. “Nah. All I'm gonna be is good. You'll see.” I love competing Graham. He's fricking lickable. I also take back every negative thing I thought about him last night when he refused to fondle me (he should just know to do these things)...and this morning...and...any other time I found him less than appealing

shhh me!” Harper said, and then she yelled, “Oh, are you afraid your girlfriend Alison might hear us?” “Omg…” Dante, completely embarrassed, walked off quickly by himself. “Heeeeey! Where are you going in a such a hurry?” Harper yelled after PigMaster. “Did he find the taco carriage?” I said as I perked up. “No, I don’t think so, but come on, we have to go after him.” “Tsk… where is that darn thing?” I said. We followed after Dante and rounded a corner. Right when we turned the corner, we ran into a huge line in front of a small carriage. “Ah, here it is!” Dante said as he turned around. “How did you find it?” Harper asked. “I used my nose.” “Oh, I thought you went looking for your girlfriend or something.” Dante rolled his eyes. “Mmm… it smells delicious,” I said as I got closer to the carriage. “It tastes even more delicious. Come on, let’s get in line,” said Dante. “But the line… it is soooo long…” “Don’t worry, it moves quickly.” “Alright…” I said reluctantly. So, the three of us got in line, and Dante told me about the new gladiator. “Aaron the warrior upgraded to a gladiator,” said Dante. “Oh, wow, cool,” I said. “And you don’t remember the others, huh?” “Nope, there were too many to remember.” “Hm… I may need to visit all the captains to get an update on the other new upgrades, then.” “Are you trying to keep track of all of our tier 1s?” asked Harper. “Yeah, it’s good information to know.” We waited in line for about ten minutes until we reached the front. “I’ll order for us, okay?” said Dante. “Sure, since you’ve been here before, you probably know what’s good,” I said. PigMaster nodded and placed his order. “Hi, can I please get five chicken tacos, three beef super tacos, one beef burrito, two chicken super burritos, and one order of nachos?” “Holy moly! Are you trying to feed the whole city, Dante?” said Harper. Dante laughed. “Wait till you try it. Then you’ll understand.

Can't sleep?" he murmured, the corners of his eyes crinkling. She blushed, but held his gaze. "Don't wish to sleep." "Mmm. I can help with that."... "Do you have anything particular in mind?" "Everything.

He set a raspberry cheese slice wrapped in parchment paper on the counter and she slid it off, biting off the corner with an "mmm." Her eyes closed as she chewed and swallowed, taking another large bite with an even more audible sigh. "That is indecent," Steph said. He wished he could figure out the rest of their names, but at least time was on his side again. "It is indecent in the very best way," she said. "Everything tastes ten times better than it ever did before." She held out the pastry to each of her friends so they could taste, all nodding in agreement. Most patrons didn't eat their treats while still in the building, and it was wildly satisfying to witness her enjoyment, titillating even. Parts of him tightened that hadn't tightened in response to another person in much too long. One of the friends pointed out the fleck of glaze perched on her lip and she licked it into her mouth. Talk about indecent. He placed both of his hands on top of the pastry case to steady himself, his knees suddenly unstable like he'd spent a morning moving bags of flour from the kitchen to the cellar. He was grateful the apron covered the front of him.

I sense it before I see it. The anticipation lingers heavily in the air, a palpable presence, a tingling awareness that comes before the storm. I feel it even before he takes me with passion, my lover! His name is a whispered prayer on my lips. His mouth descends, warm and tender! It meets mine, a fusion of heat and hunger. My entire body ignites, like a living thread ablaze from within. The fire spreads, consuming every inch of me. His hand moves, his touch electric. He glides his hand over my hip, his finger tracing a path across my skin, mapping out pure sensation. Then, with agonizing slowness, it travels upward, across my ribs, finally cradling my breasts, which welcome him as eagerly as an apple. They ache for him, for the pressure, for the possession. His gentle mouth, mmm! Yes, amore! He journeys from my lips to the curve of my neck, his teeth grazing, sending shivers down my spine. The thrill swells like an endless volcano, magical waves claiming every corner of my body in a blissful ecstasy. At last, when he doesn’t hold back, he leaves his mark with his lips on my skin, so hot, yes, so tender. Hmm, don’t stop, no, keep going! My breath catches in my throat. The waves of pleasure build, cresting and crashing, each surge more intense than the last. The stallion’s presence, his power, his dominance. He claims me in his role as the master of countless fantasies! Each touch, each kiss, a carefully crafted note in a symphony of desire. I am lost, found, and reborn in his embrace, a willing captive to his every whim.