Sealed With A Loving Kiss Quotes

Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again - the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world's greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding

O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.' A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: 'Forever.

I Like For You To Be Still I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent And you hear me from far away And my voice does not touch you It seems as though your eyes had flown away And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth As all things are filled with my soul You emerge from the things Filled with my soul You are like my soul A butterfly of dream And you are like the word: Melancholy I like for you to be still And you seem far away It sounds as though you are lamenting A butterfly cooing like a dove And you hear me from far away And my voice does not reach you Let me come to be still in your silence And let me talk to you with your silence That is bright as a lamp Simple, as a ring You are like the night With its stillness and constellations Your silence is that of a star As remote and candid I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent Distant and full of sorrow So you would've died One word then, One smile is enough And I'm happy; Happy that it's not true

My love has placed her little hand With noble faith in mine, And vowed that wedlock's sacred band Our nature shall entwine. My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, With me to live -- to die; I have at last my nameless bliss: As I love -- loved am I!

Except fang. I glared at him. "Go on, try to stop me, I dare you." It was like the old days when we used to wrestle, each trying to get the better of the other. I was ready to take him down, my hands curled into fist. "I was just going to say be careful," Fang told me. He stepped closer and brushed some hair out of my eyes. "And I've got your back." He motioned with his head toward the torpedo chamber. Oh my God. It hit me like a tsunami then, how perfect he was for me, how no one else would ever, could ever, be so perfect for me, how he was everything I could possibly hope for, as a friend, boyfriend, maybe even more. He was it for me. There would be no more looking. I really, really loved him, with a whole new kind of love I'd never felt before, something that made every other kind of love I'd ever felt feel washed out and wimpy in comparison. I loved him with every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every feather in my wings, every breathe in my lungs. and air sacs. Too bad I was going out to face almost certain death. Right there in front of everyone, I threw my arms around his neck and smashed my mouth against his. He was startled for a second, then his strong arms wrapped around me so tightly I could hardly breathe. "ZOMG," I heard Nudge whisper, but still fang and I kissed slanting our heads this way and that to get closer. I could have stood there and kissed him happily for the next millennium, but Angel, or what was left of her was still out there in the could dark ocean. Reluctantly, I ended the kiss, took a step back. Fang's obsidian eyes were glittering brightly and his stoic face had a look of wonder on it."Gotta go," I said quietly. A half smile quirked his mouth. "Yeah. Hurry back." I nodded and he stepped out of the air lock chamber, keeping his eyes fixed on me, memorizing me as he hit the switch that sealed the chamber. The doors hissed shut with a kind of finality, and I realized that my heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to start snapping ribs. I was scared. I was crazily, deeply, incredibly, joyously, terrifyingly in love. I was on a death mission. Before my head simply exploded from so much emotion, I hit the large button that pressurized the air lock enough for the doors to open to the ocean outside. I really, really hoped that I would prove somewhat uncrushable, like Angel did. The door cracked open below me and I saw the first dark glint of frigid water.

Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down, you dig, farting out the words. It was unlike anything I ever heard. Bubbly, thick, stagnant sound. A sound you could smell. This man worked for the carnival,you dig? And to start with it was like a novelty ventriloquist act. After a while, the ass started talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared... and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. Then it developed sort of teethlike... little raspy incurving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it... but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street... shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags. Nobody loved it. And it wanted to be kissed, same as any other mouth. Finally, it talked all the time, day and night. You could hear him for blocks, screaming at it to shut up... beating at it with his fists... and sticking candles up it, but... nothing did any good, and the asshole said to him... "It is you who will shut up in the end, not me... "because we don't need you around here anymore. I can talk and eat and shit." After that, he began waking up in the morning with transparentjelly... like a tadpole's tail all over his mouth. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands... like burning gasoline jelly and grow there. So, finally, his mouth sealed over... and the whole head... would have amputated spontaneously except for the eyes, you dig? That's the one thing that the asshole couldn't do was see. It needed the eyes. Nerve connections were blocked... and infiltrated and atrophied. So, the brain couldn't give orders anymore. It was trapped inside the skull... sealed off. For a while, you could see... the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes. And then finally the brain must have died... because the eyes went out... and there was no more feeling in them than a crab's eye at the end of a stalk.

May this marriage be blessed. May this marriage be as sweet as milk and honey. May this marriage be as intoxicating as old wine. May this marriage be fruitful like a date tree. May this marriage be full of laughter and everyday a paradise. May this marriage be a seal of compassion for here and hereafter. May this marriage be as welcome as the full moon in the night sky. Listen lovers, now you go on, as I become silent and kiss this blessed night.

If Sloane’s quiet words hadn’t been enough to get Dex squirming in his towel, Sloane’s quick kiss to his lips sealed the deal. Oh God, he was about to get a hard-on at work, and the bastard that was the cause of it was loving every moment of it. Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Ash’s growl echoed through the showers. “What are you two gay boys doing in there?” Aaand done. --Dex

A kiss! When all is said, what is a kiss? An oath of allegiance taken in closer proximity, a promise more precise, a seal on a confession, a rose-red dot upon the letter i in loving; a secret which elects the mouth for ear; an instant of eternity murmuring like a bee; balmy communion with a flavor of flowers; a fashion of inhaling each other's hearts, and of tasting, on the brink of the lips, each other's soul!

The next day, I am almost afraid. Love? It was more like dragonflies in the sun, 100 degrees at noon, the ends of their abdomens stuck together. I close my eyes when I remember. I hardly knew myself, like something twisting and twisting out of a chrysalis, enormous, without language, all head, all shut eyes, and the humming like madness, the way they writhe away, and do not leave, back, back, away, back. Did I know you? No kiss, no tenderness—more like killing, death-grip holding to life, genitals like violent hands clasped tight barely moving, more like being closed in a great jaw and eaten, and the screaming. I groan to remember it, and when we started to die, then I refuse to remember, the way a drunkard forgets. After, you held my hands extremely hard as my body moved in shudders like the ferry when its axle is loosed past engagement, you kept me sealed exactly against you, our hairlines wet as the arc of a gateway after a cloudburst, you secured me in your arms till I slept - clasped, fragrant, buoyant, that was the morning after love.

The truest love that ever heart Felt at its kindled core, Did through each vein, in quickened start, The tide of being pour. Her coming was my hope each day, Her parting was my pain; The chance that did her steps delay Was ice in every vein. I dreamed it would be nameless bliss, As I loved, loved to be; And to this object did I press As blind as eagerly. But wide as pathless was the space That lay our lives between, And dangerous as the foamy race Of ocean-surges green. And haunted as a robber-path Through wilderness or wood; For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath, Between our spirits stood. I dangers dared; I hindrance scorned; I omens did defy: Whatever menaced, harassed, warned, I passed impetuous by. On sped my rainbow, fast as light; I flew as in a dream; For glorious rose upon my sight That child of Shower and Gleam. Still bright on clouds of suffering dim Shines that soft, solemn joy; Nor care I now, how dense and grim Disasters gather nigh. I care not in this moment sweet, Though all I have rushed o'er Should come on pinion, strong and fleet, Proclaiming vengeance sore: Though haughty Hate should strike me down, Right, bar approach to me, And grinding Might, with furious frown, Swear endless enmity. My love has placed her little hand With noble faith in mine, And vowed that wedlock's sacred band Our nature shall entwine. My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, With me to live--to die; I have at last my nameless bliss. As I love--loved am I!

During times of physical separation, when touching and caressing is impossible, a deep, longing, almost a hunger, for the beloved can set in. We are used to thinking of this longing as only psychological, but it's actually physical. The brain is virtually in a drug-withdrawal state. During a separation, motivation for reunion can reach a fever pitch in the brain. Activities such as caressing, kissing, gazing, hugging, and orgasm can replenish the chemical bond of love and trust in the brain. The oxytocin-dopamine rush once again suppresses anxiety and skepticism and reinforces the love circuits in the brain. From an experiment we also know that oxytocin is naturally released in the brain after a twenty-second hug from a partner- sealing the bond between huggers and triggering the brain's trust circuits.

Something is going to happen, Laura thought. She was going to be kissed. On one side of a kiss was childhood, sunshine,innocence, toys and, on the other, people embracing, darkness, passion and the admittance of a person who, no matter how loved, must always have a quality of otherness, not only to her confidence, but somehow inside her sealing skin.

Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. Juliet! ...O my love! my wife! Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquered; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? O, what more favor can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; And never from this palace of dim night Depart again: here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids...Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death... Here's to my love!...Thus with a kiss I die.

I never told you How I longed to kiss away your every bruise until there was no evidence No ghosts of your own suffering To put your pieces back together Seal the cracks Vanish them like they never were And never, ever Leave a scar" "I never told you I would take your pain if I could I would drink it down And take my comfort In making you ache a little less For a little while Did I? I'll never know because I never told you that I loved you

There is the kiss of welcome and of parting, the long, lingering, loving, present one; the stolen, or the mutual one; the kiss of love, of joy, and of sorrow; the seal of promise and receipt of fulfillment.

I love that accent you have when you say hello You relocated from New York a month ago That minivan that you drive really gets me going And if it feels like it's right Then it can't be wrong No one understands the chemistry we have And it came out of nowhere Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah It's not like we planned this, it's getting out of hand And now we're gonna go there Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Walk my way Mrs All American Say my name No need to pretend Don't be shy Mrs All American I'll show you why You're not gonna walk away Yeah Not just a neighbour Oh hey there I'll ring your bell Open your door, pucker up And I'll kiss you well My lips are sealed There's nobody that I would tell Your secret's mine, close your eyes And I'll make you melt No one understands the chemistry we have And it came out of nowhere Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah It's not like we planned this, it's getting out of hand And now we're gonna go there Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Walk my way Mrs All American Say my name No need to pretend Don't be shy Mrs All American I'll show you why You're not gonna walk away Oh yeah Na na na na na na na na You know what she like Na na na na na na na na You know what she like Na na na na na na na na Ah you know what she like Na na na na na na na Walk my way Mrs All American Say my name No need to pretend Don't be shy Mrs All American I'll show you why You're not gonna walk away (Walk my way) Oh yeah (Say my name) You're not gonna walk away (Don't be shy) (I'll show you why) You're not gonna walk away

Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. I have sent up my gladness on wings, to be lost in the blue of the sky. I have run and leaped with the rain, I have taken the wind to my breast. My cheek like a drowsy child to the face of the earth I have pressed. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. I have kissed young love on the lips, I have heard his song to the end. I have struck my hand like a seal in the loyal hand of a friend. I have known the peace of heaven, the comfort of work done well. I have longed for death in the darkness and risen alive out of hell. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. I give a share of my soul to the world where my course is run. I know that another shall finish the task I must leave undone. I know that no flower, nor flint was in vain on the path I trod. As one looks on a face through a window, through life I have looked on God. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.

Just don't be surprised if while you are looking to the heavens, I am looking to you. You, my dear Mrs. Hastings,are all the beauty, guidance, and light I will ever need.

But my beautiful boy was broken. I eased my hand free from his and leaned down to brush a kiss across his lips, sealing a promise that I’d made to him. “I love you so much. So much. You brought magic into my world the first day I saw you, and every day since—even when we were apart and I didn’t want to remember. I won’t let them take the magic away, Kes. I won’t.” I kissed him again, feeling the soft prickle of stubbled cheeks. “I’ll be back tomorrow, because you’ll never be rid of me. Not ever.” And if I listened very carefully, I could hear his heart beating out a message, Love you more.

How can you have such faith in me?” he asked hoarsely. “How can you believe in me when I’ve given you no reason?” “You’ve given me plenty of reasons, but there’s only one that matters. I love you, Oliver. I can’t help myself. That is my reason.” He began to shake, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I love you,” she repeated as she kissed his cheek. “I love you.” She kissed the other cheek, now damp, though she wasn’t sure whether from her tears or his. “I love you so much.” She brushed his lips with hers. He held her back to search her face. “God help you if that is a lie,” he said in an aching voice. “Because those words have sealed your fate. I’ll never let you go, now.

Another sob came, harder than the first, but she couldn't cover her face and her mastectomy scars at the same time when he raised his head. When she tried, Luke merely caught her wrists and lightly pinned them on either side of her head. "It's all right, Em. Tears are part of this," he whispered, bending to kiss them away. He moved gently within her, another tender caress that soothed as much as it stimulated. It broke the seal on the dam of her tears. They came out in a quiet rush while he stayed above her, eyes on her face as he murmured soothing things she didn't quite catch. And when the tears slowed, she looked up into his handsome face with a sniffle and the smile he gave her filled her heart to overflowing. Dear God she loved him. Had always loved him and would never love another man but him. Her heart had known it all along. And so had her body. Still, she tensed when he released one of her wrists to touch the skin beneath her right collarbone. Luke shook his dark head, those liquid eyes looking right into her soul. "I won't let you hide from me. Or from yourself." Embedded deep inside her, he raised his upper body to gaze at her, and all she could do was close her eyes in resistance. "Look at me." After a long hesitation, she did. He stared down at her with a powerful mixture of tenderness and hunger. "You think a scar's going to change how I see you? Feel about you?" She swallowed and struggled to find her voice. "It's ugly." "You're beautiful to me, Em. Always." She opened her mouth to say something but he leaned down to kiss her again. "Give me your hand," he coaxed, his voice a seductive whisper. She did, tentatively, and his fingers closed around hers in a warm grip. Strong and reassuring. "Accept who you are. Be proud of your body. It's fighting a war for you.

If heaven existed, it surely had to be against his lips, in his kisses and his arms around me. His kisses were tender, sweet, breathtaking, and too good to be true! Time ceased to exist. Gravity was a vague idea in my mind. I couldn’t let him go. I wanted more and more. I wanted his tongue and my tongue playing together, discovering and making me feel alive and happy. I wanted our lips sealed together, his arms around me, pulling me tight against his solid warm body. I wanted to melt and merge with him. They weren’t normal kisses; they were mind-blowing experiences!

Wrap him up in floral wallpaper, wishing the envelopes I seal were his lips, leaving hickeys like stamps to show where he's been.

I answered his question with a kiss that sealed off any hesitations. He was always going to have my heart and everything else inside.

We sealed it with a kiss, and with the kiss, we sealed what would eventually become an engagement, a marriage, a Cape Cod, a dog, grilled cheese sandwiches on Mondays, and everything in between.

He leans over and puts the radio on. It’s Jason Donovan’s ‘Sealed With A Kiss’. ‘I love the music they play up here in the sticks,’ I say ‘We’re in Oxfordshire, darling. Not Far East Kentucky,’ replies Jake ‘When I first heard this song, I thought it was about sea eels,’ I say. ‘Because it’s about summer,which means swimming, and I’d just found out that sea eels even existed, and it seemed to make sense.’ ‘Sea eeled with a kiss?’ repeats Jake

Hush, Sophie. You’re beautiful.” It was, mostly, a quote from the movie, and it finished Elijah off. Shutting his eyes, he leaned into Baz’s touch. “Don’t eat my heart, Howl.” “Never,” Baz vowed, sealing the promise with a kiss.

With ye, I don’t want your land or money. I don’t need power or prestige. I just want ye. I love ye, Aella. I love it when you’re angry and outspoken and killing things. I love ye when ye claw my back to ribbons and scream to wake the dead. I love that ye are not meek or mild, or willing to let others make your decisions.” “Even if it does drive you mental and I need to have the last word?” “Because ye do those things.” “So we’re stuck together forever?” “And ever.” “Seal it with a kiss?” she asked with a sensuous smile. Her Scot did better than that. He made short work of their clothes, his powerful hands ripping them from their bodies while she laughed, a young, girlish sound, carefree and wanton.

He kissed her forehead and pushed away. She moved so he could reach the doorknob and open the door. Standing in the opening, he glanced back at her. She waited for him to say something... Goodbye, Thanks for the blowjob, something, anything. Instead, he tipped his head in a small nod, stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. That was it, then. In less than an hour, this man had captured her heart, loved her and then left her. It had to be the quickest beginning ,middle and ending of a romance in the history of the world.

He knew he needed to release her, but once he allowed his physical connection to drop away, he was uncertain if he’d ever have a chance to reconnect. Instinctively, he knew Azami was elusive, like water flowing through fingers, or the wind shifting in the trees. He needed a way to seal her to him. “How does one court a woman in Japan? Do I need your brothers’ permission?” She blinked again. Shocked. A hint of uncertainty crept into her eyes. She frowned, and he bent his head to swallow her protest before she could utter it. Her mouth trembled beneath his, and then she opened to him, like a flower, luring him deeper. Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing tightly against his. He tightened his fingers in her hair. He was burning, through and through, from the inside out, a hot melting of bone and tissue. He hadn’t known he was lonely or even looking for something. He’d been complete. He loved his wife. He was a man with teammates he trusted implicitly. He lived in wild places of beauty he enjoyed. He hadn’t considered there would be a woman who could ever fit with him, who would ever turn his insides soft and his body hard. Feel the same way, Azami. He didn’t lift his mouth, kissing her again and again because one he’d made the mistake, he was addicted and what was the use fighting it? Not when it felt so damn right. Somewhere along the line, his kiss went from sheer aggression and command, to absolute tenderness. The emotion for her rose like a volcano, encompassing him entirely, drawn from some part of him he’d never known even existed. His mouth was gentle, his hands on her, possessive, yet just as gentle. Another claiming, this coming from that deep unknown well. Feel the same way, Azami, he whispered into her mind. An enticement. A need. He waited, something in him going still, waiting for her answer. Tell me how you’re feeling? She hadn’t pulled away. If anything, her arms had tightened around his neck. He shared every single breath she took, feeling the slight movement of her rib cage and breasts against him, the warm air they exchanged. Like I’m burning alive. Drowning. Like I never want this moment to end. He wasn’t a man to say flowery things to a woman, nor did he even think them, but he shared the honest truth with her. Like we belong. Once he let her go, the world would slip back into kilter. He wanted her to stay with him, to give him a chance with her. She didn’t hesitate, and he loved that about her as well. She gave herself in truth in the same way he did. I feel the same, but one of us has to be sane. She initiated the kiss when he pulled back slightly, chasing after him with her soft mouth, fingers digging tightly into the heavy muscle at his neck, sighing when his lips settled once more over hers. He took his time, kissing her thoroughly, again and again, all the while slipping deeper into her spell and hoping she was falling under his. Is this your idea of sanity? He’d make it his reality. He was falling further down the rabbit hole and he’d make her his sanity if she’d fall with him. Her soft laughter slipped inside his heart, winding there until there was no shaking her loose. Not really, but you have to be the strong one. He kissed her again. And again. Why is that? You started this.

All I could see were Will’s intense blue eyes, and the joy that flashed across them as they flickered down to the low neckline of my gown. All I could hear was the deep, reverent rumble of his voice as he repeated his vow to honor, and cherish, and love me for the rest of our lives. And all I could feel was the juxtaposition of cool metal and warm skin as he slid the ring on my finger. It was all I could process . . . until he kissed me, that is. Because that kiss erased everything that came before it. You may now kiss your bride. The world fell away. It really did. It was just us in that tiny spot of land, standing in silence and staring at each other, on the verge of sealing this commitment we’d made. I couldn’t stop smiling.

I spin in the trail to face Kat, who raises her own walking stick to meet mine. ‘A duel to the death?’ Kat says, giggling. I laugh, too, and we spar for a moment playfully until Kat gently presses the tip of her stick into my chest. ‘On your knees and beg for mercy.’ Oh, god. This feels silly and dangerous at the same time. I kneel. I look up at Kat, beautiful and fierce standing there with the setting sun in her hair and her face so stern. Only her eyes are full of mirth. I stare. ‘Close your eyes, prisoner.’ I giggle stupidly, my heart leaping at the point of her stick. ‘Close your eyes. And stop laughing.’ I try to obey, shaking a little. Katy moves her makeshift lance to my neck, pressing gently. ‘Close em.’ I close my eyes, serious at last. There is a long silence, and I feel genuinely vulnerable for a moment, as though Kat really does have a sword to my neck. Then I feel the stick come down gently and touch each of my shoulders. ‘I… dub… thee… mine,’ says Kat softly. ‘Sealed with a kiss.’ The stick falls to the forest floor behind her. She kneels down in front of me and touches my face with both hands. It’s all I can do to stay here, to be here, to hold still.

He approached her, his voice taking on a seductive tenor. "Shall we seal it with a kiss, then?" Callie caught her breath and stiffened at the question. Ralston smiled at her obvious nerves. He ran a finger along the edge of her hairline, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind her ear gently. She looked up at him with her wide brown eyes, and he felt a burst of tenderness in his chest. He leaned close, moving slowly, as though she might scare at any moment, and his firm mouth brushed across hers, settling briefly, barely touching before she jumped back, one hand flying to her lips. He leveled her with a frank gaze and waited for her to speak. When she didn't, he asked, "Is there a problem?" "N-No!" she said, a touch too loudly. "Not at all, my lord. That is- Thank you." His breath exhaled on a half laugh. "I'm afraid that you have mistaken the experience." He paused, watching the confusion cross her face. "You see, when I agree to something, I do it wholeheartedly. That was not the kiss for which you came, little mouse." Callie wrinkled her nose at his words, and at the nickname he had used for her. "It wasn't?" "No." Her nervousness flared, and she resumed toying with her cloak tassel. "Oh, well. It was quite nice. I find I am quite satisfied that you have held up your end of our bargain." "Quite nice isn't what you should be aiming for," he said, taking her restless hands into his own and allowing his voice to deepen. "Neither should the kiss leave you satisfied." She tugged briefly, giving up when he would not free her and instead pulled her closer, setting her hands upon his shoulders. He trailed his fingers down her neck, leaving her breathless, her voice a mere squeak when she replied, "How should it leave me?" He kissed her then. Really kissed her. He pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to hers, possessing, owning in a way she could never have imagined. His lips, firm and warm, played across her own, tempting her until she was gasping for breath. He captured the sound in his mouth, taking advantage of her open lips to run his tongue along them, tasting her lightly until she couldn't bear the teasing. He seemed to read her thoughts, and just when she couldn't stand another moment, he gathered her closer and deepened the kiss, changing the pressure. He delved deeper, stroked more firmly. And she was lost. Callie was consumed, finding herself desperate to match his movements. Her hands seemed to move of their own volition, running along his broad shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Tentatively, she met Ralston's tongue with her own and was rewarded with a satisfied sound from deep in his throat as he tightened his grip, sending another wave of heat through her. He retreated, and she followed, matching his movements until his lips closed scandalously around her tongue and he sucked gently- the sensation rocked her to her core. All at once she was aflame.

It makes it even, but look at us now. We were up on a mountain. We were up so high, Frank. We had it all, out there, that night. I didn't know I could feel anything like that. And we kissed and sealed it so it would be there forever, no matter what happened. We had more than any two people in the world. And then we fell down. First you, and then me. Yes, it makes it even. We're down here together. But we're not up high any more. Our beautiful mountain is gone.

Christy dug her hand deeper into her shoulder bag. Scanning the papers she finally located there, she found no phone numbers or addresses listed. All the plans had been made in such haste. All she knew was that someone was supposed to meet her here. She was here, and he or she wasn't. Never in her life had she felt so completely alone. Stranded with nowhere to turn. A prayer came quickly to her lips. "Father God, I'm at Your mercy here. I know You're in control. Please show me what to do." Suddenly she heard a voice calling to her. "Kilikina!" Christy's heart stopped. Only one person in the entire world had ever called her by her Hawaiian name. She spun around. "Kilikina," called out the tall, blond surfer who was running toward her. Christy looked up into the screaming silver-blue eyes that could only belong to one person. "Todd?" she whispered, convinced she was hallucinating. "Kilikina," Todd wrapped his arms around her so tightly that for an instant she couldn't breathe. He held her a long time. Crying. She could feel his warm tears on her neck. She knew this had to be real. But how could it be? "Todd?" she whispered again. "How? I mean, what...? I don't..." Todd pulled away, and for the first time she noticed the big gouquet of white carnations in his hand. They were now a bit squashed. "For you," he said, his eyes clearing and his rich voice sounding calm and steady. Then, seeing her shocked expression, he asked, "You really didn't know I was here, did you?" Christy shook her head, unable to find any words. "Didn't Dr. Benson tell you?" She shook her head again. "You mean you came all this way by yourself, and you didn't even know I was here?" Now it was Todd's turn to look surprised. "No, I thought you were in Papua New Guinea or something. I had no idea you were here!" "They needed me here more," Todd said with a chin-up gesture toward the beach. "It's the perfect place for me." With a wide smile spreading above his square jaw, he said, "Ever since I received the fax yesterday saying they were sending you, I've been out of my mind with joy! Kilikina, you can't imagine how I've been feeling." Christy had never heard him talk like this before. Todd took the bouquet from her and placed it on top of her luggage. Then, grasping both her quivering hands in his and looking into her eyes, he said, "Don't you see? There is no way you or I could ever have planned this. It's from God." The shocked tears finally caught up to Christy's eyes, and she blinked to keep Todd in focus. "It is," she agreed. "God brought us back together, didn't He?" A giggle of joy and delight danced from her lips. "Do you remember what I said when you gave me back your bracelet?" Todd asked. "I said that if God ever brought us back together, I would put that bracelet back on your wrist, and that time, it would stay on forever." Christy nodded. She had replayed the memory of that day a thousand times in her mind. It had seemed impossible that God would bring them back together. Christy's heart pounded as she realized that God, in His weird way, had done the impossible. Todd reached into his pocket and pulled out the "Forever" ID bracelet. He tenderly held Christy's wrist, and circling it with the gold chain, he secured the clasp. Above their heads a fresh ocean wind blew through the palm trees. It almost sounded as if the trees were applauding. Christy looked up from her wrist and met Todd's expectant gaze. Deep inside, Christy knew that with the blessing of the Lord, Todd had just stepped into the garden of her heart. In the holiness of that moment, his silver-blue eyes embraced hers and he whispered, "I promise, Kilikina. Forever." "Forever," Christy whispered back. Then gently, reverently, Todd and Christy sealed their forever promise with a kiss.

Thursday 8 February [Halifax] Came upstairs at 11 a.m. Spent my time from then till 3, writing to M— very affectionately, more so than I remember to have done for long… Wrote the following crypt, ‘I can live upon hope, forget that we grow older, & love you as warmly as ever. Yes, Mary, you cannot doubt the love of one who has waited for you so long & patiently. You can give me all of happiness I care for &, prest to the heart which I believe my own, caressed & treasured there, I will indeed be constant & never, from that moment, feel a wish or thought for any other than my wife. You shall have every smile & every breath of tenderness. “One shall our union & our interests be” & every wish that love inspires & every kiss & every dear feeling of delight shall only make me more securely & entirely yours.’ Then, after hoping to see her in York next winter & at Steph’s2 before the end of the summer, I further wrote in crypt as follows, ‘I do not like to be too long estranged from you sometimes, for, Mary, there is a nameless tie in that soft intercourse which blends us into one & makes me feel that you are mine. There is no feeling like it. There is no pledge which gives such sweet possession.’ Monday 12 February [Halifax] Letter… from Anne Belcombe (Petergate, York)… nothing but news & concluded, ‘from your ever sincere, affectionate, Anne Belcombe.’ The seal, Cupid in a boat guided by a star. ‘Si je te perds, je suis perdu.’3 Such letters as these will keep up much love on my part. I shall not think much about her but get out of the scrape as well as I can, sorry & remorseful to have been in it at all. Heaven forgive me, & may M— never know it.

learned this. It is a lesson he has closed himself to. From the moment he meets Daisy, his ideas about who he is and what he wants and what he can become are immutable. It’s ironic that he is so in love with the moment of greatest possibility in his youth, the moment he kissed Daisy, but his love for that moment has rendered all other avenues of possibility impossible, has fossilized him, sealed him in amber, turned him to stone. Made it possible for him to see only one version of himself. After years of underhanded dealing and shady business, he is wealthy, popular, feared, respected. On West Egg, he hosts

He knew he needed to release her, but once he allowed his physical connection to drop away, he was uncertain if he’d ever have a chance to reconnect. Instinctively, he knew Azami was elusive, like water flowing through fingers, or the wind shifting in the trees. He needed a way to seal her to him. “How does one court a woman in Japan? Do I need your brothers’ permission?” She blinked again. Shocked. A hint of uncertainty crept into her eyes. She frowned, and he bent his head to swallow her protest before she could utter it. Her mouth trembled beneath his, and then she opened to him, like a flower, luring him deeper. Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing tightly against his. He tightened his fingers in her hair. He was burning, through and through, from the inside out, a hot melting of bone and tissue. He hadn’t known he was lonely or even looking for something. He’d been complete. He loved his life. He was a man with teammates he trusted implicitly. He lived in wild places of beauty he enjoyed. He hadn’t considered there would be a woman who could ever fit with him, who would ever turn his insides soft and his body hard. Feel the same way, Azami. He didn’t lift his mouth, kissing her again and again because one he’d made the mistake, he was addicted and what was the use fighting it? Not when it felt so damn right. Somewhere along the line, his kiss went from sheer aggression and command, to absolute tenderness. The emotion for her rose like a volcano, encompassing him entirely, drawn from some part of him he’d never known even existed. His mouth was gentle, his hands on her, possessive, yet just as gentle. Another claiming, this coming from that deep unknown well. Feel the same way, Azami, he whispered into her mind. An enticement. A need. He waited, something in him going still, waiting for her answer.

O thou undaunted daughter of desires! By all thy dower of lights and fires; By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; By all thy lives and deaths of love; By thy large draughts of intellectual day, And by thy thirsts of love more large than they; By all thy brim-filled bowls of fierce desire, By thy last morning’s draught of liquid fire; By the full kingdom of that final kiss That seized thy parting soul, and seal’d thee His; By all the Heav’n thou has in Him (Fair sister of the seraphim!) By all of Him we have in thee; Leave nothing of myself in me. Let me so read thy life, that I Unto all life of mine may die!

Fa!” She gave me a nudge with her shoulder. “You talk as if some lord should come riding down from the keep and carry me off.” I thought of August with his stuffy manners, or Regal simpering at her. “Eda forbid. You’d be wasted on them. They wouldn’t have the wit to understand you, or the heart to appreciate you.” Molly looked down at her work-worn hands. “Who would, then?” she asked softly. Boys are fools. The conversation had grown and twined around us, my words coming as naturally as breathing to me. I had not intended any flattery, or subtle courtship. The sun was beginning to dip into the water, and we sat close by one another and the beach before us was like the world at our feet. If I had said at that moment, “I would, ” I think her heart would have tumbled into my awkward hands like ripe fruit from a tree. I think she might have kissed me, and sealed herself to me of her own free will. But I couldn’t grasp the immensity of what I suddenly knew I had come to feel for her. It drove the simple truth from my lips, and I sat dumb and half a moment later Smithy came, wet and sandy, barreling into us, so that Molly leaped to her feet to save her skirts, and the opportunity was lost forever, blown away like spray on the wind.

Galen doesn’t get truly nervous until he senses the size of the Syrena mass coming toward them. Up until this point, he’d been worried about Emma. What she thought about all this. Her mother’s reunion with Grom. What she planned to do while they were gone. Whether or not she was going to keep her promise and stay out of the water. And…his thoughts keep wandering back to their kiss between the sand dunes. It was an exquisite torture, the way she tasted like a mixture of salt water and herself. A combination of two things he’s come to cherish. Water and land. Syrena world and human world. Love for his kind and love for Emma. Only now, as the party of Syrena approaches, its presence seems to encroach on Galen’s options. For some reason, it feels like a choice between water or land, Syrena world or human world, love for his kind or love for Emma. According to the law, there never was a choice. But that was before Emma. And Galen has the feeling that the time for truly deciding between the two is closing in on him. But haven’t I already made that decision? He steals a glance at Toraf, who’s been wearing the same grim expression since they left Emma’s house. Toraf is never grim. Since they were fingerlings, he’s always had a special talent for finding the positive in a situation, and if not the positive, then he can certainly find mischief in a situation. But not now. Now he’s keeping to himself. Toraf never keeps to himself. Even Grom, the usual sealed-up clam, has become boisterous and enlivened while he and Nalia chatter to each other, laughing and whispering and holding hands, all the while speculating over the events that separated them so long ago. But Toraf seems oblivious to the chatter and to Galen’s internal war of emotions and to the swarm of jellyfish he just narrowly avoided. Galen had thought Toraf might have been anxious about leaving Rayna behind. Usually, though, he comforts himself by talking about her until Galen wishes he’d had a twin brother instead of a twin sister. No, what’s troubling Toraf has nothing to do with leaving Rayna behind. He even persuaded her to stay. Which means he thinks it’s safer for her on land right now. Toraf’s motives are always simple: do what’s best for Rayna, in spite of Rayna.

The gospel is a promise and God’s promises aren’t bound by time. Promises defy time. They bring the future into the present. Promises are a certain way of looking forward. When I promised myself to my wife, I didn’t just bind myself to her in the present. I gave her my future. Without waiting for that future to arrive, without waiting to see what sorrows or joys would come, I promised. Dressed in white, we knelt at an altar in the temple and joined hands. We were terribly young. The mirrors, set face to face, reflected endless futures at which we couldn’t guess. Still, I loved her. I gave her all those futures as a gift. And we kissed. Now, promised to each other and sealed by a holy ordinance, we live as though those futures had already come. Now, in a very real way, our futures are already given as gifts in the present. And, now, we’re empowered by those promises to love each other in the present.

And then she kissed him on the mouth. It was one of those Russian kisses, the sort that are exchanged in that vast, soulful land at high Christian feasts, as a token and seal of love. But even as we record this kiss exchanged between a notoriously “subtle” young man and a charming, slinking, and still equally young woman, we cannot help finding in it a reminder of Dr. Krokowski’s elaborate, if not always unobjectionable way of speaking about love in a gently irresolute sense, so that one was never quite sure whether he meant its sanctified or more passionate and fleshly forms. Are we doing the same thing here, or were Hans Castorp and Clavdia Chauchat doing the same with their Russian kiss? But what would be our readers’ reaction if we simply refused to get to the bottom of that question? In our opinion, it is analytically correct, although—to use Hans Castorp’s phrase—“terribly gauche” and downright life-denying, to make a “tidy” distinction between sanctity and passion in matters of love. What’s this about “tidy”? What’s this about gentle irresolution and ambiguity? Isn’t it grand, isn’t it good, that language has only one word for everything we associate with love – from utter sanctity to the most fleshly lust? The result is perfect clarity in ambiguity, for love cannot be disembodied even in its most sanctified forms, nor is it without sanctity even at its most fleshly. Love is always simply itself, both as a subtle affirmation of life and as the highest passion; love is our sympathy with organic life, the touchingly lustful embrace of what is destined to decay – caritas is assuredly found in the most admirable and most depraved passions. Irresolute? But in God’s good name, leave the meaning of love unresolved! Unresolved – that is life and humanity, and it would betray a dreary lack of subtlety to worry about it.

Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was unlike anything I ever heard. This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell. This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called “The Better ‘Ole” that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, “Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?” “Nah I had to go relieve myself.” After a while the ass start talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: “It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit.” After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpole’s tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous — (did you know there is a condition occurs in parts of Africa and only among Negroes where the little toe amputates spontaneously?) — except for the eyes you dig. Thats one thing the asshole couldn’t do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn’t give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes went out, and there was no more feeling in them than a crab’s eyes on the end of a stalk.

I now pronounce you husband and wife. I hadn’t considered the kiss. Not once. I suppose I’d assumed it would be the way a wedding kiss should be. Restrained. Appropriate. Mild. A nice peck. Save the real kisses for later, when you’re deliciously alone. Country club girls don’t make out in front of others. Like gum chewing, it should always be done in private, where no one else can see. But Marlboro Man wasn’t a country club boy. He’d missed the memo outlining the rules and regulations of proper ways to kiss in public. I found this out when the kiss began--when he wrapped his loving, protective arms around me and kissed me like he meant it right there in my Episcopal church. Right there in front of my family, and his, in front of Father Johnson and Ms. Altar Guild and our wedding party and the entire congregation, half of whom were meeting me for the first time that night. But Marlboro Man didn’t seem to care. He kissed me exactly the way he’d kissed me the night of our first date--the night my high-heeled boot had gotten wedged in a crack in my parents’ sidewalk and had caused me to stumble. The night he’d caught me with his lips. We were making out in church--there was no way around it. And I felt every bit as swept away as I had that first night. The kiss lasted hours, days, weeks…probably ten to twelve seconds in real time, which, in a wedding ceremony setting, is a pretty long kiss. And it might have been longer had the passionate moment not been interrupted by the sudden sound of a person clapping his hands. “Woohoo! All right!” the person shouted. “Yes!” It was Mike. The congregation broke out in laughter as Marlboro Man and I touched our foreheads together, cementing the moment forever in our memory. We were one; this was tangible to me now. It wasn’t just an empty word, a theological concept, wishful thinking. It was an official, you-and-me-against-the-world designation. We’d both left our separateness behind. From that moment forward, nothing either of us did or said or planned would be in a vacuum apart from the other. No holiday would involve our celebrating separately at our respective family homes. No last-minute trips to Mexico with friends, not that either of us was prone to last-minute trips to Mexico with friends. But still. The kiss had sealed the deal in so many ways. I walked proudly out of the church, the new wife of Marlboro Man. When we exited the same doors through which my dad and I had walked thirty minutes earlier, Marlboro Man’s arm wriggled loose from my grasp and instinctively wrapped around my waist, where it belonged. The other arm followed, and before I knew it we were locked in a sweet, solidifying embrace, relishing the instant of solitude before our wedding party--sisters, cousins, brothers, friends--followed closely behind. We were married. I drew a deep, life-giving breath and exhaled. The sweating had finally stopped. And the robust air-conditioning of the church had almost completely dried my lily-white Vera.

She opened her Bible to the poetry of the Song of Solomon, forbidden to her virgin mind. The verses alternated between the bride's and the groom's lines, packed with words of desire of both spirit and body. And then there were the Daughters of Jerusalem, the maidens surrounding the bride, who tempted her to indulge in love before marriage, until she pleaded with them to wait. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem... that you stir not up nor awaken love until it pleases. What did that mean? Set me as a seal on your heart, a seal on your arm. For love is strong as death, passion fierce as Sheol. What exactly were love and passion to be this ardent? Ruthi had no passion for Yossel and his painful yi'chud, so unlike these fervent verses. A cool breeze stroked the needle-fingered leaves of the cypress outside the yard, and Esther's skin prickled with whatever it was that wasn't supposed to be stirred in her yet. May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth- for your love is better than wine. Your anointing oils are fragrant, your name is sweet-smelling oil. So the maidens love you.

I Never Told You You can fill a book with everything I never said Or the lines of a poem Or an Empty pool Or an empty bedroom, the candles all blown out I never told you how the reflection of myself in your eyes Was the only mirror I could bear to look at Or how I fought every day To transfuse the girl I saw there with the girl I am I tried to breathe in the words you made me: beautiful good brave I tried to be them for you even though they were weighted with impossibility I never told you how I always feared the rough edges of myself were too sharp for you and how I fought everyday to blunt them To bring down the walls To let you in without cutting you because I could never bear to hurt you like the others did Every day a fierce pride roared in me I was so lucky to know the truth I was the beneficiary of your radiance I basked in it and felt special And if not for the pain of your solitude I would have been content to be the only one I never told you How your touch made me feel like laughing and crying and singing all at once How your hand passing over my skin where atrocities Had not yet sloughed off, Skin cells remembering the worst touches Was like a tide washing over the ruddy sand And leaving it whole and smooth You made my skin forget Gave me new memories New sensations that didn't drag the shadows from the past In your arms I could start again, Start over. There is no greater gift in all the world Than you to the wreckage that is me... I never told you How I longed to kiss away your every bruise until there was no evidence No ghosts of your own suffering To put your pieces back together Seal the cracks Vanish them like they never were And never, ever Leave a scar I never told you I would take your pain if I could I would drink it down And take my comfort In making you ache a little less For a little while Did I? I'll never know because I never told you that I loved you I love you I love you It's too lat to say it now The time has passed for words How pathetic and small and weak On the phone Or on a piece of paper Starving Without the force of my own vitality My voice My breath My blood singing n my veins for you To give them power They are lost I love you It's too late but I love you And I'm sorry I never told you.

Her hands glided down his body and landed on his cock. Yes. Ramón cupped her face and kissed her again. Julieta pulled away and dropped to her knees in front of him. "Yeah, baby." Her hands squeezed his ass, and she pulled down his pants and his boxer briefs. Ramón had been fantasizing about this since he'd met her. He was already so hard. He couldn't wait to feel her mouth around him. She kissed around the base of his cock and licked the tip. "Stop teasing me." She licked down his length and spat on her hand before she grasped him. Ah, that felt so good. A few more kisses on the head, and he was dying with anticipation. She finally took him in her mouth. He exhaled, enjoying the moment of pleasure. Having her eyes locked on his was almost enough to send him over the edge. Her mouth was so hot. The pressure built in his balls. "That's it, baby. Don't stop. Just like that." Her head bobbed up and down, taking him deep. She created a seal with her lips. Ramón took control. He held her right where he wanted as he fucked her mouth. He thrust deeper. He was right on the edge. "I'm going to come, baby." He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. She sucked him so hard, so deep. He finally let go, and she swallowed.

whenever two people kiss the world is born, a drop of light with guts of transparency the room like a fruit splits and begins to open or burst like a star among the silences and all laws now rat-gnawed and eaten away, barred windows of banks and penitentiaries, the bars of paper, and the barbed-wire fences, the stamps and the seals, the sharp prongs and the spurs, the one-note sermon of the bombs and wars, the gentle scorpion in his cap and gown, the tiger who is the president of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty and the Red Cross, the pedagogical ass, and the crocodile set up as saviour, father of his country, the founder, the leader, the shark, the architect of the future of us all, the hog in uniform, and then that one, the favourite son of the Church who can be seen brushing his black teeth in holy water and taking evening courses in English and democracy, the invisible barriers, the mad and decaying masks that are used to separate us, man from man, and man from his own self they are thrown down for an enormous instant and we see darkly our own lost unity, how vulnerable it is to be women and men, the glory it is to be man and share our bread and share our sun and our death, the dark forgotten marvel of being alive;

Tell me again why we’ve hated each other all these years?” “Because we’re both stubborn as mules?” he offers. I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’d say that about covers it.” “I love you, Jemma. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to feel the same. I’ll wait forever if I have to.” I suck in a breath. He doesn’t know. How would he? He’s said it to me, but I’ve never once said it back. “Trust me, you had me at ‘prettiest girl in all of Magnolia Branch,’ and then you sealed the deal with that whole ‘best shot’ thing.” “Wait…Are you saying…I mean--” “Shhh.” I put my finger against his lips. “Though you’re really cute when you’re stuttering like that.” “Hey, I don’t stutter.” “Neither do I. I love you, Ryder Marsden. See?” I rise up on tiptoe and press my lips against his. His arms encircle my waist, drawing me closer, till there’s no space whatsoever between our bodies, till I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. His mouth moves against mine, and he kisses me hungrily. Thoroughly. Expertly. And so very hotly. This kiss is somehow different from the ones that have come before it. It’s a promise that he is mine, that I am his. It’s an acceptance of our fate. It’s the ultimate acknowledgement of something that’s been there all along, just waiting for us to discover it. To enjoy it. To celebrate it. So we do.

I’m so sorry,” he said between kisses. “For what I said that night. For leaving you earlier. I never meant-“ “I know,” she whispered, wrapping a leg over his lip and shinnying up his body. Her lips grazed his ear. “I know. Just don’t leave me again.” “Never.” The word burst out like an oath or a prayer, and God help him, he meant it. “Never,” he repeated, looking straight into her glimmering eyes. Then he sealed the vow with a kiss, deep and desperate and true. “Oh God,” he groaned when their lips finally parted. She kissed him again, working her warm, slender fingers under the collar of his shirt to stroke the chilled flesh of his shoulders and back. He buries his face in her neck, inhaling the beautiful scent of her. He’d forgotten how roses smell sweetest after a rain. Trailing light kisses down to her collarbone, he began carrying her toward the bed. “Make love to me, Gray.” She didn’t need to ask. They both knew what was going to happen. But Gray felt the significance of her words. He might have bedded ladies and whores the world over, but for the first time in his life, he was going to make love to a woman. And not just a woman. His woman. And this idea that should have been so unthinkable, so frightening-to his surprise, Gray found it wildly arousing. They tumbled together onto the narrow bed, and she began pulling his shirt free of his trousers. He rose up on his knees and impatiently yanked it over his head. He peered at her frock in the darkness. Bloody hell. Stripes. Gray started to roll her over, looking for laces or hooks or some other ridiculous device contrived by the devil to thwart men.

Are you ready, children?” Father Mikhail walked through the church. “Did I keep you waiting?” He took his place in front of them at the altar. The jeweler and Sofia stood nearby. Tatiana thought they might have already finished that bottle of vodka. Father Mikhail smiled. “Your birthday today,” he said to Tatiana. “Nice birthday present for you, no?” She pressed into Alexander. “Sometimes I feel that my powers are limited by the absence of God in the lives of men during these trying times,” Father Mikhail began. “But God is still present in my church, and I can see He is present in you. I am very glad you came to me, children. Your union is meant by God for your mutual joy, for the help and comfort you give one another in prosperity and adversity and, when it is God’s will, for the procreation of children. I want to send you righteously on your way through life. Are you ready to commit yourselves to each other?” “We are,” they said. “The bond and the covenant of marriage was established by God in creation. Christ himself adorned this manner of life by his first miracle at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. A marriage is a symbol of the mystery of the union between Christ and His Church. Do you understand that those whom God has joined together, no man can put asunder?” “We do,” they said. “Do you have the rings?” “We do.” Father Mikhail continued. “Most gracious God,” he said, holding the cross above their heads, “look with favor upon this man and this woman living in a world for which Your Son gave His life. Make their life together a sign of Christ’s love to this sinful and broken world. Defend this man and this woman from every enemy. Lead them into peace. Let their love for each other be a seal upon their hearts, a mantle upon their shoulders, and a crown upon their foreheads. Bless them in their work and in their friendship, in their sleeping and in their waking, in their joys and their sorrows, in their life and in their death.” Tears trickled down Tatiana’s face. She hoped Alexander wouldn’t notice. Father Mikhail certainly had. Turning to Tatiana and taking her hands, Alexander smiled, beaming at her unrestrained happiness. Outside, on the steps of the church, he lifted her off the ground and swung her around as they kissed ecstatically. The jeweler and Sofia clapped apathetically, already down the steps and on the street. “Don’t hug her so tight. You’ll squeeze that child right out of her,” said Sofia to Alexander as she turned around and lifted her clunky camera. “Oh, wait. Hold on. Let me take a picture of the newlyweds.” She clicked once. Twice. “Come to me next week. Maybe I’ll have some paper by then to develop them.” She waved. “So you still think the registry office judge should have married us?” Alexander grinned. “He with his ‘of sound mind’ philosophy on marriage?” Tatiana shook her head. “You were so right. This was perfect. How did you know this all along?” “Because you and I were brought together by God,” Alexander replied. “This was our way of thanking Him.” Tatiana chuckled. “Do you know it took us less time to get married than to make love the first time?” “Much less,” Alexander said, swinging her around in the air. “Besides, getting married is the easy part. Just like making love. It was the getting you to make love to me that was hard. It was the getting you to marry me…” “I’m sorry. I was so nervous.” “I know,” he said. He still hadn’t put her down. “I thought the chances were twenty-eighty you were actually going to go through with it.” “Twenty against?” “Twenty for.” “Got to have a little more faith, my husband,” said Tatiana, kissing his lips.

His mouth brushed over hers with kisses of soft fire. And as he possessed her, she gradually came to understand the pattern he was working within her… eight shallow thrusts, two deep… seven shallow, three deep… progressing until he finally gave her ten heavy, penetrating plunges. Lottie cried out with wrenching pleasure, her hips lifting against his sleek weight as she was filled with volatile sensation. When the burning delight had begun to fade, Nick altered their positions subtly, moving farther over her, nudging her knees wider, adjusting the angle of his sex. He thrust deeply, sealing their bodies together, and circled his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. “I can’t,” Lottie said breathlessly, realizing what he wanted, knowing that it was impossible. “Let me,” Nick whispered, tireless and wickedly adept as he continued the gentle circling, using his body to pleasure her. She was astonished by how quickly the heat rose again, her senses welcoming the patient stimulation, her sex turning slick and swollen as he moved inside her, over her, against her. “Oh… oh…” The sounds were torn from her throat as she reached another crest, her limbs jerking, her cheek pressed hard against his shoulder. And then he began the entire cycle again. Nine shallow, one deep… Lottie lost count of how many times he brought her to ecstasy, or how much time passed while he made love to her. He whispered in her ear… endearments… intimate praise… telling her how hard she made him… how sweet she felt around him… how much he wanted to satisfy her. He gave her more pleasure than it seemed possible to bear, until finally she begged him to stop, her body trembling with exhaustion. Nick complied with reluctance, pushing deep inside one last time, releasing his pent-up desire with a shuddering groan. Compulsively he kissed her again, as he withdrew from her sated body. Lottie barely had the strength to lift her hand, but she caught at his arm and murmured thickly, “Will you stay?” “Yes,” she heard him say. “Yes.” -Lottie & Nick

Knowing Chris was getting married, his fellow Team members decided that they had to send him off with a proper SEAL bachelor party. That meant getting him drunk, of course. It also meant writing all over him with permanent markers-an indelible celebration, to be sure. Fortunately, they liked him, so his face wasn’t marked up-not by them, at least; he’d torn his eyebrow and scratched his lip during training. Under his clothes, he looked quite the sight. And the words wouldn’t come off no matter how he, or I scrubbed. I pretended to be horrified, but honestly, that didn’t bother me much. I was just happy to have him with me, and very excited to be spending the rest of my life with the man I loved. It’s funny, the things you get obsessed about. Days before the wedding, I spent forty-five minutes picking out exactly the right shape of lipstick, splurging on expensive cosmetics-then forgot to take it with me the morning of the wedding. My poor sister and mom had to run to Walgreens for a substitute; they came back with five different shades, not one of which matched the one I’d picked out. Did it matter? Not at all, although I still remember the vivid marks the lipstick made when I kissed him on the cheek-marking my man. Lipstick, location, time of day-none of that mattered in the end. What did matter were our families and friends, who came in for the ceremony. Chris liked my parents, and vice versa. I truly loved his mom and dad. I have a photo from that day taped near my work area. My aunt took it. It’s become my favorite picture, an accidental shot that captured us perfectly. We stand together, beaming, with an American flag in the background. Chris is handsome and beaming; I’m beaming at him, practically glowing in my white gown. We look so young, happy, and unworried about what was to come. It’s that courage about facing the unknown, the unshakable confidence that we’d do it together, that makes the picture so precious to me. It’s a quality many wedding photos possess. Most couples struggle to make those visions realities. We would have our struggles as well.

Katie informed us that there was a life ever after, a place called Heaven or Eternal Rest where there was no pain or suffering. She forewarned him of his death and his Alzheimer Disease disappeared. He saw a fast rewind replay of his life and he regained his sanity on his deathbed he got an opportunity to say thanks for everything and goodbye to his loved ones. His gift to Emma was a kiss sealing the gift of a ghost whisperer to Emma so he will never abandon her or the kids. They will communicate forever. He will help her through this life and return watching over her and navigate a path for her into the next life, Heaven

Facing the couple, Cardinal Fitzroy said, “My dear friends, you have come together in this place so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Church’s minister and this gathering of friends. Christ abundantly blesses this love. Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your hands, and declare your consent. Byron, do you take Jean to be your wife, to be true to her in good times and bad, to love and honor her in all the days of your life?” “I do,” he said. Jean made the same promises to Byron. Knowing that standing was still a challenge for the groom, Fitzroy had kept things short and cut to the quick. He said, “You have both declared your consent. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with His blessings. Frank stepped forward and handed a ring to Byron. In a clear, evenly paced voice, the groom put the ring on Jean’s finger, saying, “Jean, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.” Frank gave his sister a second ring. She placed it on her groom’s finger. “Byron, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.” Fitzroy concluded, “Lord, grant that those who wear these rings may always have a deep faith in each other. May they always live together in peace, good will and love.” Beaming now, the Cardinal added, “And as we in the Church are wont to say, ‘Amen.’ Kiss your beautiful wife, lad.

After a week of moping around London like a sick dog, I decided that the only cure for my humiliating disease was to see you in the flesh and prove that nothing uncanny had taken place when I saw that miniature.” “And what happened?” she asked, praying for him to say he hadn’t been disappointed. He’d spoken lightly of falling in love, but he was yet to say the words that every inch of her soul longed to hear. He gave her that smile that always made her silly. “You know precisely what happened. Miss Flora opened the door, and my fate was sealed.” “Oh,” she said, too stirred up to summon anything more meaningful. “Straightaway I saw the qualities I’d observed in the picture, the qualities your father had described. They were all there in the lassie who tried to leave me out in the rain.” “So you thought you’d found the perfect wife.” He burst out laughing and caught her hand. “My darling Charlotte, you’re bonny, but nobody in their right mind would call you a perfect wife.” “Is that so?” she asked in a dangerous voice. “I’ll have you know that—” Her scolding ended in a gasp as he lunged forward and tumbled her back against the rumpled bedding. “Now, before you fly up into the boughs, let me finish. You’re an impatient wee lass, my love.” She regarded him with sulky displeasure, even as happiness flowed through her veins, turning the cold night to bright summer. The sheet separated their bodies, but she could feel that, like her, he was becoming interested in more than conversation. However fascinating. “It had better be good.” “It is.” He kissed her with a thoroughness that stole her breath. When he raised his head, they were both panting. “I don’t want perfection, Charlotte. I want a wife who will stand up to me, and make me crazy with wanting her, and set me laughing with joy, and turn every day into an adventure. I doubt we’ll lead a quiet life, but by God, it will be interesting and worthwhile, and purposeful and passionate.” “And

She would love to think he was reluctant to leave her, but she realized he was waiting to make sure she got safely into the house before he drove away. Zane might be the most frustrating man on earth, a paradox she couldn't figure out, but he was the type of guy to make sure a woman was safe before he left her in the dark. Just as he was the type of man who'd chosen the best knife for her to carry to Nigeria. He was also the type to kiss a woman breathless and leave her alone and confused. With a sigh, she turned and made her way to the front door, digging for her key as she went. One sleepless night pondering Zane and this odd day definitely wouldn't be enough to figure out the mystery of the man. But, it would be a start...

Why did dinner at the Watson’s have his insides turning upside down and then back up again? Gads. And ‘twas as if his fingers were the size of potatoes from the way he had to keep fussing with his cravat that refused to tie properly. He glanced at the clock on the dresser again before fastidiously fastening his hair behind his head for the tenth time. They would be expecting him within the hour.  Sighing, he shook his head. The kiss he’d almost shared with Kitty yesterday had robbed every thought since. The nervous excitement that circled his limbs kept every muscle weightless and somehow simultaneously heavy. He pushed out a quick breath and stepped back from the mirror to assess his appearance from a distance. Well, not the picture of masculine perfection that he’d like, but it would do. He always seemed to receive the greatest amount of smiles from passing ladies when he wore this navy suit, so perhaps Kitty would... Blast! He spun for the door and started down the stairs as the bothersome thoughts continued to tickle his mind. Had she wanted it too? The kiss? It seemed so. Thankfully she’d been the stronger one and moved away before their fate was sealed. For surely if he had kissed her, it would have been the end of him. Snatching

I now pronounce you husband and wife. I hadn’t considered the kiss. Not once. I suppose I’d assumed it would be the way a wedding kiss should be. Restrained. Appropriate. Mild. A nice peck. Save the real kisses for later, when you’re deliciously alone. Country club girls don’t make out in front of others. Like gum chewing, it should always be done in private, where no one else can see. But Marlboro Man wasn’t a country club boy. He’d missed the memo outlining the rules and regulations of proper ways to kiss in public. I found this out when the kiss began--when he wrapped his loving, protective arms around me and kissed me like he meant it right there in my Episcopal church. Right there in front of my family, and his, in front of Father Johnson and Ms. Altar Guild and our wedding party and the entire congregation, half of whom were meeting me for the first time that night. But Marlboro Man didn’t seem to care. He kissed me exactly the way he’d kissed me the night of our first date--the night my high-heeled boot had gotten wedged in a crack in my parents’ sidewalk and had caused me to stumble. The night he’d caught me with his lips. We were making out in church--there was no way around it. And I felt every bit as swept away as I had that first night. The kiss lasted hours, days, weeks…probably ten to twelve seconds in real time, which, in a wedding ceremony setting, is a pretty long kiss. And it might have been longer had the passionate moment not been interrupted by the sudden sound of a person clapping his hands. “Woohoo! All right!” the person shouted. “Yes!” It was Mike. The congregation broke out in laughter as Marlboro Man and I touched our foreheads together, cementing the moment forever in our memory. We were one; this was tangible to me now. It wasn’t just an empty word, a theological concept, wishful thinking. It was an official, you-and-me-against-the-world designation. We’d both left our separateness behind. From that moment forward, nothing either of us did or said or planned would be in a vacuum apart from the other. No holiday would involve our celebrating separately at our respective family homes. No last-minute trips to Mexico with friends, not that either of us was prone to last-minute trips to Mexico with friends. But still. The kiss had sealed the deal in so many ways.

We always hugged when it was time to leave and he always sealed it with a forehead kiss. One day, I jokingly said, “When we finally kiss, I want it to be fireworks”. We giggled about it and let it pass. Some weeks later, he suddenly grew distant and seemed restricted from holding my hands; there were more days of uncomfortable laughter as I tried to figure out what the issue was but he seemed more evasive. Until one day, he quietly said to me “Fireworks only happen at Christmas, it is just difficult to wait till then”. Then I smiled and said,” I want to feel fireworks anytime, I don’t necessarily have to see it

Red wine and Hennessy She fell out of her bottle when she fell into love, cup running over, overflowing emotions in glass- red stained palet, on a pallet on the grass, to a quilt on the floor -affixed between lips and red lipstick on a shirt that he wore. A familiar place, she know she's been here before Reminiscent of the evening On his shirt that she tore ............ Drop by drop, puddle in glass getting lower- impressions in her gut, rim of her glass, hour glass figure moves counter clockwise - while absorbing the contents of merlot. Hard liquor and fine wine ............. Red Wine and Hennessy A wicked twist on some champagne tips French nails, manicures over grapes Whoever said wine and liquor don't mix? Last night I had six Bottle caps, corks, bedazzled juice Merlot was her name - slim waist - good taste slinger neck, red lace. Long stem, pedestal - hands embraced her face ............. room temperature, her body temperature ... personality of two, she's mellow and chill... aged to perfection- pop the seal- watch the erection ... splatters on the floor- covers the rug, Residue of red lipstick- Merlot stained lips match the kiss on his neck ............ Chasing fantasy through the Red Sea While chasing that with a white BC How much will she pour- how much will she drink How much more before her ship sinks ........... A full body lush, blackberry crush Medium sized Bordeaux Intense velvety plum I asked her where she's from She said she's international She's longer thinking rational .......... Sips in sync with blinking eyes She sips too much to realize Every time you pour into me, my bottle gets more empty- Glass falling to the floor She staggers to the door Glass shatters her feet She stumbles to her seat She's still asking for more But she falls to the floor Red lipstick in the mud She covers up the blood ............ She lays in her wine She forgot about the time Clock on the wall Footsteps in the hall Pounding in her head She rushes to the bed ......... She lays motionless ... but her head is racing Her heart is pacing Her lungs are gasping - air, she needs air Rolls to her side, brings her self to sit up She gags and gags until She throws it all up- ........... Wakes up the next morning Dazed and confused She's laying in a bed That she's not used to She moves slowly, where did everyone go? She checks the time- it's a quarter pass 4 sounds on the other side of the door Are Muffled by the sound of a knock at the door ........... Looks around for her little red dress Notices a blotch - a red stain on her breast Lipstick smeared an accessory to her mess She reached for her clothes and saw a note on the desk. .......... Dearly beloved, I want to see you again I'd love to have to back I think we make a great blend I tried to wake you Because I had to go And Oh by the way, my name is merlot "Little Black Bird

Your love makes me stronger,” I admit, and her lips form a small o, and her chest starts to rise and fall wildly. “You’re intoxicating, Una, and I want to share all of this with you. The moments I hold on to the most are the ones with you in them. I love you.” A tear trickles down her face. “Wow,” she says through a half sob, half laugh. “Seal with a kiss,” she tells me. My chest tightens, but I don’t hesitate. I seal our love with a kiss that reaches inside me and heals some dark part of me that had me keeping Una away.

Dorothy used to love email, used to have long, meaningful, occasionally thrilling email correspondences that involved the testing of ideas and the exchange of videos and music links. Email had been the way that she and the people she knew or was getting to know had crafted personas, narrated events, made sense of their lives. That way of life, alas, had ended. Long emails had ceased being the preferred mode of storytelling among her peers, or perhaps they no longer had so much to say to one another, and emails, though sealed with perfunctory hugs and kisses, had become businesslike. Sending a thoughtful email that she had drafted over several days and edited would, she knew, be a form of aggression; it would be foisting unpaid labor, a homework assignment, on a friend.

He crushes his lips to mine in a kiss filled with all the love, passion, and promises we’ve made to each other. It’s everything we didn’t have at our first ceremony—it’s slow and deep, sealing our vows and binding us together in a way that feels stronger than ever.

He placed the long, gold chain over her head. Then he held the turquoise between his fingers. "This is where it belongs. With you, Always." With tears in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn't just a thank-you for finding her treasured memento, but something deeper, more heartfelt, and he realized this wasn't a thank-you at all. He felt the same wolfish need, the same lustful attraction and, he was fairly certain, the same desire to take this further. He was torn between ending the kiss and wanting to prolong it, while she wrapped one leg around his, anchoring herself to him, her body moving against his in the gently ripples of the lake, up and down. Despite the wet suit and her bathing suit between them, he felt his erection rising to the occasion again. Of course, all he really needed was to see her in that bathing suit, her nipples standing out against the stretchy suite, to make his cock stir. With her body moving against his in such an erotic way, he was suffering. Their tongues were doing a slow slide together, back and around, as he kept one hand against her naked back and the other cupping her head for maximum kissing pleasure. The sun shone off the water, the heat of their bodies keeping them warm. He sure loved kissing her like this and felt like one hot SEAL wolf wrapped around a wolfish mermaid.

I don't want to be married because it's convenient, or because it's the right thing to do for bloody Duntarvie Estate." "I couldn't give a shit about Duntarvie Estate. I want to marry you because I love you." This came out as almost a shout. Roderick looked at her, furious. "Fine." Kate snapped back at him, irritated. "Fine." He turned away from her, picking up the axe again. "Right. That's that sorted." "Right.

Did you get Ahmed’s man?” “Yeah,” he said, regret filling the tone of his voice. “But if I had to do it over again, I would’ve stayed behind.” She ran her hand over his chest, hoping to comfort him some small amount. “Thank you for telling me.” “So you were wasting your time in Virginia Beach.” “No, I wasn’t, and there’s one thing I’ll never be sorry for.” “What’s that?” “Kissing you.” There’d been nothing fake or pretend about how much she’d wanted him then, how much she wanted him now. “For your sake, for both of us, I had to leave before either of us had gotten in too deep.” “Well, you were about two weeks and six days too late for that, Red. I was in too deep the first night I met you.” His eyes darkened as he reached out to cup her cheek and run the pad of his thumb over her upper lip. “That makes two of us.” She closed her eyes and kissed the palm of his hand. He groaned. “Virginia Beach was almost perfect.” “Almost?” He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. “I wish I’d made love to you.” What if neither of them made out of Mogadishu alive? Could she leave this world without regrets? No. Not yet. There was one thing she still needed to do. Wrapping her arms around Nate’s neck, she pulled him toward her and kissed him, whispering, “Better late than never.

Well, HALLELUJAH! FOUR letters - ranging from April 28th to May 27th - came home today and the world looks much different. One was sealed with a kiss, one was sealed with a Big kiss, one was sealed with a peck (?), and one was just sealed, which means I got spit on.

Well of Souls Jacob lifted the cumbrous rock and drank from the well of souls. His thirst slaked not by its waters but by the quenching lips of Rachel who served him adoringly beside the well. Theirs was a kiss primeval, numinous, sacred, a watershed by which to measure all others. Jacob could not contain his love and wept, his tears droppinginto the well of souls who dared answer his every tear with their own. Jacob sealed the well forever but this time ~ it was Rachel who wept.

You’re thinking too hard,” she admonished. “I can see it in your face. And you need to stop. It was just a kiss.” But her kisses turned him on like nothing else in the world. Once she got a glimpse of the scrubs she would know too. It had been a long time since he’d held her, kissed her, loved her. His body knew that release was inches away. They just had a lot of issues. Cat narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re still thinking too hard.” He barked out a laugh. “Probably,” he admitted. “But it’s the way I am.” She nodded and smiled. “But you don’t have to be.” Harper

They fell silent, sitting side by side, until Anna felt the earl’s hand steal over hers to rest there. “Today, I am going to call you Anna, and you are going to permit me to do so, please? We will be congenial with each other and forget I am the earl and you are my housekeeper. We will enjoy a pleasant morning in the country, Anna, with none of your frowning and scolding. This is agreeable to you?” “We will share a lovely morning in the country,” Anna agreed, wanting nothing so much as to start that morning by letting her head rest against his shoulder. It was a wicked impulse and would give him all the wrong ideas. “And seal our agreement”—the earl shifted to stand before her—“with a kiss.” He gave her time to wiggle off the hook, to hop down off the stile and dash past him, to deliver a little lecture even, but she sat, still as a mouse, while he framed her face with his bare hands and brought his lips to hers. He propped one booted foot on the stile and leaned over her as his mouth settled fully over hers. While

I give you my word, Prophet, I'll heed the warning. Don't worry-it's only one day." "Yes, but this will be the longest separation we've faced since our wedding." Kien chuckled. "Poor love. Again, don't worry. I'll think of you every other instant." He sealed his pledge with kisses, coaxing Ela to set aside her fears and lose herself in his embrace.

Yes, I am. I’m crazy about you,” she said. She kissed him then, sealing a promise. No matter what tomorrow brought, she’d always love him.

I understand completely. I love you, Alex, more than I ever could have hoped. I had kind of reached the point where I didn’t expect this kind of relationship in my life, but I don’t think I will be able to let you go now. So you’d better put on your seatbelt and strap in, because I want you to marry me.” She barked out a laugh and rocked back to look at him. “Are you serious?” He nodded, and though it had been spur of the moment, the rightness of it settled into his bones like it was supposed to be there. “I am, absolutely and completely. I didn’t plan on asking you here and now, but there it is. So, what do you think? Can you put up with a grumpy old man who doesn’t need a cane any more?” She laughed and leaned in to wrap her arms around his neck. “Yes, I definitely think I can do that. I love you, Duncan. I’ve loved you for so long and I would be thrilled to marry you. And we’ll have kids, too. Later on down the road.” They kissed to seal the words to their hearts, and it was the most amazing feeling Duncan had ever experienced.

I wanted to be a spy,” Olga said, shrugging. “I applied to the CIA. I was turned down. I did not meet the psychological profile. Oppositional Defiance Disorder. Basically, I have a hard time taking orders from idiots.” “Don’t think of me as an idiot and I won’t give you an idiotic order,” Sophia said. “But if I give you one, you’d better do it. Because it’s probably going to mean surviving or dying.” “You I don’t mind,” Olga said. “Or I wouldn’t have joined your crew. Don’t ask me about Nazar. So I was in Spain with the troupe. When the Plague hit, they shut down travel. And all my guns were in America. In a zombie apocalypse. I was quite upset.” “You should have seen Faith when they told her she had to be disarmed in New York,” Sophia said. “Then they gave her a taser and that was mistake. What kind of guns?” “I like that your family prefers the AK series,” Olga said. “I really do think it’s superior to the M16 series in many ways. Much more reliable. They say it is less accurate but that is at longer ranges. The round is not designed for long range.” “I can hit at a thousand meters with my accurized AK,” Sophia said. “It’s a matter of knowing the ballistics. It’s not real powerful at that range, but try doing the same thing with an M4. I’ll wait.” “Oh, jeeze, you two,” Paula said. “Get a room.” “So continue with how you got on the yacht,” Sophia said. “We don’t want our cook getting all woozy with gun geeking.” “We were called by the agency and asked if anyone wanted to ‘catch a ride’ on a yacht,” Olga said. “When they said who owned the boat… I nearly said no. We all knew Nazar. Or at least of him. Not a nice man, as you might have noticed. We knew what we were getting into. But then we were told he had vaccine… ” she shrugged again. “Accepting Nazar’s offer was perhaps not the worst decision I have made in my life. I survived. Not how I would have preferred to survive, but I was vaccinated and I survived. But I did not even hint that I knew more about his men’s weapons than they did. They were pigs. Tough guys. But none of them were military and none of them really knew what they were doing with them. When they brought out the RPG, I nearly peed myself. Irinei had no idea what he was doing with it. I don’t think he even knew the safety was off.” “You know how to use an RPG?” Sophia said. “My family liked the United States very much,” Olga said, sadly. “We all like guns and anything that goes boom. And in the US, you could find people who had licenses for anything. I’ve fired an RPG, yes.” “Well, if we find an RPG you can have it,” Sophia said. “Oh, thank you, captain!” Olga said, clapping her hands girlishly. “But we’ll be keeping the rounds and the launcher separate,” Sophia said. “Oh, my, yes,” Olga said. “And both will have to be in a well sealed container. This salt air would cause corrosion quickly.” “I guess you miss your guns?” Paula said. “That’s not a request for an inventory and loving description of each, by the way. Got that enough from Faith.” “I do,” Olga said. “But I miss my books more.” “Books,” Paula said. “Now you’re talking my language.” “I have more books than shelves,” Olga said. “And I had many shelves. I collect old manuscripts when I can afford them.” “If we do any land clearance, look in the libraries and big houses,” Sophia said. “I bet around here you can probably pick up some great stuff.” “This is okay?” Olga said. “We can, salvage?” “If there’s time and if we clear the town,” Sophia said. “Sure.” “Oh, thank you, captain!” Olga said, kissing her on the cheek. “Okay, now you definitely need to get a room.

When their kiss sealed their vows, April's heart swell, and she thought it couldn't hold all the love she felt at this moment.

If Only We Could Be Together If only Linus and I could walk downtown on Thursday nights when musicians play on the street corners and art galleries serve crackers and cheese. If only we could dance on the sidewalk, look up at the sequined sky, and wish upon the same shooting star. If only Linus could teach me chords on his guitar, reach around to adjust my fingers and help me strum. If only we could sing about autumn mist and sealing wax, hear out voices mingle, and stir the air as one, And by being with Linus I;d figure it out. I'd learn what love it. If only Linus would kiss me, touch the skin under my shirt, press his fingers to my ribs, and feel my beating heart. Then I'd know. I know I'd know. I'd know I was in love.

I love you, Harper.” His hands reached up but he only cupped her hips, letting her continue on her journey. She pressed a kiss to the scar across his right deltoid, an old injury from one of his first deployments, then his left collarbone, broken on a training trip to California. Then, moving carefully, she pressed kisses to the new scar still healing on his chest. That one had been too close to taking his life. Thank goodness he had been able to receive medical care as quickly as he did. Cat moved down Harper’s muscled abs and the slim line of black hair there. “I think everything about you is beautiful.” He puffed out a little laugh but she looked up at him with reproach. “I do. Your body is superb, even wounded. It always has been. That’s why I always have to beat the nurses off you.” She flashed him a grin. “Your mind is devious and brilliant, but I love that. The loyalty to your family and your men is humbling.” She stroked a finger over the tattoo that echoed those sentiments on his right pectoral. “Your unfailing courage in the face of everything that has happened is astounding. I know whatever we have to face you will conquer with that same indomitable, dogged, Navy SEAL will. And your heart,” she moved back up his chest to press a kiss to his sternum, “your heart is more loving and willing to try than I ever could have hoped. We’re going to put our family back together,” she promised. Harper stared up at her for several long seconds before he closed his eyes, but not before she’d seen the shine of moisture in their depths. He pulled her down on top of him, burying his face into her neck. “You are every bit the woman you’ve always been, calm and understanding, willing to put up with my shit. And I have to tell you. All of those things you see in me? I wouldn’t be any of them without you. And I mean that. You’ve supported me through everything. You flew across the country to be at my bedside even though you didn’t know the kind of reaction you’d receive. It amazes me that you would take that chance. But I’m so glad you did. I love you, Catherine Marie Preston. I always have.” She flashed a smile at the use of her full name. “And I love you, Harper Broderick Preston. I always will.” They

Cat woke to giggles and a jiggling bed. “Mom,” Tate singsonged. She cracked an eye open, smiling. “Hey, little man.” Then her eyes widened. Both kids and Harper were standing over her. They were all grinning and Harper held a wooden tray with food on it. Cat pushed herself upright in the bed, glad she’d slipped on a t-shirt at some point. “What’s going on?” “We made you breakfast,” Dillon told her. Cat’s brows lifted in surprise. “Really?” The more amazing thing was that Dillon was grinning up at Harper like she used to. Cat met Harper’s gaze and he gave her a little nod. Huh. There was a story there she’d have to get later. Cat dug into her dubious breakfast but loved every minute of it because her family surrounded her, looking on with fun and enjoyment. For a moment her eyes filled with tears as she looked at their dear faces. “I love all you guys,” she told them softly. Harper leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Hey, Mom? If you love me can I have your last piece of bacon?” She pulled back, laughing. “Yes, my little dispose-all, you can have my last piece of bacon.

But when I married you I knew there was a chance that something could happen. Did I expect a normal life? Hell, no. You were a Navy SEAL, one of the most elite fighting machines in the country. I knew when the government called you were gone.” She choked out a laugh. “What woman would sign up for that craziness?” She heaved a great sigh and leaned against his back. “A woman who loved her fierce, dedicated warrior and knew his country would always take precedence over his family.” He shifted as if to argue but she rocked her head against him. “But the problem is, even after you left it was still taking precedence. I know you were worried about retribution because of what you had done over there, but the chances of that actually happening are so slim. And I realize that going from running a million miles a minute, saving people, shooting guns to suburban home life is a devastating change. I had hoped that the training job would be a good transition between the two, but it didn’t seem to even have a bearing.” “It did have a bearing,” he disagreed. “I had started to slow down. But you’re right. It’s so hard turning off the war machine. Over there you expect to be shot at. You expect to lose your best friends. When you sit in the dirt to talk to a guy and watch his head explode in front of you, it’s hard not to be that way.” Tears flooded her eyes and ran down her cheeks at the harsh visual, but Harper just breathed through it. Cat tightened her arms around his back, hoping her presence could help him in some small way. “I’m sorry.” He turned to look at her. “I’m not telling you this for sympathy. I just wanted you to understand how drastically different our lives were. I had to find a way to adapt to all those changes. Dr. Singh is helping me do that. And I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m amazed at all you’ve had to put up with and humbled that you’re willing to put up with more. For a while there I wondered if just letting you go wouldn’t be better for everyone.” “It wouldn’t,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest. “You are a part of us. We can’t let you go like that.” His

What happened?” Harper swallowed, unsure what to tell his daughter. What had Cat told her? “I was shot a couple of weeks ago.” Her eyes flashed to his as if to see if he were telling the truth. “Seriously?” He nodded. “But I’m okay. No big deal,” he assured her. She shook her head, stepping closer. Her hand lifted as if she wanted to touch the wound but she stopped. “Does it still hurt?” “Not much. I’m kind of used to it.” Crossing her arms, she looked up at him, considering. “Mom told me you had been hurt but she didn’t say how or why. I thought she was lying to me again.” Harper winced. “She wasn’t lying. I was shot in the chest and I was hit by glass when my scope was hit. I lost the vision in my right eye.” He rubbed at the scars on his face a little self-consciously. She blinked. “Isn’t that your shooting eye?” Harper looked at her, considering. Damn, she was sharp. “Yes, it is. I’m going to have to teach myself to shoot again. I don’t really shoot much at work, but it’s a skill I need to keep.” Dillon shook her head again, her expression forlorn. “Where do you work now? Mom didn’t know. And we haven’t heard from you in so long. It was like you disappeared off the earth. And now you’re hurt.” Tears filled her eyes again and one slipped down her cheek. She swiped it away angrily, but more began to follow. “Oh, honey.” Harper dared to take a step toward her, heartened when she didn’t bolt. “I’m okay. I really am. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you. Believe it or not I’ve missed you too—I just didn’t feel like I could be at home with you for a while. Not because of anything you did, but because of things that were going on in my head. I had to get them straightened out so that I could be with you guys.” Dillon didn’t look like she believed him, but at least she was listening. “I swear to you I wanted to come home, but I couldn’t risk you guys. In my old job with the SEALs I had to go to war in bad places.” “Afghanistan?” He stopped, surprised. But then, why was he surprised? Dillon was damn smart. “Yes. I was there for a good while. And a bunch of other places. And when you get used to doing something, like fighting in a war, it’s hard to change when you come home. I had problems getting used to not fighting. Do you understand?” She nodded, arms still wrapped around herself. “So rather than run the chance of maybe waking up one night and hurting you guys I moved out. It wasn’t because your mom and I had problems, it wasn’t because I didn’t love you and it definitely wasn’t because of anything you kids did. It was just me. Fighting myself in my head. And I worried that if I talked to you guys I wouldn’t be able to stay away.” Tears were still dripping down her cheeks. Harper dared to reach out and tuck a mussed strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “But I promise you I won’t leave you again. Not like this. And I promise I will always talk to you. Okay?” She nodded and took a step forward, as if seeking reassurance. Harper opened his arms for a hug and she folded into him, sobbing. “Oh, baby girl, I love you so much. I’m sorry I hurt you but I really did think it would be better if I just disappeared.” He ran his hands down her long hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you think you can forgive me? I really miss talking to you.” She nodded her head against him and wrapped her arms around him to squeeze, then pulled back with a gasp. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Harper smiled. “Nope. Not enough to notice.” He pulled her back for another hug and another kiss on top of her head. “Wanna grab some breakfast?” Dillon nodded and they headed to the kitchen, his arm around her shoulders.

Pelewen still wanders the night Under the canopy of long-dead days, A knight sword-sworn to duty and might, A knight faith-sealed with truth and right.   Nerena still wanders the misty eve, Under the canopy of long-dead days, A witch evil-sworn to lies believe, A witch dark-sealed to darkness wreathe.   What brought you, knight, to wander that wood? What brought the thieves who cut you down? Where, dark witch, did you find the good, To succor he who for goodness stood?   With secrets whispered in secluded shade, She healed you, knight, your life returned, With kisses, witch, the first he gave, Your soul was healed and holy made.   Love, you too we see this night Under the canopy of long-dead days; A blessing sworn to the good and right, A love that sealed a witch and knight.   What partings made upon the morn, Under wind and sun and forest song: One body whole and one soul born, Four eyes wet and two hearts torn.   What drove you, Knight, to the distant glade? What drove you to confess, dear maid? Why, Knight, did heart turn horse ‘round again? And why, Pureman, could you not forgive her stain?   One maid burned at morning’s light. One horse rides through ash at night. One soul to tell the Knight the tale. One Knight upon his sword impaled.   Death, you too we see this eve, Under the canopy of long-dead days; A death dark-sworn to love bereave, A death dark-sealed to sadness wreathe.   “Well, that was depressing,” Chertanne derided

else. She did stand you up.” He tilted my chin with his fingertips so that I was looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not going to give up. She is. And I don’t want to pursue anyone else.” We stood gazing into each other’s eyes and I realized that I needed to get him out of my house and get back to my bubble bath. I should use him for inspiration... “Look, I was in the middle of something very important before you came over, so if you could leave right now so I can get back to it, that would be great. Maybe we can talk about what happened over the weekend at work tomorrow? For the record, I really am sorry I stood you up. I had every intention of being there but—” He silenced me with a kiss and I kissed him back with a passion I’d never felt before. He reached down and untied my robe, pushing it off my shoulders and onto the floor. Smiling, he assaulted my mouth with his tongue again, using his hands to tug at the drawstring on my pants. All of sudden, I felt a vibrating sound going off in my pocket. Before I could reach down and shut it off, he reached into my pants and pulled out my favorite purple friend. He examined it for a few seconds, blinking. Then he held it front of my face and smirked. “Is this what I was interrupting?” It’s been four years....Four. Long. Years... “Claire?” He cupped my chin and held my face so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. “Is this what you were doing?” “I...” I swallowed. Then I went for it. “What if it was?” A slow, sexy smile spread across his lips. “Then I think I should finish what you started.” He sealed his mouth over mine again and pressed me against the island, making it hard for me to breathe. I’d never been kissed like he was kissing me; it felt like I was having sex—with my mouth. He was controlling my tongue with his, molding his perfectly full lips to mine, and biting down on my

FIRST KISS   I lean in to kiss her. But instead of reaching for her lips I draw mine just passed them, firmly and gently planting my love against her smooth face. I commence to let her know with my love that I will wait for her out of respect and most importantly out of love. I can feel her heart sink deep into the unknown where only there she becomes fully aware in mind, body, and spirit. As my lips begin to pull away she draws herself closer to me, allowing me to seal another kiss firmly against her forehead.   Reaching to finger my lips with both her hands she carefully inches closer to me as if she is about to be kissed for the first time. A heart propelling uprush of seismic energy fills my body and soul with a radiance that burns before our lips even begin to touch. As my lips fall upon hers I am welcomed by all that her heart covets. Only in her kiss do I receive the one answer to all that matters. Only here am I offered a way to live when I would have rather died. In the hold of her lips am I found secure from the rest of the world. For even having known her within this single moment has my life been made full. Now watching her peacefully come down from where she has ascended, I am taken by the energy disseminating from around her body with excitement. I am taken by her touch and that look that remains constant in her eyes.

All kisses before this have been mere child’s play. I drink him in and know my fate is sealed: I am his.

The book closing on the days and the years and every slowly released hug and quick kiss to the top of the head and all the other acts and moments tabulated and tallied for the binding of the seal inalterable.

i didn’t have to say anything he just knew he enveloped me in his arms told me it was okay to cry as he sealed a kiss on my lips and dried my eyes with his t-shirt - love is not love without all the little things

The clacks?” said Moist. “I daresay the clacks is wonderful if you wish to know the prawn market figures from Genua. But can you write S.W.A.L.K. on a clacks? Can you seal it with a loving kiss? Can you cry tears onto a clacks, can you smell it, can you enclose a pressed flower? A letter is more than just a message. And a clacks is so expensive in any case that the average man in the street can just about afford it in a time of crisis: GRANDADS DEAD FUNERAL TUES. A day’s wages to send a message as warm and human as a thrown knife? But a letter is real.

my fair lady I thank you so much for all that you have done, all that you do, and all that will come when we have come together again. I love you sweet darling and I always will now let's end this day and crawl into bed snuggling and kissing the whole night away. I just want to be near you and bask in the glory of our mutual immense love. Let's snuggle now and forget the world. Feel my arms wrapped around you I'll be holding you tight throughout the night, though right now I can't in person in spirit I'm always there holding your hand and giving you all of my loving warmth. I'll be holding you close and stroking your hair, softly speaking to you saying I love you sweet Kira and everything is going to be okay, you're not alone and you'll never be because I am your man and I care so very deep. Then feel the sweet kisses I seal my word with. I'll see you tonight in the land of dreams where we can just hold each other as we both so very need. We'll sit under a tree and talk quietly smiling and holding each other in total peace, then share some kisses so deep and sweet tonight my true love in the sweet land of dreams. I truly can't wait to kiss you and hold you in sweet reality.

my fair lady I thank you so much for all that you have done, all that you do, and all that will come when we have come together again. I love you sweet darling and I always will now let's end this day and crawl into bed snuggling and kissing the whole night away. I just want to be near you and bask in the glory of our mutual immense love. Let's snuggle now and forget the world. Feel my arms wrapped around you I'll be holding you tight throughout the night, though right now I can't in person in spirit I'm always there holding your hand and giving you all of my loving warmth. I'll be holding you close and stroking your hair, softly speaking to you saying I love you sweet and everything is going to be okay, you're not alone and you'll never be because I am your man and I care so very deep. Then feel the sweet kisses I seal my word with. I'll see you tonight in the land of dreams where we can just hold each other as we both so very need. We'll sit under a tree and talk quietly smiling and holding each other in total peace, then share some kisses so deep and sweet tonight my true love in the sweet land of dreams. I truly can't wait to kiss you and hold you in sweet reality.

He would be forty-five now, a grown man, if he had not died that fall. His final pneumonia took him quickly: a fever that rocketed skyward, the tiny, bottlelike lungs filling, coma, death within hours. After all he’d been through, it seemed a mercy, though of course that was an illusion, something to say to fill the silence of his missing life: the bicycle he would not ride, the books he would not read, the friends he would not have and the girl he would not kiss. The thousand pains and pleasures of his life, shelved in a tomb that the door of early death had sealed. No, there was no mercy in what happened to my boy at all. When he died, he weighed just eleven pounds. It’s said that many marriages do not survive the loss of a child, that such grief is a room parents enter together but depart alone. I have no cause to argue the point, having sat in just that room. From that day forward we loved each other, Meredith and I, but we loved with broken hearts. And when, on a morning not long after we had buried Sam, I came into the kitchen to find Meredith standing at the window, cupping the curve of her stomach in a secret way that I alone understood, I knew we would go on.

Stella,” he whispered before his lips pressed to mine. The agony of missing him leaked from my every pore. I threw every ounce of pain into that kiss, all the love that I felt escaped in a sob he captured with his lips. Softly, he pressed in, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he slid his arms around my body, pulling me tightly to him. He kept our mouths sealed while he held me, our lips pressed together, and I felt his hesitance to let go when I pulled my lips away. He dropped his forehead to mine.

Brushing my lips against his, I seal the kiss with a sigh of blissful defeat. This isn’t a battle I want to win. I’ll surrender my weapons and allow myself to fall on Seven’s sword. He can take the last remaining shard of my heart and do with it what he pleases… as long as I can stay right here, in his arms. “That’s love,” I say against his lips. “You never have to be alone again.

traditional Norse blessing. Facing in each direction as he speaks, he forbids all evil from entering our lives from this point forward. After invoking the gods, our ancestors, and everyone gathered here today as our witnesses, he lights a symbolic candle to purify us so that we may enter our marriage with unadulterated love. Dipping an evergreen sprig into a bowl of holy water, he anoints Ella and me, offering his blessings before binding our hands together with the rite of the white ribbon. We recite a prayer to Frigga, the goddess of marriage, followed by our vows promising to love, honor, and cherish each other. The rings we exchange were personally chosen by Ella. A moonstone set into oxidized silver for her, and a brushed silver Tungsten band for me. As the final rite of passage into married life, the Gothi pours a goblet of mead wine and brings our free hands together around the stem, encouraging each of us to drink. Once we do, he declares us bound for eternity as husband and wife. He removes the goblet, and I bring my hand to Ella’s face, sealing our marriage with a kiss. Around us, bells begin to ring, a salute from the witnesses. But Ella and I only have eyes for each other as we seal our commitment to one another. When the Gothi opens the circle again with one last symbolic prayer, we exit to our new life amongst our family and friends. Celebrations are in order, and the chef has prepared a feast of traditional foods.

A minute, perhaps more, passed before she became aware she'd stopped swabbing altogether, and had been standing very still instead, watching the fair, fernlike trail that traveled from his flat belly up between his ribs rise and fall, rise and fall, with his quickening breath. He turned his head, slowly, slowly lifted his eyes up to hers. This... this was desire. Not the near-chaste kiss pressed upon her earlier today by another man, but this thing that made a tyrant of her senses, that made it seem absurd to stand this close to him and not taste the smooth curve of his shoulder, not trail a finger along the hair that began between his ribs and disappeared into his trousers. This thing that sealed the two of them in heated, fraught silence; that suddenly made thought seem pointless, even frivolous beyond words. But in this moment it didn't matter at all to Susannah whether Kit had made love to one woman or a million, it didn't matter at all to her whether he saw her as just a body from whom to take pleasure. She didn't care whether he was here for her sake, or for the sake of Caroline Allston. She wanted him with an incinerating ferocity, because in a sense it was all she had to give to him.

I love you, Raymond. And our love is enough." He kissed her, his lips lingering on her as if to seal their words between them.

Taylor,” I whispered hoarsely, stroking her back. “Baby, do you feel that?” She retracted her fangs and licked my neck to seal the punctures before looking at me. “Yes.” Her eyes were bright. “It’s back, Victor. Our blood-bond… it’s back.” “More than a blood-bond now,” I reminded her, kissing her fiercely. “It’s a life-bond now.” She looked worried. “Is that… are you all right with that?” “Of course, I am,” I promised her. “It’s what I wanted all along. It’s fucking perfect.” “Victor,” she murmured, her eyes wet with tears. “I love you so much. I’m so glad you feel the same way.” “I never stopped feeling it,” I whispered, kissing her gently. “You’re mine, baby. Mine forever and I’m never letting you go. Never.