Quotessence
Home / Quotes / C Quotes

C Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with C. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All C Quotes

“Connor dipped his head and kissed from her neck to her collarbone, and down her arm as he slipped the sark off her shoulder revealing the satiny skin beneath. When he got to her fingers, he nipped her ring finger and Mackenzie gasped as he drew it into his mouth and sucked. He raised his eyes back to hers and trapped her gaze in his own. Connor slid her sark down her body and Mackenzie was helpless to do anything but stare into the dark blue pools of molten desire his eyes had become. It was a heady feeling to know that she was the reason his eyes were so dark; she had never before felt so powerful. He wanted her and this time she knew what to do. Mackenzie unwrapped his plaid from the chieftain brooch and pushed it off his shoulder. Connor held perfectly still and let it fall to the floor with Mackenzie’s pile of clothes. Next Mackenzie dragged his shirt over his head; it too joined the growing pile of clothing. Mackenzie couldn’t help but marvel at his hard body with all its scars hinting at the power and danger this man carried. She let her fingers trail down from his chest to the patch of hair on his stomach, and lower still. She could feel his muscles clench and his breath stop as she wrapped her fingers around his erection. She quickly found his rhythm and knelt down to press her lips to his lower abs. Trailing her mouth down to where her hand was, she gently licked the tip. She felt a thrill of satisfaction as his hands gripped her shoulders and as her mouth took him in, his fingers tightened. She used both her hand and her mouth to pleasure Connor. He molded a hand to the nape of her neck, holding her in place. She was becoming bolder with her free hand, exploring what made his muscles quiver and his breath hitch, when Connor pulled her roughly up and to him, crushing her lips with his. He pressed her back against the cold wall and lifted one of her long legs, hitching it around his hip. She was tall enough that he didn’t have to lift her. He slipped inside her and Mackenzie reveled in the groan wrenched from him. This was how she liked Connor; out of control. He pushed into her again and again until they were both panting, and Mackenzie was moaning with every breath. She couldn’t wait any longer. “Oh God Connor, I’m so close.” “Just let go, love.” With her back pressed against the cold wall and the heat from Connor’s body warming her, Mackenzie shuddered with the force of her orgasm and she melted into Connor’s arms as he spent himself in her.”

“Connor had become a doctor just two days ago—along with all of his friends. They were hand-selected at just three years old to undergo intensive medical training as part of a controversial experiment, called Kid Docs. In the past few years, the Kid Docs program had produced some of the best doctors in the entire country, if not the world. They had some of the lowest complication rates and the highest success rates, and they had developed innovative new procedures that saved lives that were previously unsalvageable. Connor hoped that he would be among the best doctors in the world someday. But right now, he was focused on only a single thing: saving this one man’s life.”

“Connor’s pulse tripped. “You text with Tess and Charlie and Natalie about sex?” “Mmm hmm. That new book that came out this week, with Declan on the cover? Inspired a huge conversation about multiple orgasms,” she said. “I’m going to change the subject now.” Harlow’s brows furrowed, and she stopped short. “Are you upset that I talk about sex with our friends?” “Not at all.” He reassured her by closing the distance between them until there wasn’t any left. “But if words like ‘multiple orgasms’ keep coming out of your pretty little mouth, I’m going to be far too tempted to take you home and make life imitate art.”

“Connor Scarborough was a local legend. Unlike most of the Holloway High kids who had been going to school together their entire lives, Connor hadn’t shown up until halfway through eighth grade. And when he did, he stood out like a sore thumb. Not because he was the new kid or because of his fondness for black tank tops and denim jackets, but because of the scar. Red and jagged, it ran from beneath his bangs all the way down through his left eye to the middle of his cheek. And it didn’t take long at all for the stories to start. Or for the cruel nicknames to spread.”

“Connor stared at me while our respective lawyers each began threatening legal repercussions on our behalf. He didn’t look shocked, just resigned. And tired, he looked so tired. I knew, like me, he probably hadn’t been getting much sleep. “I won’t let you take her away from me.” he warned, his tone was tender though, firm but laced with tenderness. I hated the fact my heart still felt as if it belonged to him. I hated the fact I still loved him. He loved me too. Glaring at him, I snorted derisively. If I couldn’t stop loving him, I would make him stop loving me.”

“Connor turned to Vanda. “I’ll need to check yer bag, too.” “I thought you’d never ask.” Vanda tossed her bag onto the table. She was ready for him this time. He opened her silver evening bag. His eyes widened. She was quite proud that she’d managed to squeeze a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, her back massager, and a bottle of Viagra into such a tiny handbag. She smiled sweetly. “Something wrong, Connor?”

“Cono knew that all three of his tormentors would know the anthem by heart from their childhood years. They had sung it daily to belong to the elite of their country, wearing around their necks the red ties of the Communist Party Youth Brigade, which had formed their beings and all that they would be and would ever believe, even as communism became a ghost and the party a web of corruption.”

“Conocía aquel carácter y se reconocía en él, el de los perpetuamente cabreados con el mundo, el de los que creían que la vida les debía algo y se revolvían ante la sangrante injusticia de que siempre les fuera negado. Sintió lástima. Sin duda era una travesía por el desierto, y lo peor era que si nadie te rescataba, estabas condenado a morir loco y solo... Eso sí, con dos cojones.”

“Conosco un paese che ha provocato ben due guerre mondiali in un secolo e ha proposto una «soluzione finale», e nessuno lo ha mai definito maledetto. Conosco un paese insensibile alla disperazione umana, che continua a ridurre alla fame l'intero pianeta forte del suo strapotere finanziario, e nessuno lo definisce maledetto. Anzi, si presenta al mondo come il popolo benedetto dagli dèi, o meglio da Dio. Allora perché mai Haiti dovrebbe essere maledetta?”

“Conozco gente, conozco ciudades, granjas, montañas y ríos y piedras, conozco cómo se pone el sol en otoño del lado de un cierto campo arado en las colinas; pero ¿qué sentido tiene encerrar todo en una frontera, darle un nombre y dejar de amarlo donde el nombre cambia? ¿Qué es el amor al propio país? ¿El odio a lo que no es el propio país? Nada bueno.”