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Vampire Romance Quotes

Browse 183 quotes about Vampire Romance.

Vampire Romance Quotes

“I stood up and... there he was. My new roommate, standing right in front of me. He looked like he'd just stepped out from a magazine photo shoot, his hair artfully tousled and falling perfectly over his forehead. He was standing much closer to me than he had when I'd toured his apartment, and he seemed to notice that, too, his eyes widening and nostrils flaring a little as though he was breathing me in. He was dressed even more formally than he'd been the night I'd met him, adding a red silk ascot and black top hat to the charcoal-gray three-piece suit that fit like the gods had made it specifically for him. It was an odd look, to be sure. But--- god help me--- it worked. My mouth watered for reasons having nothing to do with hunger. If he noticed how overwhelmed I was by his appearance, he showed no sign of it. He simply frowned, brow furrowed in concern. He stepped a little closer. He smelled like fabric softener, the citrus fruit he'd put in my bedroom, and something deep and mysterious I had no name for.”

“Even dead, Scarlett seemed able to graft my thoughts onto yearnings a gentleman should never ever contemplate. But then again, no gentleman had ever lived a night wrapped in her cool limbs, savouring such sordid and delightful affections as I had. Scarlett’s attentions had raised me above God, but so help me, in no time she had thrown me down to the devil. And then the killings had begun.”

“Oh, Cassie," he breathed against my lips. He loomed over me, bracing his weight on his elbows, his forearms on either side of my head. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple. Then he chuckled quietly, the sound so happy and full of relief it broke my heart. "I will never be able to deny you anything you want." When I'd imagined this happening, alone in my bedroom, I'd imagined Frederick as a quiet and tentative lover, as polite and refined with sex as he was in everyday life. But there was nothing quiet or tentative about him now. Now that I was lying beneath him atop his lush four-poster bed, his passion was a dam bursting in flood, as though until this moment he'd been holding himself back only with extreme effort.”

“You did not let me keep my name, so I will strip you of yours. In this world, you are what I say you are, and I say you are a ghost, a long night's fever dream that I have finally woken up from. I say you are the smoke-wisp memory of a flame, thawing ice under an early spring sun, a chalk ledger of debts being wiped clean. I say you do not have a name.”

“Men feel about sex the way vampires feel about blood. They don't just like it, they crave it. That's why vampire stories always have strong sexual undercurrents. A vampire's hunger is simply a metaphor for a man's lust. And if a guy is paying attention to you, he wants to have sex with you.”

“We’re soldiers, Emily. If we’re not elders or council members then that’s all we are. We’re here to serve those above us. We’re novel worthy, day walking, blood sucking, tortured souls trapped in a body that can’t die for all eternity with no feelings, no emotions and no heart. We don’t get to feel love, passion or desire. We do as we’re told, for the good of the clan and because we’re told to do it. And we protect people. So whatever grand delusions you have about being some kind of wonderful child and the master’s favorite are just misguided attempts to feel human again. Get over it.”

“Is that what my scent does to you?" He leaned in closer until I was all but bathing in the heady cocktail of sex and desire pouring off him. Despite my earlier admonition, his vampire beacon still blazed like a lighthouse at dawn. Damn him. "Does it make you want to take off your clothes? Sit in my lap?" He tilted his head a little to the side, dark eyes fixed on the side of my neck. "Offer yourself to me?" He was looking straight through me. Wetness was already pooling between my thighs. No, no, no. This was not happening. "No?" I cringed at how breathy and unsure I sounded. Peter's eyes darkened as he leaned in even closer. His presence, his scent--- If I let him taste me, the pleasure would be unlike anything I had ever known.”

“I know about kissing, Cassie." He sounded genuinely affronted, and I cringed at what I'd just implied--- even as my knees went weal at the implication of what he'd just said. He'd been alive--- or, his equivalent of alive--- for hundreds of years. He'd probably kissed hundreds of people. Maybe thousands. In fact--- he was probably really good at kissing. "I'm sure you do," I said, too flustered to look at his face anymore. My gaze drifted down to his ridiculous apron. This Guy Rubs His Own Meat. I flushed deeper with the awkwardness of this entire situation. How was any of this happening?”

“In the hearts of fans everywhere, his protectiveness is where his true appeal lies. Edward feels both pleasure and pain in Bella's company: his heart cries out for her love while his need for her blood, the scent of which intoxicates him, and he must fight the urge to kill her to savor it. His agony would end if he were to fulfill her request to turn her into a vampire, but he refuses. He fears it would mean giving up her soul, and he has made it his mission to safeguard her, body and soul. Even when it seems he is bound by a promise to make her a vampire, he will only do it if she marries him, sanctifying the act in his mind. This magnificent creature, who could have one of his on glorious kind, chooses plain, mortal Bella; puts her on a pedestal; and is willing to protect and honor her. What woman could ask for more?”

“Мы обменялись клятвами — обычные традиционные слова, миллион раз произнесенные у алтаря до нас, хотя вряд ли в мире нашлась другая такая же необычная пара. По нашей просьбе священник внес единственное крошечное изменение и покорно проговорил вместо «пока смерть не разлучит нас» более логичное «отныне и навеки».”

“The two women were locked in a stare down. Angus was mesmerized by the cleavage that had passed by his face when the waitress had stood up. I was intently tracking Karen’s hand as it slipped down Angus’ thigh. Oh no… do not touch his thigh… I glared at Karen’s hand, focusing until each follicle on the back of her knuckles became distinct. I could burn that skin with the candle flame. I imagined the holes in her skin releasing each fine strand of hair with no more sound than an underwater coral worm spitting out filtered ocean dust. My arm twitched, yearning to act, but was stayed by the waitress’ next comment. “I get off at three.”

“She raised a brow as she inspected the blood bag. "I wouldn't exactly call it my favorite. Somewhere along the lines of a V8 is more toward my favorite." Chloë grunted in protest. "So my file didn't mention my fondness for cheeseburgers? Because that's a big miss from The Bureau. Makes me kinda question the accuracy of my dossier." - From Tall, Dark & Deadly”

“I woke up the next morning with the sun blazing through my window. I groaned and made to pull my pillow over my head. "Ow." I froze, and grinned sheepishly when I realized my head was not resting on a pillow, but rather on Reggie's chest. "Sorry." "You should be sorry," he said in mock chastisement, his voice thick with sleep. He didn't look upset, though. His dirty-blond hair was an utter wreck from all the pulling on it I did last night, and the beatific smile on his face... I had seen Reggie smile dozens of times by that point. His smile was a mask he wore. He smiled when he was sad, he smiled when he was anxious, or when he was playing a practical joke to deflect. This smile, though, reached all the way to his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. This was a real smile. In that moment, he looked happier, and more relaxed, than I'd ever seen him.”

“Every time I close my eyes I can still see her--- beaming up at the camera in that flimsy excuse for clothing, her hair a golden halo around her head, her body backlit and glorious. I am filled with rage. At the photographer for taking that picture. At Cassie for allowing so many others to see her practically naked. At all seven billion people on this planet who have the theoretical ability to see that picture of her with a few simple clicks of a button. At myself. As I sit hunched over my desk I try desperately to ignore the urgent, now-familiar ache in my loins. As Cassie sleeps innocently, unknowingly in the next room, I clutch at what remains of my sanity and of my self-control. Because God's thumbs--- when I saw that picture of her all I could think was how badly I want Cassie to wear that "bathing suit" of hers for me. If I had been there when it was taken, it would have been all I could do to keep myself from easing those delicate little straps of fabric off her shoulders and baring the rest of her beautiful body to my eyes.”

“If Reggie had any idea of the horny-tinged-with-WTF confusion swirling through me, he showed no sign of it. He was staring as unabashedly at me as I was at him. Though I think his reasons for gaping at me were different. His eyes were all but glued to my dress's low neckline, and to the just-this-side-of-indecent way it hugged my curves. His gaze moved up to my face and then slid down, down, down, before landing, and staying, on my ass. How long had it been since a man had openly stared at me like this? Like I was someone he found desirable. Like I was something he wanted. I needed to tell him to knock it off, but I couldn't. It was wrong, he was a stranger, but it felt incredible, the way he was looking at me.”

“Reggie, please." My pleas seemed to spur him on, his grip on me tightening as he hauled me up even closer to his mouth. I tried to buck against his face, his clever tongue, desperate for more friction, for release. But his hold on me was too strong. He pinned me in place, keeping me right where he wanted me, preventing me from moving at all as he drove the tight coil of pleasure inside me higher, and higher. And then--- He pushed one rough finger inside me, and then another, so tight, the delicious intrusion forcing every sentient thought from my head. I needed this--- him--- all of it. I needed it now. "Hades," he growled against my cunt. "I cannot wait to fuck you." His filthy words, muttered right there, were all I needed to hurdle headlong into orgasm. I scrabbled at the sheets, at Reggie's hair, clinging to anything I could to anchor me as the waves of bliss came again, and again, and again. Reggie coaxed me through it with his lips and tongue, holding me as he urged my body to keep going. I moaned his name, mindless, back arched like a bow above the bed, locked in pleasure that seemed to stretch on forever. When I collapsed to the bed, boneless, he was on me in an instant. "You are so fucking beautiful." His growl was visceral, animalistic. "The way you looked when you came--- fuck. I nearly came too, just from that.”

“It seemed strange to me, to suddenly be so protective of the rights of refusal of a girl I was dying to sink my teeth into, a girl who would probably love to see me crawl and beg and suffer. But I decided on the spot that if I was going to be a monster, I was going to be an elegant one, like my beloved De Lafontaine. There was no sense descending into an animalistic frenzy without the full agreement of my blood donor; there was no art in it, no beauty. And I would die before I sacrificed art and beauty. Life simply wasn't worth living if it wasn't by those principles.”

“His burgundy sweater was so soft it might as well have been made of angel kisses. I breathed in, deep and reflexively, and then immediately wished I hadn't because, god, he smelled good. Beyond good. I had no idea if it was some sort of expensive cologne, or the soap he used--- or if all vampires smelled this amazing if you breathed them in right at the source. All I knew was that the scent of him made me want to crawl inside his soft, fitted shirt and wrap myself up in it. Right there, on the crowded Red Line train, all the other passengers be damned.”

“I moved closer and made a show of sniffing him. The joke was on me, though. This close, his scent was potent, enticing--- and it was pouring off him in waves. He smelled like sex and the promise of almost unbearable pleasure. I could all but feel it reaching inside me, tugging me towards him. Despite myself, I squeezed my thighs together, doing my best not to imagine the ecstasy that would come if I just gave in and let him drink from me. Vampire venom worked like an aphrodisiac, making victims experience a kind of pleasure unlike anything else in the world.”

“I stepped closer and put both of my hands on his chest. Part of me still half expected to feel a heartbeat, a warm and yielding male body beneath my palms. But Frederick's chest was cool and almost unnaturally solid where I touched him, no rhythmic thumping where one would have been if he were still human. Fortunately--- or, unfortunately--- my heart was beating more than enough for the both of us. Frederick was right. The fabric of his shirt was soft. I slowly slid my hands back and forth over the waffle-knit material, reveling in how silky it felt beneath my fingertips, how delicious the contrast was with the hard planes of the chest beneath. But I didn't. The shirt he was wearing was nice enough. But that wasn't what kept me rooted to the spot, what kept my hands on his body long beyond what he'd probably imagined when he asked me to do this. I'd known he was muscular, but now that I was actually touching him I realized he was all but made of muscle. Had he been this physically fit when he was still human, I wondered? Or was being built like a professional athlete a physiological peculiarity unique to vampires? Either way, I could feel his pectorals bunch and flex beneath my palms as I touched him, could feel his sharp intake of breath when I grew bolder and started gently tracing his collarbones with my thumb. His eyes were still trained on me, but growing glazed and unfocused. "How..." He stopped, his eyes drifting closed. When he opened them again there was a heat in his gaze that made the department store, the rest of the world, fall away. He inclined his head towards me, his mouth scant inches away from mine. I could feel each one of his breaths against my lips, cool and sweet. My heart raced. My knees wobbled. "How does it feel?”