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“I’m here because of a letter.
Not the kind with hearts and lipstick marks, but the kind that takes your breath away. I wanted it to have that effect on him, and so it was the story of how we fell in love told through our kisses. Both kisses we’d had and kisses I wanted to have, and places I wanted to kiss. Places like Paris and Amsterdam, along the river or by the canal, or Kauai under waterfalls.
It was an epic love letter, and it was all I’d ever wanted in my life-to feel that kind of epic love.”
― Lauren Blakely, 21 Stolen Kisses

“She said she wouldn't be here tonight. She wanted to stay in. Her mouth is hot, her hands all knowing. I'm too far gone to resist. My Secret Princess. Did she lie and disguise herself to hide to plain sight? To find herself a stranger, to spend tonight with no one? She could only see one of my eyes and nothing else of my face. A shoddy thrown together costume became my new identity, and with it, this pirate stole the princess.”
― Max Watson, Chains of Nurture

“They say time heals all wounds. But does it close the gaps too? Maybe it can. Maybe in a year it turns an eight-year time gap into dust. Maybe it turns a girl who didn't know what she wanted into someone who became certain. Maybe it turns twenty-one stolen kisses into endless given ones.”
― Lauren Blakely, 21 Stolen Kisses

“His gaze returned to Cassandra's face, which would haunt him to the last minute of life. He had collected every smile of hers, every kiss, to hoard like a treasure chest of jewels. These few seconds with her were all he had, or would ever have.
Swiftly he bent and pressed his mouth to hers, gentle but urgent. There was no time for patience.
Her breath caught. Her lips parted tentatively.
He kissed her for all the midnights and mornings they would never share. He kissed her with a tenderness he would never be able to express in words, and felt her response in his blood, as if her sweetness had sunk into his marrow. His mouth pulled softly at hers, taking one last fervent taste... then slid away.
The skin of her cheeks was damp and sweet, as if she'd just come in from the rain. He brushed her closed eyelids with his lips, the surfaces fragile and silky, the sweeps of her eyelashes like feather dusters.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“Stolen kisses are shortest.”
― Mantaranjot Mangat, Plotless

“Every touch, every kiss, it was all stolen, and we were willing accomplices in the burglary of one another’s bodies.”
― Seanan McGuire, Pocket Apocalypse