I imagine it would taste mighty good.
I'm a vampire and I would very much like to taste your blood.
She was starting to taste the bitterness of reality.
He complied and kissed her deeply, enjoying the taste and feel of her despite the mix of salty tears.
She stared at the embroidered tablecloth, tormented by the scent of food she couldn't eat and the visions of death and betrayal that left an acrid taste in her mouth.
He smelled like dark chocolate, spices and man, a combination that ensnared her senses and made her want to taste him.
She put her cell phone on its charger and explored the house, admiring his taste in everything from furniture to paintings to simple décor.
He focused on the taste of their warm blood and on tearing them limb from limb.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have considered her taste stylish or elegant.
"It's all still too much of a coincidence for my taste," Dean said.
"We have similar taste in alcohol," he said, and lifted his glass to her.
Rhyn felt suddenly jealous, wishing he could taste what smelled so wonderful.
Connor asked, "Does blood really taste good?"
Fast food chains optimize for two of them: taste and price, at the expense of nutrition.
Or that taste like meat, taking pastureland off the grid.
She's got a sharp tongue, but she could make shoe soles taste like fine steak.
But then, he didn't say her taste was stylish - he said it had style.
"Taste," Talon said, handing her arm to the silver-haired man beside him.
"You know she'll taste good," another agreed.
But I want to be the first demon to taste a deity.
Her senses filled with his taste, scent, the heat of his body, enveloping her yet never enough.
It somewhat squelched the taste, enough so they were palatable.
We're not the custodians of the morals of our guests, nor the taste of her lovers.
The taste of him filled her, calmed her.
The warm liquid in her mouth didn't taste like blood; it was virtually flavorless, tainted by a sweetness hard to quantify.
She recalled biting him and the taste of his blood.
She wanted – needed – to taste him again.
On some level – in the newfound instincts that wanted to taste him – his words made sense.
His tongue flicked out to taste her tears.
It made her hungry to taste him.
"Very good taste," he said, taking in the house.
He added a little tequila this time, and the absence of the plastic improved the taste more than he expected.
The first taste of blood sent him into an uncontrollable frenzy.
Really Sarah, can you honestly say you don't taste the plastic bag?
Now that we.re friends, I thought you might let me have a taste of your monkey.
The taste of your sweet nectar before I tear you apart?
I just wanted to eat your blood monkey because she smelled so good, I figured she.d taste even better.
And it doesn't do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil....
"I have neither taste nor smell," he remarked, sniffing at his glass.
He smelled of sweet rain and dark grasses, his taste just as exotic.
Shocked, Katie hesitated and then took it, the sugary taste soothing her headache as she swallowed.
"How does it taste?" asked the Wizard.