Quotes from Cheryl Holt

Holding only the back of her neck, he didn't deepen the embrace, nor did he caress her or flex against her. He simply merged with her and, as he'd suspected, he was immediately overwhelmed. This is what heaven must be like . The transient concept drifted past, then evaporated. Sweetly, almost chastely, he discovered her best-kept secrets, using scant pressure and bare coercion. With a feeling approximating joy, he teased and trifled.

He was once again wearing only a pair of trousers, chest bared, and sight was extremely arousing. All that naked male flesh, all that dark, swirled hair, was unsettling and thrilling. She longed to run her fingers through the matted pile, to rub her nose against it, while she traced over sinew and bone.

were family

This is the main course," he declared. "Later, I'll provide dessert." From the salacious gleam in his eye, she understood that he wasn't referring to food. "Do I get to pick my favorite?" "With my avid assistance.

She couldn't tear herself away from his beautiful face, his furred chest, his tight trousers. As usual, the top buttons were unfastened, and her gaze was held captive by the male mysteries buried below. How she craved to see him in the altogether! To run her hands across that marvelous torso! To massage and caress as he permitted his other paramours to indulge themselves on a regular basis!

There's no need to threaten or bellow. I intend to discuss this quietly and rationally, or I won't discuss it at all. I'm asking you how to handle the dissolution with a minimum of fuss

Not willing to deny himself a modest sample of the shattering excess, he spun her and propped her against the bedpost. Her thighs were spread wide and, though many layers of fabric separated them, his cock was wedged against her mound, her searing heat coaxing him, urging him on and in. Matching the thrust of his tongue, he flexed against her, slowly and meticulously, letting her savor his aroused condition, allowing her to distinguish his decadent invitation.

I love her more than my life. What were you thinking, harming her? Didn't you understand that I'd have to kill you for it?

You're half-dead, yet you have the vigor to philander? I was stabbed, not castrated.

Die, damn you! Maybe tomorrow. Just now I'm busy.

Did you have to murder him? Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Well, the deed's done. No use complaining.

But wouldn't it be more amusing if I stayed? You could climb in the tub again, and I could wash you. Or---" he glanced down at his pants that so graphically outlined his masculine form---"I could soak in the water, and you could bathe me . Either way, I promise the experience will be everything you desire. And more.

I decided that I wanted to have one memory of you with your clothes on." "Beast," she chuckled. "If you wished to see me dressed, you only had to request it." "Plus, it's so fun to remove everything"---he stared at her over the rim of his stemmed goblet---"piece by piece.

What man had ever been presented such an enticing feast? She was a mature virgin, primed and ready for sexual initiation. If he acceded, he could excite and stimulate her, teach and disclose to her the sexual methods he enjoyed. A devoted, zealous pupil, she would wield her distinct skills with lethal precision for his exclusive benefit and delectation.

magnificent.

Not willing to deny himself a modest sample of the shattering excess, he sun her and propped her agains the bedpost. Her thighs were spread wide and, though many layers of fabric separated them, his cock was wedged against her mound, her searing heat coaxing him, urging him on and in. Matching the thrust of his tongue, he flexed against her, slowly and meticulously, letting her savor his aroused condition, allowing her to distinguish his decadent invitation.

He needed Sarah's sweet courtesy, was desperate to suffer through her virginal oohs and aahs, to bask in her fascination. The feel of her smooth hands, with those slender, questing fingers roving over him, was like a healing salve to his battered body and spirit. She amused herself with his chest, rifling through the springy hair, exploring the ridges and valleys until her maneuvers felt as natural as breathing, as though she'd touched him just so a hundred times before.

Captain, and he marched over

Lovely..." he murmured in an enticing baritone that skittered across her nerve endings and induced her abdomen to clench in response. The peculiar salutation snapped her into action, and she whirled to face him. Nervously, she clutched at the towel, desperately striving to shield herself, but his probing examination slithered over her like a tangible caress, lingering on her lips, her breasts, the juncture between her thighs.

Fastidiously, she investigated, learning his shape, awed by the variations of velvet over steel. She pampered and played, altering the pressure, the speed, the length of her caress. Amazingly, with the slightest modification, he reacted accordingly.

Her breathing hitched. Too much was happening too fast. The wanton episode was so inconceivable that it played out like a fantasy---except that he was really present, arousing and addictive. Her mind wailed for her to call a halt, but her body wouldn't obey. 'I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time"---his assertion brushed against her ear---"but maybe I should take you here, by the mirror, so you can see how splendid we are together.

There was a deceptive air about her that fascinated him; she was natural yet beguiling, and he'd calculated that copulation with her would be a refreshing development, that she would bring something to his sexual intercourse that had been lacking for a long while. By doing nothing at all, she formented a diverse jumble of sentiment that had him craving more than a heedless carnal encounter. Perhaps his heart had not turned to stone, after all.