Quotes About Sensuality

Passionate kisses, the intoxicating exchange of breath and saliva - and something more intimate - something there was no real name for, like a spark catching between us and taking light. How had I forgotten this? How had I been satisfied with anything else? Guy...Mel...it was like choosing celluloid kisses over the real thing. The real thing was raw and powerful and dangerous...but it was the real thing. Had I really believed I could make do with safe substitutes?

Then I got another mental image of him, broad chest covered in blond pelt, muscular forearms, big smooth cock jutting out of a silky nest. Riordan ordering me down on my knees, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulled my head toward his heat. The laugh died in my throat.

Jake sapeva di bourbon e dolore. Aprii la bocca alla sua lingua, il suo ruvido velluto che spingeva contro il mio, reclamandomi come io stavo reclamando lui. Quel torrido pomeriggio – le scuri di legno che sbattevano contro il muro, il ronzio delle api fuori dalla finestra, il rumore lontano di un aereo che viaggiava verso luoghi sconosciuti – era solo un altro anello della catena.

Nothing so simple nor yet so intense as a kiss between lovers. The Boy with the Painful Tattoo

I'd let him put his hand under my shirt, over the bra, where he kneaded with delighted disbelief at my booby. It had been super exciting, not really because it felt that great to have my booby treated like a yeast roll, but because we had both been so thrilled that I had let him touch it.

my mouth opens willingly for his. It's a Pavlovian thing: when his face is anywhere within kissing distance, I hunger to have his lips on mine.

Dragon's eyes flew open. He stared at his hand curved over the alabaster mound of a perfectly formed breast, at the delectable rose-hued nipple peeking through his fingers, up past the firm set of a certain chin and straight into honey-hued eyes that somehow failed to appear the least abashed. "Uh..." he said, which he rather thought was as articulate as any man could be expected to be under the circumstances, skald-souled or not.

I wanted her under me, helpless to do anything but endure as I possessed her in every possible way. I wanted her moans, her screams, the sweet contractions of her cunt as it convulsed at the nexus of pain and pleasure so intense as to shatter her. I wanted to lick her tears from the curve of her cheek, hold her as she shook from the force of what I made her feel and then, when she had calmed a little, begin all over again.

Que mes seins te provoquent Je veux ta rage. Je veux voir tes yeux s'épaissir Tes joues blanchir en se creusant. Je veux tes frissons. Que tu éclates entre mes cuisses Que mes désirs soient exaucés sur le sol fertile De ton corps sans pudeur.

He suddenly suspected what everyone comes to understand sooner or later, that communication was impossible and not even desirable, that compassion was worth no more than hate, that a tolerant indifference, an attention divided between respect and sensuality, was all that could be asked or be given.

No es carta de amor ni elegía; es carta de haberte querido y comprendido desde el principio inmemorable hasta el beso reiterado sobre tus pies amarillos, curiosamente sucios y sin olor.

There are some things that are as ancient as time, and knowing when a man desires you is one of those.

She could sense the length of him against her buttocks as well as a kind of heaviness, a substantive presence. He was changing right there under her, growing longer and thicker, information she acquired through the unlikely source of her bum, while he kissed her mouth. Heavens, what a sensation.

Physical compatibility is a question of skin first and foremost. If the contact of one skin on another isn't immediately pleasing nothing else can possibly matter, but if it is, all other things may follow.

I think I want to kiss you again

When he bent down and swept her up in his arms and carried her to the divan, she did not protest. She fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat, eager to touch his flesh and feel his heart beat against her hand. He moved over her and looked down at her with eyes dark with passion. "I have missed you," he said. "God, how I have missed you." "Show me," she said, and sighed with happiness when he put his hand on her ankle and began to slide it up her leg.

As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. "Don't," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, "I'll be your blanket".

The world seemed somehow different when one was lying down. Darker, more dangerous ... And in that moment, as he slowly closed the distance between them, he became her entire world.

He had to kiss her. He had to. It was as basic and elemental as his breath, his blood, his very soul. And when he did... The earth stopped spinning. The birds stopped singing. Everything in the world came to a halt, everything but him and her and the feather-light kiss that connected them.

I had a feeling you'd like that," he said with a satisfied grin. "Why do I feel it . . . everywhere?" "Everywhere?" he murmured. His fingers moved between her legs. "Or here?" "Everywhere," she said breathlessly, "but there most of all.

Full lips are better for kissing.

What are you doing?" she whispered against his lips. He gave her a lopsided grin, as one of his fingers slid inside. "Making you feel really, really good?" She moaned, which pleased him. If she'd managed intelligible speech he would have known he wasn't doing his job correctly. -Kate & Anthony

He did things to her, she realized. Strange, shivery things that left her breathless. He need only to look at her—not in his usual, conversational way, but to really look at her, to let his eyes settle on hers, deeply blue and insightful, and she felt naked, her soul bared.

Have you heard of la petite mort?" "The little death?" "It's what the French call it. A metaphor, I assure you. I have always thought it more an affirmation of life. Or perhaps a reason for living." And then, with all the wicked promise he felt in his soul, he looked up at her through his lashes and murmured, "Shall I show you?