Quotes About Sensuality

As much as I would enjoy inspecting your... rosette more closely, Miss Makepeace--- and the smile spread, becoming that intimating, preternaturally confident smile of the night before, ---I'll forego that pleasure for the moment.

They really 'did,' you know, he said softly, suddenly. Did? She was puzzled. The roses. Remind me of you. They're precisely the sort of flowers you ought to have. Those spectacular, throbbing, lush blooms that now stood guard over her bed. With petals unconscionably soft.

She'd removed her gloves to sketch, and what a soft little paw she had; he was tempted to linger over it for a moment, as he would any small pleasure, and allow his imagination to complete for him how soft the rest of her would be.

She let him know how much she liked what he was doing by scoring his back with her nails and crying out with pleasure. "Oh, God." "Nay, lass. Connor.

All the man had to do was look at her and her mind turned to lettuce. One kiss and she wilted into his arms.

I'm going to kiss you senseless enough not to notice my attire. -Duncan to Madelyne

Everyone knows there are foods that are sexy to eat. What they don't talk about so much is foods that are sexy to make.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered that in the physical act of cooking, especially something complex or plain old hard to handle, dwelled unsuspected reservoirs of arousal both gastronomic and sexual.

My husband cooed as he dug into his plate of delicious flambéed crepes. If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what is.

If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is.

If she were here I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off her. I would hold her so close she'd beg me to let her breathe. I'd kiss her so hard she'd plead for mercy. I'd unfasten her clothing and lie with her on that hard bed, and what was between us would be as far above the ordinary congress between man and woman as the stars are above their pale reflections in the lake below.

At the end of the parapet, a long black coat lay neatly folded on the wall. At the other end stood my sister and her lover. Tati's arms were wound around Sorrow's neck, her body pressed close to his, as if she would melt into him. His hands were enlaced in my sister's long hair as he strained her slight form against him, white on black. Their eyes were closed; their lips clung; they were lost in each other. It was beautiful and powerful. It was impossible.

I had learned how it felt to want more than the sweet touch of hand to cheek or lips to palm, more than a kiss, more than an embrace. I was starting to discover that it is not only the mind that understands love, but also the body.

His touch was like a bard's on his instrument, and it awakened a deep and mysterious music in my body.

Her eyes, nose, hands, feet... Each part was a supreme delicacy, and I was insatiable.

It's as though your life, on some measures, is validated by the amount of fucking and heartbreaking you have been involved in and also by the number of breasts and clitorises and cocks and inner thighs and mouths you have travelled intimately.

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I think he's right. When you kiss someone, it's the first taste of his mouth that will make or break your heart.

Zachary me enjabonó entre las piernas explorándome como si fuera la primera vez, como si no me conociera de memoria. Yo alargué la mano hacia atrás. Él dijo Lacey anne. Le encanta susurrar mi nombre cuando lo tengo dentro, y esa es la única ocasión en la que disfruto de verdad al oírlo, porque es como si todas las cosas de mí misma que me gustan y todas las que detesto confluyeran, en cierto modo, y me siento desnuda y plena, nombrada y encontrada.

But it was more than that. Paris represented life, sensuality, freedom, and fun. And that somehow made it impossible.

You,my lord, are giving me goose bumps. Every beautiful woman deserves to be clothed in no less.

He slipped his tongue between her lips and thrust it wantonly inside her mouth over and over, echoing the enticing move of his hips against hers. She clutched him closer, reveling in the feel of him, and the fact that she'd made him moan for her, whisper her name over and over, beg her without words for more. To kiss him more. To touch him more.

With a hoarse moan, he swept her against him, kissing her wildly, passionately, his mouth promising and teasing, as if her kiss had broken the dam that had held back his passion.

Just when she thought she could feel nothing more, he began to increase his pace, strokes that pushed her over the edge. The storm swallowed her screams of pleasure. She heard his exultant laughter as she jerked her hands free, gripped his buttocks and pulled him to her, riding out her climax with his.

To you." He kissed her mouth, then nipped her lower lip lightly. "With you, for you. In you.