Quotes About Sensuality

He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?" "Jericho" "Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight. My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck?

I didn't hear him behind me. I felt him. Electric. Wild. One foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out. And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was. Where was I supposed to put that in my head?

Barrons had just given me the most carnal, sexually charged hungry look I'd ever seen in my life, and I was pretty sure he didn't even know he had done it.

Since the moment I laid eyes on Jericho Barrons, I wanted him. I wanted him to do things to me that pink and clueless MacKayla Lane was shocked and appalled and ... okay, yeah, well, utterly fascinated to find herself thinking about.

How does it feel, MacKayla? You have a piece of me in your mouth. Would you like another?

Cat got your tongue? And what a lovely tongue it is. I know. It licked every inch of me. Repeatedly. For months," He purred but with steel in the velvet

Being nearly naked around Barrons felt a lot like going to a shark convention lightly basted in blood.

Driving a hot car is a lot like sex to me, or a lot like I keep thinking sex should be: A total body experience, overwhelming, to all the senses, taking you places you've never been, packing a punch that leaves you breathless and touches your soul. The Viper was way more satisfying then my last boyfriend.

I think sex with him might undo my essential cellular cohesion.

He was sexual in a way that made women think of deeply repressed fantasies therapists and feminists alike would cringe to hear tell of.

You have splendid breasts, lass," he purred, cupping the plump mounds. "Splendid," he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them. -Drustan to Gwen

Even now, my back was still arched with sensual invitation, my bottom was questing up like a cat in heat, and my every move was supple, sinuous. I was one great big come-hither.

When he'd pushed inside me and I'd feel him begin to penetrate, it had turned me into a wild thing-hot, wet, and desperate for more of him. With every kiss, every caress, every thrust, I'd just needed more. He'd touched me, I went nuts. The world dwindled down to one thing: him.

He kissed like no man she'd ever known. There was something about him, a rawness, an earthy sensuality that bordered on barbaric, something she'd never be able to explain to someone else. A woman had to be kissed by Dageus MacKeltar to fully understand how devastating it was. How it could bring a woman to her knees.

You will hold me and we will live. Dance. Fuck. Feast. It will be grand. We will K'Vruck the world." "I'm not holding you. Ever." "You were made for me. I for you. Two for tea and t-t-tea for two.

Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.

And when he did that, my hands curled into fists because I thought about touching his face like maybe I could catch joy in my hands and hold it.

She kisses him, lips parted, slow and sexy, lightly touching his lips with her tongue, offering wonders that would rock his world, while delivering nothing. Open mouthed, seductive, warm, inviting and Ã¢â'¬Â¦ dangerous. Even I can feel the explosive sexual energy held in check behind her bare feather of a touch. She's making sure he feels it, slapping him in the face with all she could offer—but isn't.

I stretched to my full height and kissed him. Like I kissed Dancer. Soft, sensual butterfly wings against his lips. Unlike the last kiss I gave Ryodan, this wasn't one to provoke or challenge or say "Fuck you—can't touch this." It was a kiss that said simply, "I see you and admire you and want you to live.

As his other hand began to slip around her waist, his body brushed against hers, and there was no mistaking the thick, hard ridge grazing her jean-clad bottom. Heavens, did that thing never subside? The rest of him might be mortal, but his immortal erection certainly didn't scan to have gotten the memo.

He is raw sex in a bottle, uncorked. And somebody needs to cork it!

His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.

It had taunted, provoked, brushed its big, hard body against hers at every opportunity, and in general lounged about looking like the epically horny fairy it was reputed to be. ~Gabby's thoughts on Adam

He would be, she now knew, a whole lot dominant in bed and a little bit dirty. -Gabrielle about Adam