Quotes About Sensuality

I'm not surprised to feel myself trembling. I'm touching my goddess.

I love to wear lingerie. The problem is that men always rip it off too quickly. When women are dolled up in lingerie they feel sexy. So let us wear it for five minutes.

How he wanted to touch her hand again! And once again, it seemed that her eyes lingered the longest upon his face, this pumpkin who was the pinnacle of female virtue. Cormack's cock, unbidden, elongated and stiffened. He was glad that his buckskin shirt covered his erection, although suddenly he was acutely aware that his belt was probably too tight.

Zelnora," he rasped back, "the bullfrog has croaked it. I want your dewy pussy clamped down around my prick.

He slurped unashamed like a cow in a lake, as though her quim were the most ambrosial trough of sauterne imaginable. Was this some strange Indian thing? It was unbelievably shameful yet arousing to have his beautiful pointed nose buried in her sex, lapping away like a mountain cat.

She bit her lips, concentrating, wishing he'd go and sit on one of the chairs before the fireplace. Or stand at the window and watch the full moon. Anything but sit there so close she could smell the sandalwood soap he used. Night had brought a shadow of a beard to his face. He no longer looked every inch the earl, but more a coach robber, someone who would march her out to the glen and kiss her until she fell to her knees. He would show no mercy to her. Instead, he would make her beg.

Chris's tongue traced a path of fire down Tia's neck. His hands sought her breasts, kneading the soft flesh.

Manor laid his head straight on the beating heart. His lips searched for the gently swelling mound above the heart, which was set in motion by the heartbeat. There Manor began to suckle, longing and thirsting, like a baby on a mother's breast.

To read is to make love to the world," he said. "But to make love to a woman is to feel like the world is reading you.

Armiger leaned over her and kissed her cheek. "Which what do I prefer?" "Do you prefer making love or reading?" He voice held a teasing note, but he had learned there were frequently hidden needs behind her teasing questions. "To read is to make love to the world," he said. "But to make love to a woman is to feel like the world is reading you.

What are you going to do?" Her voice was breathy. "I'm going to do you." He nuzzled her neck.

It would be easier to be smart if I didn't want to be inside you. Didn't want to feel you come." She shuddered. Sex had always been a subject they'd never discussed. One of those taboo topics they avoided. It was strange to hear him utter those words, say things she'd never envisioned him saying to her, but they lit her on fire. "If we still feel this way on Friday, maybe you will." His lips brushed her throat, raising the fine hairs there. "I can give you an orgasm and not fuck you.

I'm naked underneath." "Commando here, too." One corner of her mouth tipped up. "Something else we have in common." He moved toward her, stepped around the chair. Closing in, he he finger-traced her cleavage. She didn't flinch or cringe, which encouraged him to say, "I'll take off my shirt, so you don't feel alone when I peel down your top." "Once our tops are off?" "We work our way down." "Down...

Stepping out, off the page, into the sensual world. And then our arrows of desire rewrite the speech...

You don't need words just one kiss, then another.

For the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air, at the mercy of the sun, the breeze that beat upon her, and the waves that invited her.

Then he strode across the room and kissed her. It was a crazy, impulsive act, but the minute his lips touched hers he knew it was the right thing to do. She tasted like sex and sin and forbidden fruit, and he couldn't get enough.

Many things in this place were bewildering, but the feel of her body was still the thing he knew best in all the world.

Jay's large body covered her. Oh God, the welcome weight of him. His mouth descended on hers, not asking, not seeking, but demanding she meet his need. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up into him as her tongue darted into his mouth, met his, and mated in a hot, heady tangle.

we touched each other's center, perfectly, just the fingertip upon the clitoris moving more and more slowly, our eyes steady on each other and the delicate pressure fine and more fine until all motion stopped in one still point remembered always, a vision. And then I did not know her pleasure from mine, my body from hers. We fell into and became each other. Then we slipped over the edge, entered and made love.

Sex, Emma thought. It curdled the mind and turned one into a drooling idiot. She had firsthand knowledge.

Girls are for dessert.

By interpreting freedom as the propagation and immediate gratification of needs, people distort their own nature, for they engender in themselves a multitude of pointless and foolish desires, habits, and incongruous stratagems. Their lives are motivated only by mutual envy, sensuality, and ostentation.

Maybe it was possible to relinquish control. He could do this, with Bengt he could. Give himself up and fly. He closed his eyes, let himself be pulled in by the touch. Bengt's arms. Bengt's hands on his thighs, arms, chest. Lips and tongue on neck and shoulders, the need for more. 'Don't stop.