Quotes About Sensuality

[Being in love] is something like poetry. Certainly, you can analyze it and expound its various senses and intentions, but there is always something left over, mysteriously hovering between music and meaning.

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine.

When you're tanner, you feel hotter and sexier. You should try it.

To shy away from human extremes and human sensuality makes for bone-dry fiction. A world parched of our sexual releases and our tumultuous daily emotional lives is deeply impoverished. It is not lifelike, at least life as I remember living it.

I'm tactile, very tactile. A woman who has really nice, looked-after skin is such a turn-on for me. It's always sexy.

I love a confident guy with smooth skin... such a turn-on!

Sometimes I'm really dressed up, and it really turns me on.

More like a chocolate molten lava cake. A dessert so sinful, so luscious, so filled with inner heat it made a girl want to lick each and every crumb right off the plate. That was Jack Pallas.

And your skin, it tastes like me. I want to taste you everywhere.

She knew she shouldn't want him with every fiber of her being, but she couldn't help herself. Gazing at him feeling his touch - the rest of the world faded into the background

Sometimes I just want to gobble you whole, eat you alive. You're so gorgeous. You're so beautiful.

If I'm excited by something bodily, and curious about it, I generally want to delve into it and explore it with poetry. That's the way I ordinarily watch the world around me.

I am the kind of woman who loves hurricanes. They put me in a party mood. Make me want to eat oysters on the half shell, and act slutty.

the kind of kiss that said, I want to consume every inch of you and hear you scream my name.

When a man's making love, the last thing he thinks about is war.

And I want cabana boys named Raoul to rub warm, fragrant oil all over me, from head to toe, all over my throat and chest and my legs and arms. I want—" Theo pushed the chair back on the deck and it made a loud scraping sound. He grabbed Lucy's face and kissed her hard, then rose up and placed her on her feet, taking her hand. "Where are we going, Theo?" "Shh." He stroked her hair as he led her inside. "The name's Raoul.

That's the kind of dress that belongs on the floor, all wrinkled up, with the zipper broken and the sleeves torn. That dress isn't right for you at all. In fact, I think you should take it off right now.

Be quiet, or I swear to God I'll take you right here

He wanted to protect her and fuck her and comfort her and destroy her all at once. The chaos of his emotions coiled around his pain, deepening the agony.

Does all your underwear look like it belongs in a high-class strip show?

As she gazed into those cool blue eyes, something strange happened in the vicinity of her middle. She suddenly felt like a hungry woman who had just been presented with a tempting dessert. Her moment of sensory weakness embarrassed her, and she frowned. "Damn, you're pretty," Dallie said softly. "Not half as pretty as you," she snapped, determined to squash whatever strangeness was lurking in the air between them.

I love being inside you, and touching your face, and opening my eyes so I know it's really you. And after we're finished, I go into a fever thinking about a day when I can leave myself inside you. When I'll steal the soap and turn off the water so I stay there... inside you... part of you.

He wanted to draw her nude. Every part of her. To capture her sensuality in pen and ink: the way she relished food, slipped her fingers into her hair, stroked the stem of her wineglass. The way she lifted her arms to stretch and tugged on her lower lip with her upper one. He'd watched her raise goose bumps on her own skin simply by stroking the inside of her wrist with the tips of her fingers, yet she seemed oblivious to this part of herself.

She was melting inside. Melting and burning all at the same time.