Quotes About Sensuality

I could live naked... I love it.

I definitely love women. They are more attractive to the naked eye.

I like to take afternoon naps in the nude.

Women always said he was warm. They snuggled with him in bed, grateful for the heat. A couple of his lovers even claimed that, when he was inside them, he heated them from the inside out. A pleasant flattery, perhaps, but one Hope would discover the truth of. For when she touched him, he did burn.

I could write an epic poem about your thighs." "That would amuse polite society rather too much, and I wouldn't like that." "I wouldn't either." She pressed her cheek to his belly. "I can't think of a word to rhyme with marble column.

She made him think, she made him feel, she made him want. He wanted to warm his hands on her, hold her against him until she filled him with her light—and he filled her with himself.

This was what MacLean did to her; he made her blood pump through her veins, made her see and breathe and think as she had never done before, made every sense revel in the celebration of life.

the hollow just beneath his throat. And then the curve of his shoulder.

The sensuality, delicacy of literature does not exist for me; only the passion, energy and struggle… Most of my friends deplore this: they are always telling me what I should leave out in order to have success. But I know that nothing has more success in the end than an intelligent ferocity.

Sex was a practiced art to him. Each move calculated. His brain always worked while he performed, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target. But in one moment, everything had changed. She swept him into a tidal wave of pure sensation, and he willingly let go and let her take him with her.

Francesca took a navy blue sheath from a hanger and held it up. This is darling, Gabriel. Don't you love it? You're right, I think we need to concentrate on much more feminine articles of clothing. He reached around her and fingered the soft material. Where is the rest of it? He was very serious, his dark eyes searching her face for signs she was teasing.

I need you right now, Shea. My body is going up in flames, and I hurt like hell. We have to be alone soon or I might die." Her laughter muffled against his chest. "No one has ever died because they wanted to make love." But she wasn't sure. Her own body was burning and begging for the connection to his. Gregori suddenly materialized, made a soft, sighing noise, and sent them a clear frown. Like guilty children they broke apart.

I want you like this,crying out for me to release you but wanting it to go on for all eternity, he whispered against her skin. Pleading with me to end this, begging me to never stop. It is there in your mind.I hear you, see your fantasies.I know each of them, and I will fulfill every one.

Her body had been asleep but now it was wide awake and very aware of every inch of the Iceman. She'd already nicknamed him and thought of him as 'her' Iceman, even if it was just in her fantasies.

He tasted like love to her. Like everything sensual. Dark, dangerous and wholly wonderful.

His mouth came down on hers and then he was just possessing her. Taking her over. Leaving her with nothing of herself because she burned up in the fire he generated.

He knew as much as he was deliberately seducing her, she was doing the same for him, although innocently. She wasn't in the least trying and his body was already hers and always would be.

She knew every scar, every tattoo. She had traced every one of those scars and tattoos with her tongue. With her fingertips. She'd memorized them until they were etched so deeply in her brain, she could have drawn them and gotten every detail perfect.

Kissing is so amazing," she admitted, settling into his arms again. "I think I could get addicted to it quite easily." "I am already addicted to kissing you," he said, his tone low. "So let's clarify, just in case we run into one of those not so nice things about my character. Kissing me is amazing. It would be very deadly for anyone else.

Tempest liked the feeling of strength in Darius's hand, the heat of his body warming hers, the easy, fluid way he moved with the suggestion of tightly leashed power. Most of all she loved the way his eyes burned possessively over her, the way his chiseled, perfect mouth tempted her.

The woman was sexy, lethal and very confident. The sound of her laughter was enticing. Intriguing. It played along his nerve endings and sent an electrical current running through his bloodstream. He was on the verge of death and he'd never felt more alive.

There you go, getting all protective on me. You're worried about me, aren't you? His voice practically purred at her, a sensual mixture of possession, desire and something else - affection. Dio, bambino, I love that.

Her body clenched with hot desire, and without thinking she bathed Jacques' mind in her heat. She saw his body hunch, as if someone had physically punched him. Guilt stirred for a moment, but then he was stroking her throat, his mental touch every bit as exciting in her state of arousal as his physical one. Gregori straightened up slowly and inhaled sharply, turned to glare at Jacques.

Ilya. His name came out a raspy whisper. A plea to save her from herself. His head lowered, his silky hair brushing over her skin like caressing fingers. His lips brushed over her neck just below her ear, tongue licking wickedly, teeth scraping, sending her nerve endings into shock. He lifted his head again, his gaze, hot and hungry, colliding with her desperate one. Kiss me, Joley. Stop running and kiss me.