Quotes About Sensuality

Poetry must be simple, sensuous, or impassioned.

good as sex.

played her body like an instrument

Stolen kisses are always sweetest.

There are over a thousand nerves in the human body, Shane, and you are on every last one of mine

I'm just thinking that would be pleasant. To be reading, say, out of a book, and you to come up and touch me – my neck, say, or my knee – and I'd carry on reading, I might let a smile, no more, wouldn't lose my place on the page. It would be pleasant to come to that. We'd come so close, do you see, that I wouldn't be surprised out of myself every time you touched.

Marie chose a parfum and touched her neck with its crystal stopper, trailing it along the length of her neck. She breathed in one of Danielle's finest aldehydic parfums blended of Bulgarian rose and jasmine absolute. It was a masterpiece, with a mysterious, warm sillage of amber and vanilla, extracted from the seed pods of a vining orchid. The result was modern, stylish, and sensual- Danielle's aromatic hallmark.

I've been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.

He turned and pulled her in, placed his hands on the sides of her face and gazed into her eyes, his head moving closer and closer----she still couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything other than his mouth landing on hers.

It was everything I had dreamed of, his hands snaking through my hair, my own wrapped around his back, unable to believe I had been given license to touch this boy I had loved for so long, license to hold him, to slip my tongue in his mouth, listen to him sigh with pleasure.

She made love to break love.

she stretched and yawned, a suggestion of desire informing all her nerves. Extraordinary…not that she should feel desire but that she should not have felt it, consciously, for years.

I thought about having sex with Jess Clark and I could feel my flesh turn electric at these thoughts, cold feel sensation gather at my nipples, could feel my vagina relax and open, could feel my lips and fingertips grow sensitive enough to know their own shapes.

He [Ranger] peeled my [Stephanie] clothes off and wrangled me into bed. And then suddenly he was inside me. He once told me that time spent with him would ruin me for all other men. When he said it, I thought it was an outrageous threat. I no longer though it outrageous.

And the closest I've come to an out-of-body experience was when Joe Morelli took his mouth to me fourteen years ago, behind the eclair case.

Ranger stood and stretched, his black T-shirt rode up, and I caught a glimpse of two inches of brown skin and hard abs and almost had an orgasm. "Babe," he said. "Are you okay?" "Yep. Why?" "You sort of moaned." "Gas." "Understandable." We took the elevator to the lobby and looked in at the bar. Filled with men speaking Russian.

He slid an arm around me and pulled me to him. I rested my head on his chest, and he nuzzled my hair and kissed me just above the ear.

Ranger was definitely wow. He stood half a head taller than me. He was perfectly toned muscle, and he had classic Latino good looks. He always smelled great. He dressed only in black. His eyes were dark. His hair was dark. His life was dark. Ranger had lots of secrets.

Nice tackle, babe," he said. And then he kissed me. No doubt about the intention this time. Not the sort of kiss you'd give your cousin, for instance. More like the sort of kiss a man would give a woman when he wanted to rip her clothes off and give her a reason to sing the Hallelujah Chorus.

He grabbed me by my jacket lapels, pulled me to him, and kissed me. His tongue touched mine and I got a rush that was just a millimeter below climax. His hands slid inside my jacket and circled my waist. He was hard against me. And suddenly nothing mattered but a Ranger-induced orgasm. I wanted one. Now. The hell with Eddie DeChooch. One of these days he'd drive himself into a bridge abutment and that'd be the end of that.

He pulled me toward him, lowered his mouth to mine, and kissed me. The kiss was slow and deep. His hands were firm on my back. I grasped his shirt and leaned into him. And I felt his body respond.

Ranger released my ponytail but kept a hand on my neck. I tried to act calm, but his touch was humming through me all the way to my toes and points in between.

He opened two blouse buttons and traced a line along the top of my bra with his fingertip. He bent his head, brushed a kiss across my breast, and slipped his hand inside my bra. I think I might have moaned a little, and I steadied myself by sliding my hand up the inside of his thigh. It turns out that just because I think I could have a future with Morelli doesn't mean I'm entirely immune to Ranger's hotness.

Ranger unlocked my door, pulled me to him, and kissed me. The kiss started out gentle and finished with enough heat to raise the temperature in the hallway by ten degrees.