Quotes About Sensuality

Emotionally detach, she ordered herself, no matter that he smells good and has a body you want to lick like an ice cream cone.

I'm ready, she promised. She kissed his jaw and then rubbed her cheek against it, letting out a low hum of arousal at the feel of his stubble on her skin. He had a scent that every single one of her senses responded to. The texture of his skin, the taste of his tongue, the latent strength in his hands - everything about him did it for her. I want this, she said. I want you.

This had already been the best sex she'd ever had and all he'd done was touch her.

With another of those sexy laughs, he kissed her. Really kissed her, nothing sweet or questioning about it this time. She moaned, closed a fist in his hair, and did the only thing she could: held on for the best kiss of her life.

One ravishing dark-haired beauty wearing leather pants and strategically applied electrical tape, stared hard at me and, when she saw me looking, licked her lips very, very slowly. She trailed a fingertip over her chin, down across her throat, and down over her sternum and gave me a smile so wicked that it's parents should have sent it to military school.

She kissed me again, and I returned it in kind, and it was a liquid, smooth thing, as restrained and desperate as the near-still surface of a rushing river.

What does a woman need to do, Harry? Rip her clothes off, throw herself on top of you, and shimmy while screaming Do me, baby!? - Thomas Raith

I wanted to drive her mad with need, to fill my senses with her warmth, her cries, her scent. I wanted to forget everything arrayed against me, even if it was just for a little while, and bare her an inch at a time. The emptiness that her warmth had begun to fill howled at me to let go.

How could this nasty twerp be so ferally sexual dressed nearly as a boy?

He's quite a thinker. I stood up and started to take off my clothes. He got down on the floor. We really went to town all evening and I sent him home before midnight.

I pressed her thigh and death smiled

Cineama, heir of alchemy, The last erotic science

We need great golden copulations

That's what she keeps you around for, to diddle her fiddle. Because you're low-hung and she's high-strung!

If it's only a kiss you want, I can kiss you with my clothes on." —Katie O'Reilly to Captain Lord Blackthorn

I thought about the way we danced, close.

So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.

I wanted him to feel what I felt when I was with him: that incredible combination of comfort, decadence, and wonder; the knowledge that, with just a single taste of him, I was addicted.

During the night he'd kicked off a sock; his toes were plump as early peas; it was all she could do not to taste his caramel skin. So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him,you swallowed him whole. Love was sustenance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.

Why is it that only in the very beginnings of a relationship are you aware of the heat coming from inside a person, of the number of inches you would have to move for your shoulders to brush as if it were an accident?

Being pissed off in church is like being sad during sex.

Omg. Just shut up and kiss me.

Your voice makes me tremble inside, And your smile is an invitation, For my imagination to go wild.

He smelled the way a man should smell when he was in your bed and working hard for it.