Quotes About Seduction

She growled. He gave her a considering look. "That's almost sexy.

She was hot, he was a man; not being attracted would have been impossible. That gleaming dark hair tempted a man to find out what it would look like released from its tight bun. She had toned, endless legs. Her li8ps were distracting, especially that teasing mole in the corner. She could give a dead monk a boner.

Do I intimidate you?" "I am not going to answer that." He merely smiled, knowingly, and let his gaze slide heatedly down her throat . . . over her collarbone . . . to her breasts, tingling with fire beneath their bombazine shield. "I mean it, Morninghall." "Really, Lady Simms. Do you think I'm going to leap out of this chair and —" he lifted one wicked eyebrow — "ravish you?

Yes, and Satan was able to charm Eve before he brought about man's downfall, too." "Satan was once an angel of God." "I am no angel.

What about your reputation, then? Are you saying that yours is false, too?" "On the contrary." He looked up and gave her his wicked, charming grin. "I'm every bit the blackhearted rake you've heard that I am. I eat ladies' hearts for supper and spit them out in the morning. More cornbread, my dear?

Well?" he said, arching a dark brow. "Well, what?" "I don't bite." "Oh. I was waiting for you to make the first move." "I have. Your gown is conveniently unfastened. Or had you not noticed?

Come, now, dear lady." His hand, a broad, and callused hand—a man's hand—slid over her silky sheets in a way that was calculated to suggest that same masterful hand roving over her equally silky flesh. He gave a slow, heated grin that sent the temperature of her blood soaring to new heights. "Don't make me come over there and get you . . .

Ah, such pluck, such fire! Indeed, madam, I will touch you . . . but were you to go down without a fight, I should be sadly disappointed. . . So, indulge yourself, Maeve, and"—his fingers caught her collar and pulled it downward, exposing her neck and shoulders to his mouth—"fight.

My deepest desire . . . is to sink my dagger into your heart and watch you . . . die." "And mine is to sink my dagger into your sweet woman's flesh and watch you writhe with pleasure." His lips were moving lower, toward that creamy swell of flesh above the closure of her shirt. Maeve's heart began to pound, and the room was suddenly too hot, far too hot. "Shall we have a contest to see who wins?

There he was, leaning with casual insolence against a magnificent mantle of carved Italian marble, a glass of brandy dangling from his fingertips. He was a dark angel, some brooding god of judgment, and as he turned his black, smoldering gaze upon her, Juliet felt her courage falter.

I want to seduce my viewers and be able to hold them with the work. Much of that is done in terms of formalist ideas that I bring to the work.

Much of reality TV has been like the worst nightmares of Theodor Adorno and Jean Baudrillard come true, its seductive allure turning us into gossips in the global village.

It's the aspirations that capitalism is promoting as beautiful, positive attributes that are dangerous. All that is in the bedrooms of the poor and in the villages of the Third World, and it's like a cruel carrot that's being waved in front of people's noses. It's a seduction, an unattainable dream.

Most virtue is a demand for greater seduction.

He stole her breath, as stealthily as a pickpocket slipping a silk handkerchief from a pocket, a bracelet from around a wrist, a ring off a finger. So the object was gone before the wearer realized it was taken. One moment she was breathing, and the next she'd quite simply forgotten how.

Beauty and seduction, I believe, is nature's tool for survival, because we will protect what we fall in love with.

Your lips are like sugar And your cheeks an apple Your breasts are paradise And your body a lily. O, to kiss the sugar To bite the apple To reveal paradise And open the lily.

Wat is er aanlokkender, geheimzinniger, duivelser dan een verboden boek?

Ik wentelde me naar hem toe en legde me met wijdgeopende muis over z'n stijve boodschapper neer. Ik zei hem dat ik z'n fluit wou, dat ik er heet naar lag, dat ik ze binnen in me kut moest hebben. Me muis heeft honger naar je stijve zaadworst, zei ik hem. Ik weet niet wat ik d'r allemaal nog uitflapte (...)

That's why I'm in love with you. You turn me on without even trying.

Feel that? I don't walk around with a lead pipe in my jeans, so what do you think that tells you about how much I want you. (Simon Brant)

If you don't stop, I'm going to take you right here, in front of God, Jacob, and the seagulls.

the corporate system that animates all the forces who would block the progress of a true pilgrim bound for the Celestial City. Vanity Fair is the City of Destruction, the world, dressed in its best party dress. It is the place where the most seductive attractions of the world take center stage in an attempt to steal our gaze, cool our resolve, and shake our confidence, which is to be in the God who is the maker and builder of the yet unseen city. 6.

Big dinners make me drowsy so let's do the sex part first.