Quotes About Seduction

My fingers are wet. I haven't even got passed your panties yet.

Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness.

La seño ra Westenra

will make you my mistress," he said.

And it doesnt really matter if intelligence exists because it is really about the look, the idea of a girl like this, the promise of sex. It's all about the lure.

Owing to the seductive nature of machines, we assume that technological advances are always improvements and always beneficial to humans.

Flirtation, seduction, falling in love, and the whole romantic realm take place in a dreamy, trancelike state, alternating between hope and fear. One minute you think you may be rejected; the next minute you're excited about succeeding.

You would fancy any man who gave you baklava, I tease. You think I am some kind of sharmuta for sweets?

Su ingenuidad y su bondad parecían convertirlo en un imán irresistible para mujeres que devoraban hombres para desayunar y después escupían los restos

I've never understood sexy lingerie. I mean, what's the point? The guy's only going to take it off.

A sedução do maravilhoso embota nossas faculdades críticas.

the carefully cultivated moral seriousness—strenuousness might be a better word—coexisted with a fantastical, mrs. jellyby–like absurdity. sontag's complicated and charismatic sexuality was part of this comic side of her life. the high-mindedness, the high-handedness, commingled with a love of gossip, drollery, and seductive acting out—and, when she was in a benign and unthreatened mood, a fair amount of ironic self-knowledge.

Teasingly she took the apple from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. I will have to admit though, that I will never look at an apple in quite the same way.

Wir müssen verführerisch sein, sonst sind wir gar nichts.

Wir müssen verführerisch sein, sonst sind wir gar nichts. (S.103)

Rufus? He's a grand kisser, and he's dead sexy.

When it came to kissing, Harlow was the best.

Leather and lace is such a sexy combination.

Mircea must have heard us come in, but he continued what he was doing. He stood with his back to us, the candlelight on his bare skin causing his muscles to fall into sharp relief. He'd washed the river gunk out of his hair and now he threw it back, the water droplets shimmering in the light. The scene looked for all the world like a really good romance novel cover.

And then Mircea finally let me down, only to get his hands inside the coat and push me against the wall. "I'm dirty," I protested. He waggled his eyebrows. "Promise?" "Mircea!" I laughed in spite of myself…

I leaned back in my chair, stretching luxuriantly, delibrately letting my jacket fall open. Predictably, his eyes moved down my body-some things outlast even the change. I grinned and he looked away, a rueful smile twitching at his lips. I finished breakfast in peace.

My body cheerfully informed me that he felt really good pressed against me like that, all hard muscles and smooth contours and ominous bulges. My body liked the air of barely leashed strength and caged mayhem he was giving off. My body thought he smelled really good, like heat and coffee and electricity. My body was going to get me killed.

Mircea leaned over to refill my wineglass, and a section of his bare chest showed under the robe, along with a hint of dusky nipple. It's a good thing I'm too stuffed to move, I thought hazily. I would so have jumped that.

It was the first time he'd persuaded a girl into bed by mentioning the possibility of fleas.