Best 1113 quotes in «sexy quotes» category

Trying to cool his jets, trying to let her stay in charge, he attempted to hold back, but she let out this breathy little whimper like he was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

Tyler. His handsome, lion-eyed ravagement. His capacity for devotion. Which is so sexy. Why do so many gay men lack that? Why are they so distracted, so in love with the idea of more and more and then more, again?

...unlike Aretha, [Al Green's] only rival vocally, Al never sold himself short in the studio. Where the albums follow the vagaries of genius, the hits exploit Al's personal production line, every one a perfect soul record and a perfect pop record in whatever order suits your petty little values. Brashly feminine and seductively woman-friendly, he breaks free in a register that darts and floats and soars into falsetto with startling frequency and beguiling ease. He's so gorgeous, so sexy, so physically attractive that only masochists want to live without him.

Until that night, she’d categorized multiple orgasms with unicorns, the Holy Grail, and free parking.

Vin is sweet and hard, gentle and tough all at once. And it thrills me that he’s mine.

Vladimir stood next to one of the beams on the back porch of our new home, leaning on his back. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, Marlboro Reds which were his favorites, and he lit one up. He was dressed all in black; black skinny jeans, black studded belt, black tennis shoes, black v neck shirt and he had the hood of his black jacket up over his head. He looked cool and collected, and somewhat villainous.” -Nina Jean Slack, Once Lost, Forever Found (Vol. #1)

Virgo is the smell of nature, but in a sexy way.

Wait," I said as Noah slipped a book from a shelf and headed toward the door. "Where are you going?" "To read?" But I don't want you to. "But I need to go home," I said, my eyes meeting his. "My parents are going to kill me." "Taken care of. You're at Sophie's house." I loved Sophie. "So I'm...staying here?" "Daniel's covering for you." I loved Daniel. "Where's Katie?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Eliza's house." I loved Eliza. "And your parents?" I asked. "Some charity thing." I loved charity. "So why are you going to read when I'm right here?

Want my spend, Precious?" Shane shuddered, the pleasure from his ass streaking to his balls and then to his untouched cock. "Please. Yes. I--" "I would give you the world.

Watching him, his hands buried in his pockets—to keep from circling her neck she supposed—she couldn't help but marvel at the curious mix of Southern courtesy and male arrogance, the natural assumption he shouldered of being lawfully in control. "Engaging in a moral battle isn't always hazardous to one's health, you know." "Doesn't look like it's doing wonders for yours." "Saints be praised, it can actually be rewarding." Looking over his shoulder, he halted in the middle of the room. "Irish." "I beg your pardon?" "You. Irish. The green eyes, the tiny bit of red in your hair. Is Connor your real name?" "Yes, why..." she said, stammering. Bloody hell. "Of course." "Liar." She felt the slow, hot roll of color cross her cheeks. "What could that possibly have to do with anything?" "I don't know, but I have a feeling it means something. It's the first I've heard come out of that sassy mouth of yours that didn't sound like some damned speech." He tapped his head, starting to pace again. "What I wonder is, where are you in there?

Watching Abby own my brothers--hand after hand was turning me on. I'd never seen a woman so sexy in my life, and this one happened to be my girlfriend.-pg 257/ARC

We all came to watch her die.

We all know sex sells, but sexy does not always translate to authority. Be aware and beware of those only presenting the sexy imagery that entices without the skilled expertise to back it up.

We can go somewhere more private if you’d like… Buck” I whisper softly in his ear, pulling back almost as slowly as the wicked grin spreads across my face. His perverse smile hides nothing. I have him now, hook, line and zipper.

We are only victims if we allow ourselves to be.

We just watched the egg. At first, it seemed like it'd be okay. But then a crack wiggled its way from the bottom to the top, and the insides took their cue, oozing out with a definitive blurp. "My, my," Pascal said. We watched as the white spread fast and loose, while the bright orange yolk moved with purpose, like a paramecium. "Kinda sexy, no?" he remarked, more to the egg than to me, but I blushed four thousand degrees anyway. Oh. My. God.

We do not know whether I am making love to you or you are making love to me. The experience is so completely mutual. It feels awesome. I wish it could last forever.

Weed etiquette rule - whoever rolls the joint, gets the first hit.

We filled the night air with light and shone brighter than all those millions of glittering stars watching us from the sky.

We fell into each other’s arms and kissed like we were coming up for air after being underwater for days. The melding of our mouths was sweeter than oxygen. We took huge, deep gulps of each other as we struggled with worldly constraints like clothing and gravity, seeking to transcend it all in our coming together.

Well I guess I should ask what your name is in case I slip and touch you without getting permission, I'd like to know who's punching me." She giggled and said, "Nah, you have permission but if you need a name it’s Sindy, S-I-N, not like the girl next door, and what should I call you, besides the man I want to get naked?” He said “Keith, and if you want me to be the boy next door I can try, but I’ll probably fail.” She said- “Nope the boy next door is too much like the one whose nose I just tried to break; you can be the sexy stranger.

Well then..." I clear my throat once. "You are a fantastic actor," I say, breathless, and emotionally drugged up on Mr. Sexdorable.

We made love... and sushi.

We made love. Extraordinary love.

We tangle and merge. Love and let go. No one will ever know her like I do. I’ve touched every inch of skin. I’ve explored every part of her being. I love her shy when I pull her to my hips, my lap. I love her present uncertainty for things she knows how to do so fucking good. I love her pink flushed skin all over.

We told Mom about the Anne Frank House, leaving out the kissing. "Did you go back to chez Van Houten afterward?" Mom asked. Augustus didn't even give me time to blush. "Nah, we just hung out at a café. Hazel amused me with some Venn diagram humor." He glanced at me. God, he was sexy.

We were a galaxy exploding into a million pieces, creating a whole new world, as we crashed against each other on the soft surface of his mattress, a cloud in the darkness, our bodies finally falling together like rain.

What are you most scared of?” she asked and I wished she hadn’t. I didn’t like admitting it. “I’m scared of dying alone.

What are you doing?” I asked. “Are we getting all Fifty Shades up in here?” He shushed me. “Nothing that dangerous. You won’t need a safe word.

Whatcha do to Ricky Ricardo? Found him talking real fast in Spanish." "Nothing." She looked at Tony. "He's just moody, and the moodier he gets, the less you can understand him.

What does a freelance researcher do?” “Researches things.” He winks at me and helps lift my bike onto a cobblestone walkway. “It’s not an interesting or particularly sexy job. Nobody wants to date a perpetual studier, but I bet there’s an army of guys crawling over each other to get to you.” More like crawling away. “You’re ridiculous. Who’d ever want to date me?” “Someone like you? There’d be a line at your door as soon as work got out.” “Oh, would you be in the line?” Sarcasm. Not a real question. I don’t care if he responds—heat burns my toes, ears, and everything in-between—well, maybe I care a little. Jack pauses and gazes into me. “Yeah … I’m in the line … and I’m better than all the other guys so you should really pick me. I’m funny. I’m strong, like, I could sweep you off your feet and run without breaking a sweat. I can also blow milk through my nose, but only if I’m drunk and the milk is warm.

What feminists will never get, is that most women get their power from being sexy, something they are just not genetically designed to achieve, or accept.

What Hans had intended to end at a simple kiss quickly escalated into something neither one of them seemed able to stop.

What if I say no?" "I keep asking till the only option is yes. I always win, Ms. Payne.

What made a movie buff different from others was the amount of freakish details they chose to fill their heads with. The typical movie-goer remembered the big lines, the ones that you could find on the film’s shirts and posters. Just a bunch of tag-lines used for promotion. A true movie buff memorized the odd ones that said more about the story’s theme or characters. A true buff read up on the movie’s history.

What’s it like to live forever? Nicholas almost dropped the glass he had been holding. “What?” “What’s it like to know you will never die?” He should have known, he thought. She was a smart woman. “Lonely.” He said answering truthfully. He sighed. “It’s not romantic, or fun, or even exciting., It’s just lonely. I have watched everyone that I have ever loved, die. My family, my friends, my lovers and neighbors. It is not a fate I would ever wish on my worst enemy.

What?” The corner of his mouth turned up, his white teeth gleaming in the light. “Just thinking how hot you are.” He scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Thanks—but aren’t all firefighters hot? I mean, we do basically live in fire.

When guys try to get a good job and make a lot of money, it's so that they can find a good mate, because they know women like guys with money. Big tits are to men, what big wallets are to women. A sexy woman can have almost any man she wants. And a rich guy can have almost any woman he wants.

When he remembered, his indrawn breath pulled her scent into his mouth, coating his tongue with her taste. He swallowed that delicious flavor as his heartbeat sped.

When I arrived at her door, with the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, she drew me into her arms and eased all my stress away. She comforted and spent time with me when she didn’t have to. She didn’t know me at all, had no idea who I was or what I intended for her, whether passion or pain. But her heart led her forward, that beautiful heart I wanted for myself. So when the moment came to kiss her, as we stood in the water at the beach, I seized it like a desperate man. I was a mad one on the edge of insanity and she was the tonic I needed.

When I came up, I chanced a look at him. A mistake. The famished, wounded set of his body hinted agony. That he was dangerous seemed secondary to how alive I became. I’d been pretty all my life, but no one had ever watched me as Mark Donahue did now— as if I were a mythical creature. I hooked my elbows over the side of the tub, nipples pressed against the slick porcelain, and crooked a finger at him. "Come here." He was on his feet immediately. I stood, naked skin steaming, smelling like Johanna's gardenias, not like Wren at all. Like someone loved and desperately needed. But he kept his distance, as if I were the dangerous one.

When it came to her, I was like an addict. And I had zero desire to kick my habit."-Ronan

When it comes to their love lives, some people do not really have high standards; they merely have low sex drive.

When she bites my lips, I see stars dancing right next to the sun.

When she comes down to supper I don't like her any better; in fact, a hell of a lot less. She's put on a shiny dress, all fishscales, like this was still India or the boat. On her head she's put a sort of beaded cap that fits close-like a hood. A mottled green-and-black thing that gleams dully in the candlelight. Not a hair shows below it, you can't tell whether she's a woman or what the devil she is. Right in front, above her forehead, there's a sort of question-mark worked into it, in darker beads. You can't be sure what it is, but it's shaped like a question mark. ("Kiss of the Cobra")

When the wolf howls and the moon dims hope fades with the waning light. Evil lurks at every turn as shadows waltz across the ebony night. Behold the midnight hour where all of reason takes flight.

When we started dating, he had been so gentle and sweet that the sudden change in his sexual proclivities to something exquisitely primal and rough was exciting. It had my already revved up libido aching for him.

When you readily throw words around like 'beautiful', 'gorgeous' and 'sexy'...Ensure the first person to hear them is the one who deserves them...

When you’re honest, what compares with the gorgeous thrill of sex? What brings you the same sense of wonder, pleasure, and fulfilment? I can’t think of anything as good.

Who am I, Joshua? Name me.