Best 1113 quotes in «sexy quotes» category

One-night stands are grand & all. But it hardly gives a man time to learn what a woman really likes.” I lower my voice. “Like from the way you squealed when I fingered you from behind, I’m wondering how you’d feel if it was my cock taking you that way, hard and fast, my hips slamming into your sweet, freckled ass…. But of course, now we’ll never know.” She stares at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “Yeah,” she says faintly. “I guess so.

One should never believe the words I speak.

Owen felt like he was bearing witness to the birth of someone new, like watching the rising of a phoenix or a snake shedding an ill-fitting skin. She hadn't taken her clothes off with the aim to seduce him, and that made the act even more enticing... Awareness, a new state of herself, that was what she was after, and in it she was glorious.

Pandora opened the box with the new high-heels, put them on and went out to town.

People called me, Lobo, which was Spanish for wolf.

Perhaps I was being picky, but I really didn’t think being able to spell orgasm without being spotted a vowel was asking too much.

Please, Sir, make it hurt.

Pru had gotten under his skin, and like her, he wanted more. So much more. He wanted to know her secrets, the ones that sometimes put those shadows in her eyes. He wanted to know what made her tick. And more than anything, he wanted to taste her again. Every inch of her.

Pleasure and pain. That was my Melody. She was my poison so toxic, when sampled, yet, so sweet...

Promise me you won’t run off in fear.

Saxon and I had no business even attempting any type of relationship with each other. We were gunpowder and one hell of a spark, and I wasn't about to test our combustibility.

Put your mouth on mine, Little Raven. I’m ready for a taste of lemon cake,” he said in a deep and tumbling voice. “Maybe I’m not so sweet,” I whispered, wetting my lower lip with a sweep of my tongue. Logan’s eyes followed every movement, and he licked his lips in response. “I want your mouth… on my mouth. Do it, or else I’ll have to find something else to kiss.

Quit looking at me like that or I swear I’m going to spank that pretty little mouth of yours with my lips,” said Jack in a tone only Kate could hear.

Rose looked down to the sheet of paper, saw a number and where to sign. Butch was holding out a pen for her to take. When she reached for the pen her fingers grazed lightly against his. She felt it. She saw it. The tiniest arc of electricity. It was as if flint and steel met, just waiting for the right moment to spark the dry tinder into a burning inferno.

Robert, what are you doing? I'm cooking.’ ‘I like to thank the chef for the excellent food.’ ‘But surely that is done at the end of the meal.’ ‘What a good idea, I'll thank you later … as it should be done.

Say it for me, Rainy. No other man.

Putting his mouth close to her ear, he said, “I’m going to ride you raw, baby, but you won’t care. It’s going to feel so good, all you’ll be able to think about is getting me back inside you. Keeping me here, packed up tight and deep, screwing into you so hard you go hoarse from your screams . . .

Rachel slips off the bed and stands before him to rearrange his collar, aware that in this small gesture there is a quality acutely other than motherly, sisterly, companionable, and that, in this moment, everything ever intended for her, for them, has begun, that the beginning is in the rearrangement of his collar and not the first kiss they share now, Zach recovering his wind as quickly as he lost it, a Great Northern Diver resurfacing. Zach clasps his hands round her ears, steps into her body and breathes the very air from her lungs. His teeth scrape against hers and he rests his open mouth against her face, gasping for air, his eyes squeezed shut as in great pain. And Rachel and Zachariah are born. Now truly they are born. 'Zachariah, Zachariah,' whispers Rachel. 'My fighting man.

Reading,” I said. “Books. It’s pretty sexy. I like women who read.” - Rip

Ruger was over six feet tall, roped with muscle and annoyingly handsome in an I’m-probably-a-murderer-but-I’ve-got-dimples-and-a-tight-ass-so-you’ll-still-lust-after-me kind of way.

Say my name." "No." She tipped her head up, her breath sawing out of her lungs. “Don’t stop, please.” He languidly stroked her. “I won’t stop, but I won’t take you there unless you say it.” Her voice locked in her throat. He stroked into her again at the same time giving her the pressure she desired with his thumb. “I have all night.

Seems where you’re concerned nothing is easy, so no, I’m not making this easy when everything about you makes me hard.” I sucked in sharply at that blatant sexual reference, and swear I felt my nipples get hard. “Jack, I—

Sein braungebrannter Oberkörper war noch ein wenig feucht und Wasser tropfte von seinen langen dunklen Haaren auf seine Haut. Ich biss mir auf die Unterlippe, was die einzige Bewegung war, zu der ich fähig war. Mir war klar, dass ich ihn peinlicherweise jetzt genau wie die Schlampen im Club wollüstig anschmachtete, aber ich konnte nichts dagegen tun. Eigentlich sollte ich wirklich gehen, aber ich konnte nicht. Außerdem, hatte er mich nicht schon einmal genau so im Badezimmer beobachtet? Also war es nur fair. Er war so verdammt gut anzusehen und mein Körper reagierte wie der jeder Frau bei diesem Anblick. Mir wurde heiß, nicht nur im Gesicht, sondern überall, vor allem weiter unten. Dabei hatte ich ihn schon in seinen Badeshorts gesehen, aber dennoch, das hier war etwas komplett anderes. Was noch schlimmer wurde, als er das Tuch von der Hüfte löste und begann, damit seine Haare zu rubbeln. Unter der Haut bewegten sich die Muskeln seines Rückens, die hinunter zur schmalen Hüfte verliefen. Mein Blick ging noch tiefer und ich hatte keine Spucke mehr im Mund, als ich seinen Po betrachtete. Unwillkürlich krallte ich die Finger in meine Shorts, was zur Folge hatte, dass mir das Handy aus der Hand rutschte und auf den Boden fiel. Der Teppich war dick und dämpfte das Geräusch, aber man konnte es dennoch deutlich hören. Instinktiv wollte ich die Augen zusammenpressen, so wie kleine Kinder, die sich nur mit dem Gesicht hinter einem Vorhang versteckten, und glauben, wenn sie den anderen nicht sehen konnten, dann würden sie auch nicht gesehen werden. Was natürlich nicht der Fall war. Daher schluckte ich und sah wieder hoch und – wie erwartet – in Johnnys Gesicht, als er über die Schulter blickte. Und was ich in seinen tiefblauen Augen lodern sah, erregte mich stärker und machte mir gleichzeitig mehr Angst, als alles zuvor. Meine Augen blieben an seinen haften, auch als ich aus den Augenwinkeln bemerkte, wie er das Handtuch wieder um die Hüfte legte. Langsam drehte er sich um und beinahe raubtierhaft zielstrebig kam er auf mich zu, wie ein geschmeidiger Panther, den nichts stoppen konnte. Kurz vor mir blieb er stehen, als würde er warten, ob ich davonlief oder nicht. Auf keinen Fall, jetzt nicht mehr. Zu keinem Zeitpunkt hatte er den Blickkontakt zu mir unterbrochen, er musste meine Gedanken darin gelesen haben. Seine Hände umfassten mein Gesicht, strichen mir halbfeuchte Haare aus der Stirn und dann beugte er sich zu mir hinab. Ich hielt den Atem an, wartete auf seine Lippen, die sich aber nicht auf meine legten, sondern einen Zentimeter vorher verharrten. Als würde er noch immer auf meine Entscheidung warten. Mir wurde klar, dass ich diese schon lange getroffen hatte, nur viel zu feige und engstirnig gewesen war, sie mir auch einzugestehen. Ich griff in seine nassen Haare und zog ihn das verbleibende Stück zu mir hinunter. Ein Blitzschlag fuhr von meinen Lippen ausgehend durch meinen Körper, zwischen meine Beine – dann war es um mich und meine Selbstbeherrschung geschehen. Und wie es aussah, auch um seine. Denn statt weiterhin so sanft mein Gesicht zu halten, rutschten seine Hände meinen Rücken entlang bis er an meiner Hüfte angelangt war und sie fest drückte. Wie von selbst bog sich ihm mein Körper entgegen und ich strich mit der Zunge über seine Lippen, dann öffnete ich den Mund für seine und unser Kuss wurde fordernder. Seine Hände glitten noch weiter hinunter, umfassten meinen Po und während wir uns keuchend küssten, hob er mich mit einem Ruck hoch. Meine Beine schlang ich um seine Hüfte und unter dem Tuch konnte ich ihn spüren, was mir ein Stöhnen entlockte, das mir noch nie über die Lippen gekommen war. Daraufhin gab Johnny einen erstickten Laut von sich, küsste mein Kinn, meinen Hals und knabberte am Ohr, an dem er heiser flüsterte: »Sag mir, dass ich aufhören soll.« »Hör nicht auf«, bat ich leise und drückte mich nur noch fester an ihn.

Sensuality, essentially, means falling in love with details that make you feel luscious.

Sexy women should embrace their allure, not shy away from it like the unsexy would want you to. If you are blessed with curves, show them off by all means! - Kailin Gow, Kailin Gow's Go Girl Beauty

Shane was just leaving, too.” “What?” he cried. I slammed my palms flat against his body. Dear God, there were some nice ridges hiding under that shirt! My hands slid up to his pecks and pushed. “Yeah. You have to go now.” “Are you for real?” he asked. He was slowly backing his way through the room, but it had nothing to do with the strength of my push…or lack thereof. “Very. I can’t. I need to sleep on this.” With a wicked smile, he flattened his hands over mine and sassed, “I’m all for you sleeping on me. Let’s go.

Sexy is a decision. We decide that our spouse looks sexy to us. Period. It doesn’t matter our age or how long we’ve been together.

She dreamed of autumn. Of chilly autumn winds and soft fall rains. She could even feel the cool moisture as the rain drops touched her face and ran down her cheeks.

She'd never stood a chance. She was a good girl, raised on the bible and charm school. She was destined to long for the thrill of the unattainable and nobody was more unattainable to a good girl than the bad boy.

She’d set herself up to fail. On purpose. In the most basic way a woman can. I shaved my bikini line and wore my best underwear.

She felt the adagio from Joaquin Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez strumming at her inner thighs like a guitar, and then slowly moving upwards until it wrapped around her heart in its denouement.

She'd stutter all the reasons why she shouldn't, shaking her head adamantly. But her body..her body would grow hot with excitement. She'd get wet at the thrill of it. So fucking wet that i'd smell her, telling me she's not even wearing panties to smother her spicy scent. When my hand touched hers, still clutched to her chest, she'd flinch but she wouldn't pull away. She'd let me guide it between her swollen breasts and down to her flat belly, brushing the bit of exposed skin where the hem of her shirt rides up. Then I'd let her fingers play with the jewel in her navel, manipulating each digit as if that diamond-studded barbell was her clit. Demonstrating how I would stroke it for her.

She felt him smile against her neck and bit down, the sensation sending shivers through her. “Bad girl. If you keep doing that, I’ll have you stripped and on your back before you can blink.

She is 25. Whereas Pauline at forty undresses in the darkness and drapes herself languorously with a sheet or towel, Blanche stretches naked on her back under the electric light, her left knee raised, her right foot resting on it, examining her wriggling toes. She flings out her arm and flicks ash in the vague direction of the ashtray.

She held her hand out in front of her. “Wait.” “No,” I groaned and then cleared my throat. “I mean okay, I can wait.

She looks me dead in the face and says, “The safe word is going to be ‘immigration,’ because you know I’ll stop it.

She put a spoonful of mint chocolate chip in her mouth. [...] "Let me try it." She held her bowl toward him, but he didn't put his spoon in it. He trailed his fingers over her jaw as he tipped her head back and sealed his lips over hers. His tongue speared into her mouth, and the salt of him mixed with the flavor of the ice cream. She didn't know if she was mortified, shocked, aroused or all three.

She pulled a chair to the tiny table "I'm starving." "So am I," he answered, but when she glanced up he was looking at her and not the food.

She's a slinky sort of person, no angles at all; and magnetic - you can't take your eyes off her. She's dressed like a Westerner, but her eyes have a slant to them. They are the eyes of an Easterner. She doesn't walk like our women do, she seems to writhe all in one piece - undulates is the word. ("Kiss Of The Cobra")

She pulled away from Eric's grasp, knelt before Brian and looked up at him. "Let me suck you off," she said. "Please.

She stared stupidly into his eyes, thinking about how very much she’d like to make that noise again…with him.

She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for relief. Aiming for completion without doing something so deliberate as touching herself. Look ma, no hands!

She wants her freedom.

She was not only a female, but a damned beautiful one.A gentleman would have turned away the moment he realized what was happening." ~Alex Kerr

She was in his arms. Laurent’s arms! He spun her around and set her back down again in the space of three seconds, then stepped back and slid his hands into his pockets. His face looked flushed under his tan, but she was still reeling from being touched, her mind pulling in a hundred different directions at once. Laurent smelled good. He felt good. He was so unbelievably beyond her level. Oh my God... I’m totally falling for him.

She wasn’t all over me because of some bad-boy fetish or because she wanted to be arm candy for Eastside’s resident badass. For the first time in my life, someone looked at me and saw…me.

She was tipping her head back to inquire, when two men entered the great hall and the question flew right out of her head. They were simply two of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. Twins, though different. They were both tall and powerfully built. One was taller by a few inches, with dark hair that swept just past his shoulders and eyes like shard of silver and ice while the other had long black hair falling in a single braid to his waist, and eyes as gold as Adam's torque. They were elegantly dressed in tailored clothing of dark hues, with magnificent bodies that dripped with raw sex appeal. Oh, my, she marveled, they don't amek men like these in the States. Were these typical Scotsmen? If so, she was going to have to get Elizabeth over here somehow. A connoisseur of romance novels, Elizabeth's favorites were the Scottish ones, and these two men looked as if they'd just stepped straight off one of those covers. "Try not to gape, ka-lyrra. They're only human. Mortal. Puny. And married. Both of them. Happily.

Shh, kitten,” he whispered in English once more, nuzzling her temple, mouth open and hot against her ear. “Trust me.” His palms curved beneath her breasts, lifting them as his blunt fingertips tweaked her nipples expertly enough to have slickness gathering between her clenched thighs. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever touched. Une ange, bébé.” He groaned quietly as he caught her earlobe between his teeth. “Je t’adore,” he muttered, thrusting against her backside.

Shhh, no more talking Em, Ethan whispered.

Sincerity is sexy, and my cynical heart notices.