Best 233 quotes in «seduction quotes» category

Drink, drink! Bacchus is the enemy of Venus. "From The Diary Of An Orange Tree

D’une main tremblante, elle lui caressa les cheveux. Son cœur se brisait une nouvelle fois. Et ce n’était pas parce qu’il lui confiait qu’elle était la pire chose qui lui soit arrivé. Son cœur saignait pour le petit garçon qu’il avait été, entouré de richesses et pourtant si seul. Ignoré par son père, rejeté par sa belle-mère.

Edward: Bella, please stop taking your clothes off! Bella: Why? Did you wanna do that part?

Elle l'acceptait tel qu'il était. Têtu, intransigeant et dominateur.

Elle tapota légèrement ses joues pour finir de se réveiller complètement. Il fallait absolument qu’elle se lève et aille se laver. Elle bâilla longuement et l’haleine qu’elle avait lui donna la nausée. Elle se frotta les yeux et… Minute papillon ! Un objet étranger et non identifié lui griffa la paupière. Son cœur fit une embardée ce qui lui donna la force nécessaire pour ouvrir brusquement les yeux. — Merde ! éructa-t-elle en manquant s’étouffer avec sa salive. Puis elle poussa un hurlement strident.

Elle se sentait consumée par la peine et la douleur. Elle avait été si proche du bonheur.

En bon Italien, Guccio pensa que la chose serait plaisante de séduire à la fois et la fille et la mère.

― En réalité, reprit Elianor qui venait d'avoir un éclair de génie, nous sommes un couple libre. Tristan toussa si bruyamment qu'elle eut du mal à contenir son sourire. ― Je vous demande pardon ? souffla la grande brune après quelques secondes d'ébahissement. Elianor, la démarche chaloupée, alla s'installer sur l'accoudoir du fauteuil de Tristan. Elle fit courir ses doigts jusqu'à son épaule. ― Chéri, est-ce que tu lui as parlé de notre projet ? De ton fantasme avec les crochets et les pince-tétons ?

Her corset dropped to the floor, and he swept his hands up to cup her breasts. "I'm just ungentlemanly enough to prefer a woman's real flesh, Angel. I like the softness, the fullness of it. If I wanted to feel whalebone, I'd fondle a whale.

Few people paid much attention to the importance of eyes when it came to seduction, he thought. It took a Bene Gesserit upbringing to make that point. Big breasts in a woman and hard loins in a man (that tightly muscular look to the buttocks) – these were naturally important in sexual matchings. But without the eyes, the rest of it could go for nothing. Eyes were essential. You could drown in the right kind of eyes, he had learned, sink right into them and be unaware of what was being done to you [...].

For a women to wear the clothes that a man had bought her was to feel his touch with every waking moment. For a man to hear the whisper of cloth as walked, was to feel her response to him, the throb of her pulse as it intensified, the silky heat between her thighs as waited for him to unwrap her.

He knew that if Michelle entered into the walls of the Vatican, she’d corrupt every single clergyman within, causing them to forsake their vows in trade for a few moments with her. With one glance men would happily follow her to the bowels of hell and swim across the lake of fire to get to her.

[Her eyes] had taken hold of him straightaway, measuring him up and down as if they knew how; as if he were human material they had already in some sort handled.

― Est-ce une pointe de jalousie que je perçois dans ta voix ? se moqua-t-il. ― Pas du tout, c'est de la fatalité.

— Est-ce qu'il sait que tu me veux ? Et que je te veux aussi ?

Evie stayed, however, the silence spinning out until it seemed that the pounding of his heart must be audible. “Do you want to know what I think, Sebastian?” she finally asked. It took every particle of his will to keep his voice controlled. “Not particularly.” “I think that if I leave this room, you’re going to ring that bell again. But no matter how many times you ring, or how often I come running, you’ll never bring yourself to tell me what you really want.” Sebastian slitted his eyes open…a mistake. Her face was very close, her soft mouth only inches from his. “At the moment, all I want is some peace,” he grumbled. “So if you don’t mind—” Her lips touched his, warm silk and sweetness, and he felt the dizzying brush of her tongue. A floodgate of desire opened, and he was drowning in undiluted pleasure, more powerful than anything he had known before. He lifted his hands as if to push her head away, but instead his trembling fingers curved around her skull, holding her to him. The fiery curls of her hair were compressed beneath his palms as he kissed her with ravenous urgency, his tongue searching the winsome delight of her mouth. Sebastian was mortified to discover that he was gasping like an untried boy when Evie ended the kiss. Her lips were rosy and damp, her freckles gleaming like gold dust against the deep pink of her cheeks. “I also think,” she said unevenly, “that you’re going to lose our bet.” Recalled to sanity by a flash of indignation, Sebastian scowled. “Do you think I’m in any condition to pursue other women? Unless you intend to bring someone to my bed, I’m hardly going to—” “You’re not going to lose the bet by sleeping with another woman,” Evie said. There was a glitter of deviltry in her eyes as she reached up to the neckline of her gown and deliberately began to unfasten the row of buttons. Her hands trembled just a little. “You’re going to lose it with me.” Sebastian watched incredulously as she stood and shed the dressing gown. She was naked, the tips of her breasts pointed and rosy in the cool air. She had lost weight, but her breasts were still round and lovely, and her hips still flared generously from the neat inward curves of her waist. As his gaze swept to the triangle of red hair between her thighs, a swell of acute lust rolled through him. He sounded shaken, even to his own ears. “You can’t make me lose the bet. That’s cheating.” “I never promised not to cheat,” Evie said cheerfully, shivering as she slipped beneath the covers with him. “Damn it, I’m not going to cooperate. I—” His breath hissed between his teeth as he felt the tender length of her body press against his side, the springy brush of her private curls on his hip as she slid one of her legs between his. He jerked his head away as she tried to kiss him. “I can’t…Evie…” His mind searched cagily for a way to dissuade her. “I’m too weak.” Ardent and determined, Evie grasped his head and turned his face to hers. “Poor darling,” she murmured, smiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.” “Evie,” he said hoarsely, aroused and infuriated and pleading, “I have to prove that I can last three months without—no, don’t do that. Damn you, Evie—

For a reputed rogue, you're damnably hard to seduce.

Girls are always in dilemma. They always rethink about feelings and draw different conclusions each time they rethink.

Gewalt! Gewalt! wer kann der Gewalt nicht trotzen? Was Gewalt heisst, ist nichts: Verführung ist die wahre Gewalt.

He'd finally found her alone and in the perfect location. The stillroom, tucked away on the ground floor of one wing, was private, and contained no daybed, chaise, or similar piece of furniture. In his present state, that was just as well. A gentleman should not, after all, go too far with the lady he intended making his wife before informing her of that fact. The absence of any of the customary aids to seduction should make coming to the point easy, after which they could retire to some place of greater comfort, so he could be comfortable again. The thought- of how he would ease the discomfort that had dogged him for the past days- wound his spring a notch tighter.

Here's a bit of advice... When a woman invites you into her home... and you don't seduce her... don't seduce another woman, darling, certainly not under the same roof. It's bad manners - ungallant to say the least,

He was the kind of man I wanted: wild, hot, horny, and losing control. And it all pointed back to me, about how much I felt in control of him, with the power of my body. I felt so in control of him; it was dizzying, and intoxicating.

He was a committed ladies' man and obtained a great deal of sustenance from the seemingly inexhaustible supply of women, but he guarded himself vigilantly against addiction, fearful of becoming fodder for that feminine allure which is so paradoxically generous to those who take from it and so destructively cruel to those who give.

He wasn't good with this sort of thing - with the back-and-forth dance between man and woman. He wasn't even sure if they were dancing, or if she was merely being polite.

He was the kind of man I wanted: wild, hot, horny, and losing control. And it all pointed back to me, about how much I felt in control of him, with the power of my body.

His voice was like soothing melted chocolate. I wanted him to ooze his lovely voice all over my naked body.

How blest am I in this discovering thee! To enter in these bonds is to be free; Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be. Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee, As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be

Horror immobolizes us because it is made of contradictory feelings: fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction. Horror is a fascination...Horror is immobility, the great yawn of empty space, the womb and the hole in the earth, the universal Mother and the great garbage heap...With horror we cannot have recourse to flight or combat, there remains only Adoration or Exorcism.

How grateful are you?" he whispered, his mouth hovering over mine. His eyes were very alert now, and his gaze was boring into mine. "That kind of ruins it, when you say something like that," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. "You shouldn't want me to have sex with you just because I owe you." "I don't really care why you have sex with me, as long as you do it," he said, equally gently.

I’d never blame anyone else who falls for the same brand of seduction. I embrace that we’re all similarly flawed. That makes the self-inflicted wounds hurt less. I’d read Tennessee Williams. I just didn’t expect to be living my own tainted little version of Suddenly Last Summer.

I can't believe it. He is sporting a bona fide erection in the middle of class. All because of me. In history you learn about entire kingdoms crumbling into chaos because of a woman—or, in some cases, multiple women. I smile at Professor Delacroix, putting an extra bit of swing into my hips as I sashay out the door. I'm beginning to see just how easy it is to bring a man to his knees with a few flashes of bare skin, and the whispered promise of hot, sweaty sex.

I could not help liking this girl more and more. I’ve never met a woman who was the one initiating her own seduction. Directing it even." - Rip Rockwell in Anti-Nice Guy: Rip by Kailin Gow

I deny that one's rational will can be undermined by physical sensation," she said. "One's brain is always in charge." Leo couldn't prevent the mocking smile that rose to his lips. "Good God, Marks. Obviously you've never participated in the act, or you would know that the major organ in charge is not the brain. In fact, the brain ceases working altogether." - Cat & Leo

I am not trying to seduce you. "I know that. But please, Mrs. Robinson. This is difficult for me." "Why is it," she said "Because I am confused about things. I can't tell what I'm imagining. I can't tell what's real. I can't --" "Would you like me to seduce you?" "What?" "Is that what you're trying to tell me?

I'm evil, know it, and enjoy it.

I have no fear of men, as such, nor of their books. I have mixed with them--one or two of them particularly-- almost as one of their own sex. I mean I have not felt about them as most women are taught to feel--to be on their guard against attacks on their virtue; for no average man-- no man short of a sensual savage--will molest a woman by day or night, at home or abroad, unless she invites him. Until she says by a look 'Come on' he is always afraid to, and if you never say it, or look it, he never comes.

I heard him sweeping with the broom, and then he suddenly stopped. I had obviously got his attention, and he was looking. Take a good look, honey, I thought. Take a good look at what I’m offering. I liked the sound of that silence. Do you know what I mean? Have you heard that silence yourself? I love that silence you get, when a man who you fancy notices your body. In a weird way, it’s so loud, it’s deafening. It could be because of the way you sway your hips, your legs, or thrust your breasts. And you just know his erection is talking to him, about what he’d like to do to your body. How he’d like to have his delightfully wicked way with you, undress you, smother your naked skin with hungry urgent kisses, and thrust his hard and moist cock deep inside the pouting red lips of your mouth… I think you get my drift. There’s a lovely tension in that moment; I call it the lust moment. When a sexy man sees what you’ve deliberately put out on offer, and he stops in his steps as his lust lights up his mind, and puts him on a new track.

I am experiencing a measure of excitement combined with increasing pleasure, which is perhaps manifesting as an expression of amusement." It was the first time he had ever used the scales to describe his emotions. "I love it when you talk dirty," I whispered ...

Il ne faut pas t'étonner qu'aucune femme ne veuille, Rufus, glisser sa cuisse légère sous la tienne même si tu la soudoyais en lui offrant une robe splendide ou une pierre diaphane et raffinée. C'est qu'une sale histoire te porte tort, selon laquelle un bouc sauvage logerait sous tes aisselles. On le redoute, et ce n'est pas surprenant : la bête est très méchante et aucune fille ne coucherait avec. Alors débarrasse-toi de cette calamité redoutable pour les narines, ou cesse de t'étonner que l'on te fuie.

I have heard it said that one loses a woman by loving her too much, that an affectation of coldness, from time to time, brings better results. And so on. I shall play no such tricks with you … Let love be truly love—that is, let it be peace—or let it not exist at all.

I know the devices of a demon. I was taught as a child about the demon lover. I was told about a beautiful temptress who came to a young man's room. And he, if he were wise, would demand that she turn around, because demons and witches have no back, only what they wish to present to you.

Il l’embrassait. Il l’embrassait ! IL L’EMBRASSAIT. Ses lèvres étaient possessives, tentatrices, séductrices. Sa langue, enivrante telle une puissante drogue. Il l’embrassait comme s’il cherchait à lui laisser un marque indélébile, comme pour lui prouver qu’elle était sienne à jamais.

I’m paying,” he says. “And driving. Go nuts.” I push the drink away. “I’ll behave.” He waits a beat, licking his lips, before he says, “I wish you wouldn’t.

Is that kink I smell?" I sounded like a sexy shark, circling.

In my experience, writers tend to be really good at the inside of their own heads and imaginary people, and a lot less good at the stuff going on outside, which means that quite often if you flirt with us we will completely fail to notice, leaving everybody involved slightly uncomfortable and more than slightly unlaid. So I would suggest that any attempted seduction of a writer would probably go a great deal easier for all parties if you sent them a cheerful note saying "YOU ARE INVITED TO A SEDUCTION: Please come to dinner on Friday Night, Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in." And alcohol may help, too. Or kissing. Many writers figure out that they're being seduced or flirted with if someone is actually kissing them.

I once saw you in a tuxedo and all I wanted to do is eat.

In order to understand the intensity of ritual forms, one must rid oneself of the idea that all happiness derives from nature, and all pleasure from the satisfaction of a desire. On the contrary, games, the sphere of play, reveal a passion for rules, a giddiness born of rules, and a force that comes from ceremony, and not desire.

I smile at you, hinting at the pleasures ahead, and silently point to the zip at the back of my dress…

I think I like you,” he said as he turned and moved to sit in the chair across from her. “What a beautiful thing to say to the woman you’re trying to seduce.

I thought you weren’t going to do that sort of thing.” “I’m not going to seduce you without invitation,” Heilyn clarified, “but I’m still allowed to flirt, and that was flirting.” “I think you’re changing these rules as we go along.” “More fun that way, isn’t it?