Best 233 quotes in «seduction quotes» category

You can seduce a man without taking anything off, without even touching him.

Adam leaned down and placed his lips next to her ear. He blew gently on it before he spoke. Mona leaned even closer into him as she listened intently to his words. "Desdemona." She moaned at the sound of her name on his lips. "I need to tell you something." His words were accompanied by warm air caressing her skin. "Before my time is done, I will watch the light fade from your eyes as you are sent to the hell you so deserve." Though his words promised destruction, the cadence of his voice still held her in a seductive rapture.

All I'd done for the past ten years was talk about it. I was sick of talking...sick of analyzing...sick of reliving it...sick of the screaming in my head that replayed over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

All war is based in deception (cfr. Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”). Definition of deception: “The practice of deliberately making somebody believe things that are not true. An act, a trick or device entended to deceive somebody”. Thus, all war is based in metaphor. All war necessarily perfects itself in poetry. Poetry (since indefinable) is the sense of seduction. Therefore, all war is the storytelling of seduction, and seduction is the nature of war.

A man should be more original than a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates. Flowers die and sugar sticks to your hips like a permanent record to a criminal.

A man grows bored with a woman, no matter how beautiful; he yearns for different pleasures, and for adventure.

All you have to do is breathe, and you seduce me.

An alpha man is confident, fully centered in his masculine core, sure of his self worth and what he brings to the table in dating and relationships. He doesn't seek the approval of others and is repulsed by women who don't recognize his value, no matter how attractive the woman might be. An alpha man knows that he fully deserves a partner who mutually chooses him and makes a mutual effort to be together. If a man doesn't recognize himself to be valuable, then women will not see him as valuable either. What you feel, you attract." (Coach Ricioppo Parra)

Attraction The whites of his eyes pull me like moons. He smiles. I believe his face. Already my body slips down in the chair: I recline on my side, offering peeled grapes. I can taste his tongue in my mouth whenever he speaks. I suspect he lies. But my body oils itself loose. When he gets up to fix a drink my legs like derricks hoist me off the seat. I am thirsty, it seams. Already I see the seduction far off in the distance like a large tree dwarfed by a rise in the road. I put away objections as quietly as quilts. Already I explain to myself how marriages are broken-- accidentally, like arms or legs.

A sexual fantasy should only be something you cannot ever achieve. If it's achievable, then it's nothing more than a reality you avoid making happen for yourself

At the core level, seduction comes down to selling. You’re trying to convince a woman that you are a hot product she has got to have! You’re selling yourself.

Apprends-moi à ne plus t’aimer. Apprends-moi à te haïr. Sinon j’ai peur de ne jamais m’en sortir.

Beauty needs a witness.

Beauty is a unique predator: we crave to become its prey.

being seduced is a pleasure in itself. One yields for the sake of yielding.

Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. The best thing is living seductively; which is about finding new ways to make the same person fall for you daily.

But it may be that I betrayed myself. Since Dorcastle, my ability to supress my emotions has diminished. I know feelings are showing, not in ways which commons might see, but clearly enough for Mages to spot. My elders could well have decided that I am ruined, that my contact with you has corrupted me beyond correction." ... "What does it take to corrupt a Mage, anyway?" "I told you. They thought that you had attempted to seduce me. Perhaps they thought that you had already succeeded despite my denials that such a thing had happened." Once again Mari stared at him, her face darkening. "I was under the impression that your elders thought I would try that at some future point. What did you tell them to make them think that I had already put my moves on you? Or that I had already hooked you?" "Hooked?" Alain asked. "Ensnared." Mari got the word out between clenched teeth. "I told them nothing. That is the illusion they wished to believe, not thinking there could be any other reason for a female Mechanic to seek my company." Alain paused in thought. "A young and attractive female Mechanic, that is." "Oh right. The one with all those physical charms." "Yes," Alain agreed. She gasped a laugh. "I was being sarcastic again, Alain. I hope that isn't the only reason you've been attracted to me. Not the only reason anyway." "You are very pleasant to look upon," Alain said, and Mari's face flushed again. Had he angered her? "But my elders were foolish to think physical desire alone could corrupt me. It should not be possible with all of my training, but I found that a single shadow was by far the most important part of the world illusion. That is what doomed me, so my elders were correct in thinking that you had altered my thinking. Not with your body or other physical temptation, but with who you were and the things you did." Alain made another effort to bend his lips into a smile. "I will never be able to return to what I was before I met you.

— Bien que ce scénario de film porno soit très tentant, je me vois dans l'obligation de décliner.

Bertie’s gaze fell there and his blue eyes widened. “Deuce take you, Jess,” he said crossly. “Can’t a fellow trust you for a moment? How many times do I have to tell you to leave my friends alone?” Miss Trent coolly withdrew her hand. Trent gave Dain an apologetic look. “Don’t pay it any mind, Dain. She does that to all the chaps. I don’t know why she does it, when she don’t want ‘em. Just like them fool cats of Aunt Louisa’s. Go to all the bother of catching a mouse, and then the confounded things won’t eat ’em. Just leave the corpses lying about for someone else to pick up.” Miss Trent’s lips quivered.

Comment pouvait-on donner l'impression d'entièrement posséder quelqu'un avec un simple baiser ?

— Comment oses-tu travailler dans mon entreprise ? Après tout ce que tu as fait, jamais tu n’aurais dû oser ne serait-ce que franchir le seuil de Pearl. Tu aurais dû mettre tout en œuvre pour ne plus jamais réapparaître devant moi.

― Comment peux-tu dire ça ? Comment peux-tu croire qu’une vie a plus de valeur qu’une autre ? Son cœur se brisa. Comment pouvait-on être aussi cruelle ? Elle imaginait Irénée le dénigrer à longueur de journée, lui rabâcher sans arrêt qu’il n’aurait jamais dû naître, qu’il n’était qu’un parasite.

cause we don't hide, We parade our pride!

Closing the door, she turned back to him, taking in the long, muscled length of him on the bed, staring at her. Waiting for her. Perfection. He was perfect, and she was bare before him, bathed in candlelight. She was instantly embarrassed- somehow more embarrassed than she had been that night in his office, when she'd touched herself under his careful guidance. At least then she'd been wearing a corset. Stockings. Tonight, she wore nothing. She was all flaws, each one highlighted by his perfection. He watched her for a long moment before extending one muscled arm, palm up, an irresistible invitation. She went to him without hesitation, and he rolled to his back, pulling her over his lovely, lean chest, staring up at her intently. She covered her breasts in a wave of nerves and trepidation. "When you look at me like that... it's too much." He did not look away. "How do I look at you?" "I don't know what it is... but I feel as though you can see into me. As though, if you could, you would consume me." "It's want, love. Desire like nothing I've never experienced. I'm fairly shaking with it. Come here." The demand was impossible to resist, carrying with it the promise of pleasure beyond her dreams. She went. When she was close enough to touch, he lifted one hand, stroking his fingers along hers where they hid her breasts from view. "I tremble with need for you, Pippa. Please, love, let me see you." The request was raw and wretched, and she couldn't deny him, slowly moving her hands to settle them on his chest, fingers splayed wide across the crisp auburn hair that dusted his skin. She was distracted by that hair, the play of it over muscle- the way it narrowed to a lovely dark line across his flat stomach. He lay still as she touched him, his muscles firm and perfect. "You're so beautiful," she whispered, fingers stroking down his arms to his wrists. His gaze narrowed on her. "I am happy you approve, my lady." She smiled. "Oh I do, my lord. You are a remarkable specimen." White teeth flashed again as she gained her courage, retracing her touch, over his forearms, marveling in the feel of him, reciting from memory, "flexor digitorium superficialis, flexor capri radialis..." along his upper arms, "biceps brachii, tricipitis brachii..." over his shoulders, loving the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath her touch, "deltoideus..." and down his chest, "subscapularis... pectoralis major..." She stilled, brushing her fingers over the curve of that muscle, the landscape of him... the valleys of his body. He sucked in a breath as her fingers ran over the flat discs of his nipples, arching up to her touch, and she stilled, reveling in her power. He enjoyed her touch. He wanted it. She repeated the stroke, this time with her thumbs. He hissed his pleasure, one wide hand falling to the inside of her knee, sending a river of heat through her. "Don't stop now, love. This is the most effective seduction I've ever experienced.

Dare to bare?

Could it really be this easy to land a handsome man? If so, why didn't I try it ages ago?

Cruelty & menace; mix it with a cocktail of sweet liquor. Now laying in my bed, she taste sweet when I lick her. I'm too irresistible like the forbidden of fruit but I'll satisfy your thirst, I'm something like the Truth.

Debout, face à elle, se tenait la raison de tous ses tourments, celui qui lui avait fait connaître le paradis mais surtout l'enfer.

Do I need to wriggle my breasts at you again?" "No, please. I don't know if I'd be able to stand the theological debate that would follow.

Desire is an art.

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

Don’t lose yourself in a man, that’ll make you lose your pizzazz indefinitely. Instead, lose yourself in your own sensuality and you’ll forever enchant him.

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.

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

― 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 ?

― 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 ?

Don’t lose yourself in a man, that’ll make you lose your pizzazz indefinitely. Instead, lose yourself in your own sensuality and you’ll forever enchant him. The power to enthrall and keep a man is hidden in your sensuality.

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

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.

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.

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—

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 reputed rogue, you're damnably hard to seduce.

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.

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.