Quotes about erotic-romance

She invited him to her unexplored landHe snarled like the hungry wolfcircled his thumb around it and thrust his dagger..until it cracked and rained

That’s real love and real happiness. It’s when you go to sleep every night hoping that you are less happy than your lover it’s hoping that you’ve given everything you could to them so that their day could be just a tiny bit better.

She was so light he could hold her all night without a problem.

Men have firm beautiful bodies with cut muscles. But the curves and gentleness of a woman’s body is beyond a words measure with their dazzling rawness it’s impossible to perfect but I crave the need to depict such a fathomless beauty.

He traveled the lowland and climbed the mountains and drank from the flowing stream.

He's a gazillionaire. I barely make expenses every month. He owns mansions all over the world I co-rent a townhouse in Alexandria with my best friend. Women fall all over themselves to go out with him. I haven't had a date since forever.

I was starting to feel like my opposition was futile. Was my resistance worth the weariness that was seeping into my body? I couldn’t deny that I coveted him. I recognized my body’s demand for him for what it was and I had no disillusionments I knew that I would enjoy the promises he tantalized me with.

I'm no mystery I'm just a simple woman with complex fantasies and fetishes.

Every person has the right to be loved in the way she/he wants to be loved. Making love is not something you do to someone making love is something you share.

Next to God, Family is the best thing.

Look at the huge success of Fifty Shades of Grey. The girl in the book lets a rich guy beat her and ritually rape her, and she likes it! She finds it erotic! But imagine if Christian Grey wasn't a billionaire. Imagine if he lived in a dirty old trailer down by the river. Then that story wouldn't be a sexy romance novel, but an episode of CSI.

CLOVER: I take hold of my daughter, knowing her life may be complicated, not seem fair, and often a cruel joke.I can’t protect her from self-doubt and denial, things all of us inevitably face one way or another––but I can make sure she knows her father and I think we’re the luckiest people in the world to have her.And I think that might be enough.In fact, I think that might be everything.

....if you wanted something enough, you’d be willing to stand and fight for it, even if you got beat down.

LEXI: I’d settled for this awful existence because I’d convinced myself it was better than being alone....But it’s not.

CANDY: I learned long ago not to give a flying f*ck what strangers thought about me. H*ll, I only mildly care what my friends think. Life is too short to stress others’ opinions.

Everyone is effed up, Dalton. At some point, you just have to find someone to share the baggage with.

Tobias: No one ever said this would be easy, and you don’t seem like the type of woman to take the easy way out.

Link had to make the decision to save himself.

Want and need are not the same things either. A want can be foregone. It is voluntary, a nice-to-have. A need is required, a necessity. If he needed me, I’d be essential for his success, for his happiness.

...it’s not him that you’re still pining after, it’s the lost time. You’re mourning what should’ve been more so than what really was. You feel robbed as well you should, but not for the right reasons.

....what I’m really saying is that you knew, somewhere deep inside you knew that he wasn’t the one for you. I’ve always wondered with people who get divorced if the wronged party hadn’t seen it coming.

No one else sees you as the villain here, but you gotta stop being a victim babe.

He was so glad he didn’t go through with his plan to end himself. What an idiot. Look at how much he would’ve missed if he’d followed through.

KYLE: ... no way in h*ll he’s getting away with short changing you.”KERRYANNE: But like you said, I don’t need it so why?KYLE: Because it’s rightfully yours sweetheart.

You desire me. I can scent it on the wind.” He drew in a breath and licked his lips. “I have been waiting for your courage to bring you to me, but I have grown tired of our little game.

The air between them was electric, the scent of his aftershave was intoxicating and she could feel the testosterone bouncing off him. She could immediately tell he was a powerful man.

If erotic writing is the objectification of sex, then reading is its subjectification.

Here’s what happens when a single mom meets New York City’s hottest fireman…“Then…seductively…as if he received instruction not from the FDNY’s training school but at Chippendale’s…he slowly inches each suspender off his bare shoulders.”“You must know that exhilarating feeling of a man’s body on top of yours, all that power and muscle pressing you into the bed, the glorious taste of his tongue in your mouth, the manly scent that washes over you and makes you want to melt underneath him.”“Let’s n

While I stood on the front porch, watching him climb into his vehicle, I breathed in the humid air. I looked at the cloudless sky, and the blue vastness of it made me think about the endless opportunities that lay ahead for me. Life, I knew, was going to be different now… better. I was going to live for today and for the future. Dear past… thank you for the lessons. Dear future… I am ready.

Do you know what passion is?”I blink, confused.“Most people think it only means desire. Arousal. Wild abandon. But that’s not all. The word derives from the Latin. It means suffering. Submission. Pain and pleasure, Nikki. Passion.

Imagine how wild a night like this could be if you enjoyed the time spent and enjoyed the mind of the person beneath your sheets?

Everyone thinks to the extent of their depravity.” #HenriettaLedyanova, #FatefulItalianPassion

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 heard him sweeping with the broom, and then he suddenly stopped.I had obviously got his attention, and he was lo

I could feel his whole body trying to claim me, want me, own me in lust, and it made me feel so valuable and wanted. As I was bent over the table, I felt like I was the world to him, and he could think of nothing else, could feel nothing else: he was consumed with my body, dedicated to exploring my female sexual power and energy, and his desperate hitting of me with the belt felt like he would rather die, than be without the chance to connect with me in sex.

Lust, pure gorgeous lust: the sacred energy that elevates us, and makes us feel so special.

The air felt thick with the feeling between us, like it was filling the room: a room full of our carnal heat, our hot desire for each other. Both my hands were clenched on the tablecloth, bunching it tightly, as he continued to swipe the belt against my quivering ass cheeks, and I could feel his tight fist yank repeatedly on my hair.

I want you to fuck me, Chris,’ I said, lustfully whispering the words into his ear as he planted kisses on my neck. His lips were wild and yearning, eagerly devouring me.

I thought to myself how we were so wrapped up in this animal act, that he couldn’t care less about his tea shop business, and I couldn’t care less about my job. That’s real sex that is, real passion: where you abandon all your boringly sensible thoughts, and all that tediously responsible side of yourself, as you give yourself to what you know really matters more, deep in the core of you: frantic sex.

He lashed the belt against my ass again, and I was starting to feel like I was some supernatural being that was more than he was. He was just human, but I felt like something from heaven, an angel from the stars, that had come down to grace him with my presence. How beautiful lust is, when it makes you feel this way. Have you felt this yourself, do you know what I mean?

There we were, filled with pure animal need, as he pinned me to the wooden table, and cruelly whipped my naked bottom; the two of us sweaty and panting, me screaming, him grunting, our primal sexual natures overprinting the tea room’s pretence at gentility, and refinement.

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 handed the dust pan and brush over. I knew they wouldn’t be much use in cleaning the floor. I also knew the real reason he had given them to me: so he could look furtively at me, as I bent over.That idea turned me on. I welcomed it, and decided to give him a good look at what he wanted.

He pulled my head back further, and I could hear his ragged breathing as his mouth came close to my ear, sounding so desperate for me. God, I was turned on so much…

The thought went through my mind that we should film ourselves in our sexual act, and project our frenzied copulation permanently onto the walls of the tea-room, as a lesson to wake up the boring people who drank tea here, and to show them what life was really all about.

You know, there’s no pleasure like the joy of being a sexual woman. You can take your careers, your money, your houses and possessions, and you go and throw them in a lake. Because life is really all about sex. That’s what I keep learning, again and again. It’s the most important thing, woven into the very centre of life. And I just know I was put on this earth to be a sexual woman, and to explore as much about sex as I can.

I’d love to be tried out,’ I said, with a suggestive smile. ‘One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.’I saw a little flicker of fun in his eyes.

I stood in front of him, frustratedly imagining his naked muscular chest, and wanting his hot cock to spear me. My nipples were aroused, feeling as hard and long as coat hooks. They prodded fiercely through the thin blue material at him, like little calling signs of how horny and ready for sex I was. The best advertisement of all: erect nipples!

He looked at me, and then looked away quickly.But I could tell he was interested.I think my tight t-shirt might have had something to do with it. And the way I was pushing my breasts towards him, with an inviting smile on my face.

I traced a finger along my bottom lip as I wondered what his erection would look like, and how I should seduce him. I thought what kind of approach would work best: whether to go in slow and seductively, or whether I should make him notice me in some hard and fast way.

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.

I love being aroused. I love how that feeling overcomes me, as I look at a man’s erect cock, as I feel his hands ripping my clothes from my body, as the air caresses my naked skin, and how I feel like I’m blossoming like a flower.

You know, when I see a good-looking man, the first thing I think about is sex. I want to see him naked, and I imagine running my hands impatiently over his hot body.I can’t help it: it’s just how I am.

He closed the door behind us, and led me through to the back of the shop. ‘If you don’t mind, you can get changed in the stock cupboard,’ he said. ‘We’re not posh enough here to have staff changing rooms, but you’ll soon get used to it.’‘Oh, don’t worry, Chris,’ I said warmly. ‘I’m used to getting my clothes off in unusual places.

Excuse me,’ I said cheerily. ‘Is the job still going?’ I pointed to the notice.‘Of course,’ he said, looking back at me with a warm smile. I think he was as hopeful as I was about where this could lead to. ‘We need all the hands we can get.’I looked at the tight swell of his shirt against his chest, and thought, 'Mmm, yes, I can imagine my hands getting your fucking clothes off right now.

Once I had a wild fling on an otherwise boring weekend holiday in Edinburgh, with a guy I met who turned out to be a psychiatrist. He agreed with me, after hours and hours of our naked cavorting in a hotel, that I was a sex addict; although he did stress he wouldn’t change me for the world. It turned him on that I was so sexual, and we turned a dull weekend in a grey city into something wonderful for the two of us.So, what was the problem?

Tonight I've set my body on fireI've burned my fingers On your chest and absAnd as the flame Continued consuming me I blew my air kisses All over youUntil I've heard The explosion.

Say yes. Open your eyes, see that it's me, and say yes.

Shy, all those things you listed don’t make a person. They don’t. I mean it. You’re beautiful, both inside and outside, but please don’t look at me to validate that. You have to know it for yourself. -Taylor Holden, Strapped.

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.

(...) before they actually admit to the big 'L' word. Love or lust - what's the big, damn deal? You're going to  fuck either way, right?

Adrian had always found it amusing that a guy could be drilling Stacia up her ass while she considered herself to be a virgin. Her intent had been to present herself as such when she found "Mr. Right.

After years of selfish lovers, my preference for pleasuring as opposed to being pleasured had unsettled her at first but as brief fumbles had turned into stolen weekends, her confidence and trust in me had grown to the point where she was now totally relaxed and at ease with me. There was nothing, not a single thing I couldn’t do for or to her if I so wished it. We didn’t even have a safe word because we didn’t need one. We just knew.

One second, he was in my mouth, my tongue flicking over the broad head of him; the next, his hands were on my waist and I flipped onto my front. He nudged my legs apart with his knees, spreading me as he gripped my hips, tugging them up, up before he sheathed himself deep in me with a single stroke.I moaned into the pillow at every glorious inch of him, rising onto my forearms as my fingers grappled into the sheets.

Rhys shuddered, and I watched his cock twitch.“Play later,” he ground out.Indeed.His mouth found mine, the kiss open and deep, a clash of tongues and teeth. He lay me down on the pillows, and I locked my legs around his back, careful of the wings.Though I stopped caring as he nudged at my entrance. And paused.“Play later,” I snarled into his mouth.Rhys laughed and slid in. And in. And in.

Please,” I gasped out.He just brushed his lips against my jaw, my neck, my mouth.“Tamlin,” I begged. He palmed my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple. I cried out, and he buried himself in me with a mighty stroke.For a moment, I was nothing, no one.Then we were fused, two hearts beating as one, and I promised myself it always would be that way as he pulled out a few inches, the muscles of his back flexing beneath my hands, and then slammed back into me. Again and again.I broke and broke ag

I took one look at him, my mouth started watering and my panties moistened with thick fluid as if he had touched my sensation and made me instantaneously combust.

He was a romantic, a poet, a lover, a friend, and a freak. Someone to be turned on by and disgusted with in the same breath. He filled her with emotion. Whether it was the sensation of an orgasm or the comfort of someone who listen to her, this experience indulged all her pleasurable senses with little to no conflict. It was heaven, it was ecstasy, but it wasn't real.

Lucas, I never wanted children. I just want to be CEO. I want money, power, and on occasion, sex

All men are dogs, Nichelle, and if you don’t feed your dog, you can’t be surprised when he’s in the neighbor’s trash looking for food.

With Mr. Montgomery, I set out to see what it would be like to write a novel in 30 days. It was hell! I'd do it again in a minute.

There is enough conformity in the world Lord MacCaulay. I doubt that mine, or lack of it, will send the planet from its axis. Meanwhile, my heart does not soar for the riches you set before me. Perhaps one day, I may feel differently. For now, I wish to taste that which most women do not.”Mademoiselle Noire - The Gentlemen's Club

She remained in this attitude, clearly inviting him to touch her. Taking a position of advantage, he rested his right hand on her buttock. He considered a moment then raised his arm and brought his palm upon her, delivering a sharp spank. He felt the acuteness of it on his own skin. He gave her another, watching his hand in the mirror opposite, as it made contact. The slap caused her to flinch, but her heard her sigh also: the timbre of which was now familiar to him. He paused, allowing the sens

Forsaking all other thoughts, he rutted into her, in a fashion more animal than human. His eruption he held fast within, so that she squirmed against the sensation before accepting her own fall into oblivion, her walls pulsing to an echoing rhythm. from The Gentlemen's Club

He stabbed into her, driving deeply, repeatedly, iron-hard and demanding. She welcomed the piercing pleasure of his urgency, opening her legs wider, pushing her skirts away and wrapping her legs about him. His thrusts pushed her roughly against the table, but she rose to meet each one, clinging to him at the hip, grinding her own need to match his. Her fingers clawed at his buttocks, gripping him to her, pushing herself against him, devouring him. The Gentlemen's Club

I couldn't hear anything or anyone, there was only the sound of our sex and the smell of books.

Intimacy and lovemaking—intertwined, meshed, and one becoming the other—are what I strive to achieve each time I am presented with the opportunity to enjoy a lovemaking experience.

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.

BDSM is not liberating nor does it promote equality between men and women.

This daemon loves men whose marriage beds have grown cold, so she can set them ablaze.

Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean he and I can’t be just friends.” “And just because you don’t have to insert batteries into him doesn’t mean you can’t be more.

The last few strokes filled me with searing heat, electric pulses surging through my body and my soul, as our orgasms burst forth together, a million nerve endings suddenly flashing like twin rockets exploding fireworks, the multitude of sparks joining with a billion stars in the heavens above.

I breathed deeply of Sam’s manly scent – his pheromones – as his tongue burned in my mouth, his lips joined mine with violent softness, and his hands pulled my head even closer to him.

The last few strokes filled me with searing heat, and electric pulses traveled through my body and my soul, as our orgasms burst forth together, a million nerve endings suddenly flashing like twin rockets exploding fireworks, the multitude of sparks joining with a billion stars in the heavens above.

So…” Nolan smirked. “Are you going to tell me why you had a trunk load of pleasure devices delivered to your door, or are we going to just keep ignoring the giant box of sex toys in the room?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Ah, lust. It makes us forget anything we want to. The greatest relaxant, the greatest stimulant.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t live here, that a relationship was out of the question. It was probably because a relationship wouldn’t happen that he could let himself get this close. He wrapped his arms tighter around her as though this were all that existed in the world. Just the two of them, the mountain, the clean winter air. The taste of her tongue on his lips.

Remind me who you are,” he said in a gentler tone, almost a please. “How we know each other.”“Okay,” she began. “I’m Savannah Evans, a grad student and teaching assistant who teaches English at a college in Cambridge. I applied to the colony to work on my poetry and arrived six weeks ago. “We’ve spoken many times. You’ve praised my work, which I find a great honor as I’m a fan of your art.

You’re so damn big,” she whispered.“Why, thank you cariño,” he said.

What kind of slut do you think I am?”Theo bumped his hips against hers. “This might not be the best moment to ask me that.

Move your hands, Morgan,” he commanded.“It hurts!” she protested.“It’s supposed to.

Oh my God. Party punch. He’d brought a woman with the social age of twelve to the Citadel. He deserved everything he got.

You're very lovely, gatita."Her brows pulled together, and she gave him a skeptical stare."Do not look at your master as if he's an idiot.

Although she was beautiful, he knew that that wasn’t enough anymore.

Erotic Romance is a complete women thing.. by the women for the women.. Men don't even have an idea where women's imaginations can reach..!

Reality runs the risk of spoiling things, don't you think? The fantasy is often better. That's where the soul is fulfilled. Reality struggles to fulfil the soul, that's why we're often so unhappy. But fantasy is the world of the soul...

The city was alive, and so was he...

I like the sounds of words. Words are very enjoyable. I like words because they are... seductive. And I like words because they can contain... fantasies.