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erotica

“Listen, I m bossy. I can t help it. It s who I am and what I do. I m pushy and I like to take over. But I m going to work really hard not to do so much and your going to try and accept me the way I am. Flaws and all. Because I m good in bed and I can carry heavy things and reach all the high shelves.”

— Lauren Dane, Coming Undone, Share via Whatsapp

“I had a feeling that Pandora s box contained the mysteries of woman s sensuality, so different from a man s and for which man s language was so inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored.”

— Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus, Share via Whatsapp

“Possess. Have. Hold. Enjoy. Control. Dominate. Pick your verb, Ms. Fairchild. I intend to explore so very many of them.”

— J. Kenner, Release Me, Share via Whatsapp

“She tasted sweet, like oranges, liquid sunshine in my mouth as we kissed, our tongues playing together.”

— Selena Kitt, A Baumgartner Reunion, Share via Whatsapp

“I was not crying - eyes water. I think we all know I m a badass and I don t cry. - Caleb”

— C.J. Roberts, Epilogue, Share via Whatsapp

“He tastes of white wine and apple pie and Christian. I run my fingers through his hair, holding him to me while our tongues explore and curl and twist around each other, my blood heating in my veins.We re breathless when Christian pulls away.”

— E.L. James, Fifty Shades Freed, Share via Whatsapp

“Kings bring sand to the beach and build castles”

— Niccolo from F.U.C.K., Share via Whatsapp

“I moaned then, tilting my head back to give him better access. His hands clamped on my waist, then moved—one going to cup my rear, the other sliding between us. This—this moment, when it was him and me and nothing between our bodies … His tongue scraped the roof of my mouth as he dragged a finger down the center of me, and I gasped, my back arching. “Feyre,” he said against my lips, my name like a prayer more devout than any Ianthe had offered up to the Cauldron on that dark solstice morning. His tongue swept my mouth again, in time to the finger that he slipped inside of me. My hips undulated, demanding more, craving the fullness of him, and his growl reverberated in my chest as he added another finger. I moved on him. Lightning lashed through my veins, and my focus narrowed to his fingers, his mouth, his body on mine. His palm pushed against the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs, and I groaned his name as I shattered”

— Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury, Share via Whatsapp

“When you really thought about it crying was a rather bizarre thing for any creature to be capable of. What purpose did it serve other than revealing too much?”

— Kitty Thomas, The Auction, Share via Whatsapp

“Gideon: We ve established some talking points: we have an intense sexual attraction and neither of us wants to date. So what do you want – exactly? Seduction, Eva? Do you want to be seduced? Eva: Sex that’s planned like a business transaction is a turnoff for me. Gideon: Establishing parameters in a merger makes it less likely that there’ll be exaggerated expectations and disappointment. Eva: Why even call it a fuck? Why not be clear and call it seminal emission in a pre-approved orifice?”

— Sylvia Day, Bared to You, Share via Whatsapp

“She couldn’t take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation…for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least. So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her—as the damned flame got way too close—she started singing. “Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…” Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn’t have a sense of humor. “Happy birthday, dear Gabi”—she lifted her head and blew out the candle—“happy birthday to me.”

— Cherise Sinclair, Make Me, Sir, Share via Whatsapp

“God, you’re uptight. Did the aliens maybe forget to remove your anal probe?”

— Cherise Sinclair, To Command and Collar, Share via Whatsapp

“There is a perfection in everything that cannot be owned.”

— Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus, Share via Whatsapp

“Awww, that s sweet. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a well-made implement of pain.”

— Cherise Sinclair, Lean on Me, Share via Whatsapp

“Oh lord and master. High muckety-muck.”

— Cherise Sinclair, Make Me, Sir, Share via Whatsapp

“You mean you’re not God? Nooo, say it isn’t so!”

— Cherise Sinclair, Make Me, Sir, Share via Whatsapp

“She took a second look at him, at his fancy tailored suit. Dark gray with pinstripes. Oh please, like she’d really believe he was a dom at all? “Gabrielle Anderson. Are you sure you’re Master Marcus?” “Why would you think I’m not Master Marcus?” he asked. Well, good grief. She waved a hand at him and kept the duh from slipping out. Just in case he really was Master Marcus. Maybe he hadn’t changed yet or something. “The suit? Where are your leathers or latex or…biker jacket or vest? And black? Did you forget to wear black?” He stared for a second, as if she’d turned into a drooling idiot, and then simply roared. Deep, full laughter—amazing coming from someone who looked like he should have a stick up his ass.”

— Cherise Sinclair, Make Me, Sir, Share via Whatsapp