Seduction
Quotes - I live in the dreams of those who desire me
“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.”
―
Thomas Hardy, Jude the Obscure
“It
is not possible to be seduced by the lure of ego-gratification or intimidated
by the tyranny of imposters when we know that we are as the angels. We are
loved beyond comprehension. So, we must claim our rightful inheritance and live
with the confidence of protection.”
―
Donna Goddard, The Love of Devotion
“I
think I won't come on Thursday for this reason; I must get on with writing; you
would seduce me completely [...]”
―
Virginia Woolf
“I
live in the dreams of those who desire me.”
―
Suman Pokhrel
“Underneath
the sky, so void of light, the rain soaked me through. I held on to the railing
and felt calm, even content, and then he had to reach through the dark, raise
my temperature and make my heart beat a little bit faster. Not very gallant I
should say...especially so close to bedtime. Friend or not, should he rob me of
sleep, I'll be sure to take his.”
―
Donna Lynn Hope
“The
foundation of true sensuality is a deep and lasting seduction.”
―
Lebo Grand
“The
cruel boy who had used to fling her own confused desires back into her face
like a knife-thrower at a carnival had become a man who could charm her into
holding those selfsame blades at her own throat.”
―
Nenia Campbell, Sine Qua Non
“[Mr.
Jones] was uncommonly bad at seduction if he though talk of common capital and
incorporation would do the trick, but she could think of no other reason he
would lavish her with such time and care.
Except
the impossible one: No motive but to help her. Such purity didn’t exist,
though. If it did …
If
it did, he’d be a dangerously good seducer.”
―
Alison Atlee, The Typewriter Girl
“In
nature all things are close to or distant from each other. The psychological
world knows first the intermediate region of distance seducing to nearness,
nearness pressing towards distance, of an irreconcilable closeness-distance.”
―
Helmuth Plessner, Grenzen der Gemeinschaft
“This
was it
That
tongue and those fingers were exactly
where
she wanted them to be..
In
and exhales that were breaths she kept tucked away
Hidden
in secret places
just
for moments like these..”
―
J.W. Shane
“Distracted
I was, by his dark eyes,
his
promises that we would have time,
away
from all this mayhem,
somewhere
secluded and private.
A
chance to be lost in each other.
Lured
I was, into his desires.
Torn
away from this gathering,
this
precious, significant time.
Away
from my duties for Fleur.”
―
Susan L. Marshall, Fleur of Yesterday
“Then,
carefully, in the manner of a storyteller, he gave it the experience of his
abduction, captivity and conversion. All that he had felt, he made it feel. He
did what he had not known he could do. He overwhelmed it so that for a time it
was, itself, both captive and convert.”
―
Octavia Butler
“She
wants to either bring back the Empire or take me to bed, Ransolm thought.
Possibly both.”
―
Claudia Gray, Bloodline
“He
was disgracefully handsome, the flight attendant decided, with the kind of face
you saw in old black-and-white Hollywood movies. And, oh, that British accent!
Even better. Nadia loved British accents. He was so courteous, such a
gentleman, that she wondered if he might somehow be connected to the royal
family. Just thinking about it made her pizda tingle. "Then perhaps I can
fetch you a blanket."
"A
glass of wine, if you have it."
"Of
course, sir. Red or white?"
"Always
red."
Safe
watched the shapely bottom swing pertly away toward the galley. With blue
baby-doll eyes and wide pouty lips, she was an adolescent wet dream of a sexy
stewardess, long-legged and busty, extravagantly curvy in all the right places
under the snug red Aeroflot uniform.”
―
Helen Maryles Shankman, The Color of Light
“He
was disgracefully handsome, the flight attendant decided, with the kind of face
you saw in old black-and-white Hollywood movies. And, oh, that British accent!
Even better. Nadia loved British accents. He was so courteous, such a
gentleman, that she wondered if he might somehow be connected to the royal
family. Just thinking about it made her pizda tingle. "Then perhaps I can
fetch you a blanket."
"A
glass of wine, if you have it."
"Of
course, sir. Red or white?"
"Always
red."
Rafe
watched the shapely bottom swing pertly away toward the galley. With blue
baby-doll eyes and wide pouty lips, she was an adolescent wet dream of a sexy
stewardess, long-legged and busty, extravagantly curvy in all the right places
under the snug red Aeroflot uniform.”
―
Helen Maryles Shankman, The Color of Light
“You
must seduce poetry with the heart of your words before she'll sprinkle you with
the magic of hers.”
―
Curtis Tyrone Jones
“When
the last secret is revealed, nature still won't stop seducing us with her
mysteries.”
―
Bhuwan Thapaliya
“Even
if you are a brazen cad, girls can often be fooled by an act which combines
equal parts self-deprecation, wit and flattery.”
―
Nick Casanova, The Machiavellian's Guide to Womanizing
“He
has all the beauty of an angel--- a chiseled face and a faint glow. But there's
something wrong about him. A rawness that never melted down. His smile is
crooked, forged by a false sense of happiness. Though, he is undeniably
enthralling. Golden hair and sharpened bones. Fox-like eyes that trail my body
as if it's for show. Silently undressing me. Ready to pounce. In another world,
I might have let him.
I
smile, fawning naivety as he takes a step closer. His red lips part with a grin
as he brushes a weft of hair over my shoulder. I shiver as he trails my bare
skin. His touch is delicate, careful not to startle me as my breathing hitches.
Slowly, his fingers trace the vulnerable part of my throat, grazing gently
instead of drawing blood. He's careful in his movements, taking his time,
awakening my senses until I let out a kitten cry. His hand perches beneath my
chin. Our eyes lock, trapped in honeyed heat, as his thumb strokes the fullness
of my bottom lip.
"You're
immaculate," he says. His voice is lush and dark. I tense, trying not to
tremble as his tether possesses me. It becomes harder when he whispers, "I
have never seen such a beautiful girl."
Electric
shovers rattle my bones. My knees slacken, and he stabilizes my balance.
I
refuse to give him the upper hand.
I
press my palm against his chest, grazing right where his blouse parts. My eyes
turn doe-like with wonder, honoring his beauty and tending his fragile ego.
"Are we to be married now? I can't wait a moment longer."
He
grins. "Soon, coquette."
I
move my hand up to his neck. Not slow and delicate like he was with me. But
feral, delicious, wanting. "I need you." I nearly pant.
That's
it. That's enough to make him tick. He drinks me in like nectar, a sweet
ambrosia brewed just for him. "Come," he says, offering his arm.”
―
Kiana Krystle, Dance of the Starlit Sea
