Erotic Romance Series Quotes

“He peeled the towel that imprisoned us away and let it fall. I felt it slide softly off my backside, and I felt, too, his rising excite¬ment, hard, erect, pressing against me.
My nipples were erect, straining, aching, pressed against his strong warm damp chest, the tangle and pattern of his hair. He was a beast, an animal. My excitement was rising again, to match his. It was as if my heart were about to burst or to flip flop, breathless, into a dark abyss.
“Of course, you are crazy, my darling, but, then, so am I.” He kissed me and his oh-so-clever hands seized my waist, tighten¬ing, and then sneaking up my backside, pulling me, pressing me closer, into him. He kissed me again, and his lips moved down my neck to my shoulder and then to my breasts.
“Oh,” I said, “Oh.”
He bent over me, kissing my collarbone and then my breasts, carefully, slowly, his hands traveling down my back, and over my backside; suddenly, he was on his knees, kissing the whorl of 101
my belly button; then he was forcing me open, gently, gently, his tongue exploring caressing, devouring …
“Oh …” I exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. I tipped on the very edge. He bit me, gently. Oooooh!
He pulled in the reins, the bit and bridle, of the frisky frothing filly that I had become; this sudden halt made me wilder, crazier; then, once again, he brought me, trembling, up to the very, very edge of the cliff – of orgasm, of loss of self.
Then he pulled me back. I blinked and trembled. Around the two of us, there was a whole world, a whole universe. It seemed too vivid to be real, like the backdrop in an opera. Venus was brighter and lower now. The sky had turned deep indigo. One by one, stars appeared.”
― Gwendoline Clermont, The Shaming of Gwendoline C

“We got up, still talking, and began to dance again.
“I want to try something,” he said.
“Okay, what?”
“Twist your arms behind your back.”
“Hmm, okay … Like this?”
“Yes. And now I’ll hold you like that.”
I licked my lips and gave him the look, and I said, “Okay.”
“If you want me to stop, tell me.”
“Okay. I’ll bite you if I don’t like it. If I’m okay, you get a kiss.”
He smiled and clasped my wrists tight, pinioning my arms behind my back. The pressure twisted my shoulders back, just a bit, and thrust my breasts forward. We moved, and I felt my breasts pressing through the silk T-shirt against his chest. I kissed him.
“I like it,” I said. “I like it when you hold me, when you have me … in your power.”
He kissed me. It was a rapid, sudden, ravishing kiss. He let go of my wrists, and I flung my arms around him. We twirled around. He lifted me up. We plunged back down onto the divan. I was astraddle him, on my knees, looking down on him, breathless.
“Lift it off,” he said.
“You lift it off,” I said. I bowed, and he pulled the silk T-shirt over my head, leaving it halfway off for just a minute, and masking my face. He kissed me on the forehead through the silk. His lips pressed on my lips, and I hungrily tried to kiss, but I was a prisoner of the silk, and then, slowly, he pulled the T-shirt off my head, and my lips were free, and our lips met, and we kissed, a deep, free warm, liquid kiss. I was melting into him.
His hands went up and down my back, sweeping, exploring, pressing, and caressing. He kissed my breasts, slowly, licking and biting each nipple.”
― Gwendoline Clermont, The Shaming of Gwendoline C

“Mary wished she could look away, shut out the sculpted beauty of his face, the width of his shoulders and the scent of his cologne. She hated the impact his physical presence had on her senses. Tall and dark, lean but very muscular, sharply dressed yet deeply
tanned, he gave off the primitive, seductive aura of a powerful, desirable male.”
― Carol Storm, Santiago's Secret

“Maxim smiled his devilish, seductive smile again, and his eyes lit up with fire and danger. Arina would sacrifice anything in the world to find out what he thought about when he smiled like that.”
― Tatiana Vedenska, Two Months and Three Days

“The most difficult part was to suppress the fear growing somewhere in the depths of her soul.”
― Tatiana Vedenska, Two Months and Three Days