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“Poetry is a naked woman, a naked man, and the distance between them.”
― Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Poetry as Insurgent Art

“I looked at him like a stranger, someone I’d never seen before, and he looked at me like I’d been lost to him for a thousand years and finally found.”
― Emme Rollins, Dear Rockstar

“Being faithful and monogamous is not natural for human beings. It takes work. Deep down we all know that. We have all been tempted to stray at some point or another. Even when it was only a fleeting thought and we didn't act on it. Every time we acknowledge that someone of the opposite sex is "attractive" or "sexy" we are doing nothing other than pointing out that they would be a suitable mate. Not acting on that natural impulse to want to mate with a viable mating partner requires a conscious decision. It's a constant struggle between what your body wants, and what the civilized part of your brain says you should do, in order to avoid the negative consequences of cheating on your spouse and ruining your long-term relationship. That's why affairs, and extra-marital sex, are often referred to as "a moment of weakness.”
― Oliver Markus Malloy, Why Men And Women Can't Be Friends

“The man was rude, crude, and inappropriate. I was taken with him the moment I walked in the door, and I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.”
― C.M. Stunich, Losing Me, Finding You

“Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all—the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn’t kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy.”
― Emme Rollins, Dear Rockstar

“He paused, letting the tension mount. His solemn gaze met mine. "How long are you going to make me wait?"

I considered making a joke. Blowing the whole thing off like nothing had happened. But I cared about Adam too much to dismiss his genuine interest with careless sarcasm. "I don't know."

He stared at me for a few moments. Behind his eyes I could see the wheels turning. Weighing the options and eventualities. Finally, he breathed out through his nose, like expelling bad energy. "Well, I guess that's better than 'never'.”
― Jaye Wells, Green-Eyed Demon

“Yes, I was obsessed with sex, but which guy isn’t at seventeen? Blame our media or our conservative society; the subject of sex is treated as if it is something unnatural. By denouncing sex heavily, our society has made people wanting it even more. Media, on the other hand, presents it as if it is something magical but denied to most people. Moral policing too has done nothing good but increased the lure of sex in the minds of the young by making it a taboo. In short, a lot of hullabaloo has been created over the issue of sex, and I too fell victim to the propaganda.”
― Abhaidev, The Influencer: Speed Must Have a Limit

“The brainless wonder in his pants certainly appreciated her nearness. The stupid bastard started pounding against his zipper like a convict pounding against the bars of his cell.”
― Julie Ann Walker, Thrill Ride

“Forgive me, madam," he said lightly, amused, "but waiting to make love to you again is straining my nerves."
She scoffed but she was quite shaken; he could see it in her expression, in the way she nervously toyed with the buttons on her pelisse.
"How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you."
"You will," he insisted soothingly.
She gaped at him.
"Please continue," he urged. "I'm aching to hear the rest."
"You're as arrogant as usual."
"You missed it, though."
"I absolutely did not," she asserted.
He grinned. "You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one."
"That's absurd."
"I love you, Caroline," he softly, quickly replied, catching her off guard with such tenderness. "Move on before I decide I'm finished with this conversation, rip off your clothes, and show you how much.”
― Adele Ashworth, My Darling Caroline

“Good God! You two have got to quit that. You’re making my boy parts get bigger!”
― Julie Ann Walker, Thrill Ride

“He'd passed "ready" about three exits back.”
― Piper Vaughn, Wanting

“Oh my God, just sleep together already!”
― Stephanie R. Caffrey, Mistaken Identity

“Steep steps, and the sway of her skirt couldn't be contained. Instead of side to side, it flounced front to back, flashing Jake from behind. She cringed.
He chuckled, deep and admiring. "Sexy thigh-highs. Those blue bows along the seams do it for me."
His compliment sent heat up and between her legs. Her composure slipped. The hoop skirt would be the death of her. She would never wear one again. Sheer will pushed her up the remainder of the stairs. Once on the landing, she struggled to turn and face him. The light overhead flickered and dimmed, needing a bulb replaced. Jake's face was shadowy, but she could make out his expression, equally intense and indulgent.
She would have immediately taken to her room, but his gaze detained her. All dark heat and sinful appreciation. His face was hard cut. His mouth curved, wicked by design. Tension stretched between them. Nerves overcame her. She felt inept with this man.”
― Kate Angell, The Café Between Pumpkin and Pie

“She turned around and found him inches away. She felt time slow down. Awareness nuzzled. Arousal stirred. Impressions surfaced. He seemed to wrap around her, shift into her, and embrace her without touching, in a mystifying oneness.
Feelings swelled, and untried sensations were exchanged between them. She'd never felt anything like it. His solidness and strength stroked her physically. She wanted to touch him, to press her palms over his chest, to feel his heart pulse beneath her fingers.”
― Kate Angell, The Café Between Pumpkin and Pie

“It was apparent Jake had taken a hot shower. The air was scented with amber and musk. Enticingly male. She spotted him when he turned away from the sink and cut her a look, sharp with surprise. He was a heart-stopper. He stood nearly nude. A knotted towel hung low on his hip bones. The gap near his groin was shadowed. Neither managed a word. Silence held between them. Engulfing and immodest.
She dared to stare. His masculinity merged with the mist. Her gaze flicked over his damp hair, hard face, and thick-muscled chest. Alpha and carnal. All slickened sexiness and raw strength. His legs were long and strong. His feet big and bare.
A sigh escaped, low and throaty. She sagged against the doorframe. A dead giveaway that she liked what she saw--- a little too much. She was so into him that she twitched when he said, "Are you flashing me, Hannah? Bra and pretty pink panties.”
― Kate Angell, The Café Between Pumpkin and Pie

“He introduced her to him slowly. A hard man showing his soft side. A slight shift of his shoulders and he grasped her hips. She was a small woman. Delicately boned. Their thighs brushed and his sex pressed her belly, as their bodies became acquainted.
She raised her hands between them. Skimming her fingers over the cut and contour of his muscles, then tracing the arrow of his chest hair down to his groin. He liked her hands on him. Tentative and appreciative. She squeezed his length. His throat constricted. He moaned.
The moment was seamless, timeless. He took great pleasure in foreplay. Kissing her gently. Then again with thrusting intent. Mating with her mouth and mimicking sex.”
― Kate Angell, The Café Between Pumpkin and Pie

“Should you move in, I do hope you come to think of this as your home as well." He stepped closer to me, dark brown eyes searching mine. His eyelashes were so long and lush, and his gaze was so penetrating. I could feel my knees going weak. He really was unfairly attractive. "Other than those two limitations you will have full, unrestricted use of this apartment."
I swallowed, trying to regulate my breathing. "I... I think I can live with that."
"Wonderful." This time, he allowed his smile to stretch across his entire face. "Now with that out of the way---shall we tour the apartment?”
― Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is a Vampire

“But the moment Frederick buried his face between my legs it was clear there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing than this. He tasted and licked, breathing me in as he took his sweet, deliberate time. My fingertips found purchase on his shoulders, and I clung to them for dear life as he teased me, the wool of the sweater he still wore deliciously smooth against my bare legs.
My head fell back against the pillow again and I writhed on the mattress, bucking up towards his mouth in search of greater friction, needing more. But he wouldn't be rushed. His hands gripped my hips harder as my body sought to move against him, keeping me pinned helplessly to the mattress in the exact spot he wanted me. I whined in delicious agony as he traced the shape of my clit with the achingly soft flat of his tongue, dancing around the direct contact my body was screaming for. I could feel how wet I was growing, could hear the sharp keening sounds I was making as if from a distance. But he would not be rushed by my desperation as he kissed, and lapped, and tasted.
"Frederick." I tangled my fingers in his soft hair and tugged, moaning. I was going to pieces. I was out of my head with need. "Please."
At my naked plea something must have broken inside him. He groaned, long and loud, the reverberations from it sending sparks of sensation rocketing down my spine---
And then, at last, his tongue was right there, licking me senseless as his lips closed around my clit. He sucked gently, then with greater pressure, and the room, the bed beneath us, fell away. The world collapsed down to a pinprick, nothing existing anymore outside of Frederick and the exquisite, cresting pleasure.
"Oh, god," I moaned, bucking against his mouth. I was outside of myself, outside of reason. "Please---"
My orgasm came upon me like a tidal wave--- devastating, and all-consuming, my toes curling with the spine-melting pleasure of it. Distantly, I could feel Frederick shifting on the bed, kissing his way up my body, whispering praise to my bare legs, my stomach, my breasts.”
― Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is a Vampire

“Welcome to the world of haute cuisine, sweetheart."
Her breath catches in her throat.
Sweetheart.
She knows he's being sarcastic, but the word echoes around inside her skull and makes her feel so terribly strange. Tingly. Oddly warm. Her heart picks up in pace and her skin burns like soft fire. A tiny voice in the back of her head craves to hear him say it again.
Alexander leans forward, officially leaving no space between them. They're so close that all it would take is for Eden to tilt her chin up just so for their lips to touch.
"Here's what's going to happen," he says, tone low and smooth. He smells like peppermint toothpaste and clean laundry, hints of hazelnuts and vanilla lingering just beneath the surface.
"Chef?" she mumbles, mesmerized by the warmth radiating off of his body.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“His hands graze her hips on either side, his dark eyes glued to her lips. "You know what your problem is?"
Eden's knees tremble as a wet heat pools between her legs. God, what is even happening right now? "What?" she rasps.
"You're too soft."
"What's wrong with being soft?"
Alexander's lips whisper across hers. It's not quite a kiss, but it's pretty damn close. She can feel his breath against her cheeks as he speaks, the tips of their noses bumping lightly against each other.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“Can we go back to making out now?"
He laughs, feeling better and lighter than he has in ages. "Fuck, yes."
Alexander knows he's probably being overdramatic, but kissing Eden is the best damn thing in the world. It was never like this with him and Bea. Not even for a second. With Bea, it was clinical and formulaic and rigid. But with Eden, he's never been so gladly out of his element before.
Everything about her excites him to no end. He feels like a teenager because it's only been two seconds into kissing her and he's rock hard again. Eden seems to know this, deliberately rotating her hips against him to send pleasure flooding through his body.
He knows it's too soon to do anything with her. He really likes her, and he doesn't want to mess things up by moving too fast. But at the same time, Alexander desperately wants her out of her clothes, splayed out in front of him, ready for him to have like a starving man at an open buffet.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“There, as good as---"
She turns, her sentence fading into nothing. She licks her lips, watching Alexander with an intense intrigue. They've drawn together like magnets.
He really wants her. She really wants him.
Alexander just might break his own rules. Just for her.
She whispers, "We should really..."
"What?" he whispers, just as soft.
"What, um..." Eden swallows, breathless.
Alexander takes a deep breath, soaking in the warmth of her body. His blood is on fire, and his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He adores how her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink, or the way her plump lips part in anticipation, or how her pupils are blown wide.
She drives him fucking wild.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“EfterÃ¥t är vi bara tvÃ¥ killar i en bil som hÃ¥ller pÃ¥ med nÃ¥gon sorts omöjlig yoga.”
― Bryan Washington, Memorial

“And looking away didn't save me from Vale's stare, because I could feel his eyes the way one can sense a wolf stalking them in the forest.

Except I wanted to be caught.”
― Carissa Broadbent, Six Scorched Roses

“Gail leapt from bed and went to sit in the tiny bathroom, seething with grief and anger. Then tears began to roll down her cheeks. To consider that her husband was arousing her as he spoke of his betrayal made her want to jump into the shower. That he expected this kind of arousal from her in a culture so far flung, confused her. The fact that he was not a virgin and further, that he hadn’t bothered to tell her this before the wedding, felt shameful.
Waves of rage washed over the building layers of regret for marrying Rich. The way he played with her in the telling of it!
His physical foreplay had readied her to try again, but now a sick feeling of remorse and hatred claimed her body. Gail stepped into the shower and steamed away her confusion, her disgust.
Gail wiped her tears and asked Rich to go sleep on the couch while in the same sentence informing him that she would be seeking counsel in the morning. She omitted saying what kind of counsel she would seek. She hardly knew herself.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“Will you beg if I don't give it to you, Dina?" he whispered in her ear, sending a tremble right to her core. She would, she'd beg. With one rough tug he pulled her underwear off.
"Yes," she hissed as he caressed the seam of her pussy, his fingers rubbing against her clit with just the right amount of friction. She wasn't sure how long she could last.
When he plunged his fingers inside of her, Dina cried out. How could it feel so good? Had it ever felt this good with anyone else?
"Tell me, Dina. Is this all for me?" Scott growled against her throat.
"Yes, take it. Take me." She shuddered as his fingers pressed deeper, as she rode the palm of his hand.
"So fucking wet," he groaned. The hard press of his cock against her ass cheeks nearly sent her into a frenzy as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.
"Bend over for me so I can see you," he said, and Dina bent forward, resting her arms on the bed.
Scott was gone for a split second, and as his fingers left her she already felt bereft.
"Please, please," she moaned again, now on all fours.
"Such a pretty cunt," Scott said, his voice breaking apart behind her.
Then suddenly the emptiness ended, and Scott's mouth was there, licking, sucking at her pussy. Drinking her in. Dina let out a cry of pleasure as the tickle of Scott's beard brushed against her folds.
He buried his face in her pussy, his tongue pushing inside her, flicking back and forth. And then his fingers were there as his mouth found her clit and sucked and kissed and then the orgasm broke through Dina, arching her back in pleasure, and she grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheets. Scott didn't let up; he continued to hold her there, burying his face deeper into her seam.
"Good girl," he said, lifting Dina back up as if she weighed nothing. She was glad to have his hands on her. She wasn't sure she'd be able to use her legs at that moment.
She faced Scott, looking up at him through half-closed eyes. The aftermath of the orgasm still rippled through her in electric shockwaves. But she still wanted more, needed more.
She needed to be filled by him.”
― Nadia El-Fassi, Best Hex Ever

“Rule one for fucking a wolf, June," Dom growled into my ear, making me shiver. "Dominance is everything."
The urgency tightened inside of me more and more with every stroke. I couldn't move, and it excited me.
Dom's mouth took mine. Biting and pressing hungrily. I was desperate for him. Desperate for his lips, desperate for climax.
"June," Dom warned.
I was too breathless to answer, panting, and nodding with fervor.
Yes. Yes! Please.
My wolf agreed passionately. We were an animal in heat. Fucking Dom was the only thing either of us could think of.
Dom thrust upward in one last strong jerk. "Let me see your eyes, June!"
He commanded me. I mean really commanded me. My wolf couldn't say no. I couldn't say no. I looked him in the eye as I lost it all.
"Ah!" A short, breathy yell left me as everything in me rose higher and higher toward that sweet release. The moment I felt his last thrust and the spilling of him inside me, I went to pieces.
My body tensed, riding him hard as we both came. It was both better and worse that I couldn't even move my hands, I was fully on display in my most vulnerable moment.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Wolves

“She said, 'We don't have to talk about anything. I just want to feel you inside me again.”
― Mr. Joshua Shaw, I Took a Plane to Die in Denver

“Some days it's still 'f*ck you.'

Other days I still want you to f*ck me.”
― Mr. Joshua Shaw, I Took a Plane to Die in Denver

“He watched me like he’d forgotten how to blink—eyes trailing every movement, hungry in a way that felt dangerous. Like he might devour me just for breathing wrong. And God help me, I wanted to breathe wrong.”
― Viola Wilde, Between Them: Forbidden night with my Brother's two Best Friends