Best 1065 quotes in «hot quotes» category

Marriage is one sweet way in which one can taste heaven on earth. Similarly, I can also become hell on earth.

Messy hair, uncombed, gel-free, un-styled and perfectly imperfect.

Military Wives—Sacrificing Months of Sex for the Country.

My ears pricked at a sound from the bathroom, a familiar moan, and I shot up from the bed, racing to the door. Throwing it open, I froze at the sight of Gianna in the shower, with her hand between her legs. Oh, fuck no. Stalking over, I shoved the door open, snatched her wrist away, and used it to drag her up against my body. Bringing her fingers to my mouth, I licked them clean, eliciting another moan. Satisfied that I’d gotten all of her essence, I gripped both of her wrists and anchored them behind her back. “No one makes you come but me,” I snarled. “Not even you. Those sounds, your moans and screams of pleasure, they belong to me, Gianna. They are mine and I will not share them.” I stared at her with a hardened gaze, making sure my warning was clear. “If you need a release, you will come to me, or you will wait. Do you understand?

May All Your Fantasies Come True !!!!

My eyes went to him. "Your rule, honey. I can go put panties on." His eyes came to me. "You do, I get the strap.

My lone desire stands, looking like beauty on a cloud, ripe for my picking, ready for me to ravish and pleasure. Waiting for me to tempt and tease. Satisfy and gratify.

Miss Greene, when I said, "not here" I meant not on the couch.

Never loved the taste of someone before baby, but with you, I would willingly drown in it.  I’m going to devour you Tessa, from the inside out, and you’re going to come so many times that you’ll forget there even was anyone before.  Focus on us babe.  You and me together is all that will ever matter.

Nervousness from earlier surged back into me. Goodness. He was honey poured over an athletic body. Short, sandy-blond curls outlined his face, which boasted full lips, high cheek bones, and long lashes that any woman would envy. Even with those soft features, his face appeared hard and sculpted by an artist.

Never wait for the alarm clock to wake you up; your passion must wake you up against sluggish lifestyles. Positive passion keeps you hot until the work it finished!

My lover is dead. And they think I killed him. I'm running rogue. Hell bent on both revenge and redemption. Whatever it takes, I'm going to finish a job that began nine months ago. An unauthorized assignment that turned horribly, devastatingly wrong. My miscalculation. My fault. My heart left shattered into incomplete pieces which will never wholly fit back together again. But first I have to outsmart my former organization and the hired killer they've sent after me; a ghost from my past who knows my every move, who’s been inside my head, my heart, my dreams and memories: Jaxson. I'm the traitor, Kylie. The rogue mercenary, Jaxon's newest assignment. And this is our love story.

Night has settled over Paris. The streets have cleared of the crowds, and the city has been lit up. I set my book down, deciding to go for a walk. The Eiffel Tower is only a few blocks away. Now that there aren't many people out, I can walk there without having to fight my way through mobs of gawking tourists.

Now it's my turn to give you advice." The tightened his grip, eliminating any doubt about whether he was as ready for this as she was. "Any time you're talking about having hot, dirty sex that makes you come so hard your whole world turns neon, the last thing you want to bring into the conversation is the word 'little'".

Non fosse stato per il rosa pallido dei gamberi e il verde tenue delle zucchine, poteva essere un film in bianco e nero. Lei, la libraia, capelli corvini, pelle di latte, tubino nero notte. Lui, moro, pantaloni aderenti e girocollo fumo di Londra.

Now she’s talking to her soul pieces.” Siret was back to being amused over my weird brain. “Can I keep her?” He turned pleading eyes on his brothers, only for Yael to spin in a flash and deliver a punch right into the centre of his chest. “If anyone is keeping her, it’s me,” he snapped. “I won her fair and square.” Oh for fuc—“Listen up, assholes. For the last time, I’m not a piece of furniture that you guys own, and can trade around when you feel like it—

Oh hell." He gasped, his back arching, his balls drawing up painfully tight. "Don't make me come too quickly.

One-night stands are grand & all. But it hardly gives a man time to learn what a woman really likes.” I lower my voice. “Like from the way you squealed when I fingered you from behind, I’m wondering how you’d feel if it was my cock taking you that way, hard and fast, my hips slamming into your sweet, freckled ass…. But of course, now we’ll never know.” She stares at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “Yeah,” she says faintly. “I guess so.

No." I pulled away just enough to lock my eyes with his. His crooked smile sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were a deep blue darkening more as the minutes passing between us were getting hotter. "I will be the one using you, and you'll love every second, every breath, every stroke and every fucking inch of me," he said, his lips ghosting above mine.

Off fucking shitty mankind, you change the topic... you say something I say something against and immediately you change the topic, but why? The soil is too hot? The sand is too hot? Why?

Oh, doctor. I think I’m sick I need some penis-cilin.” I fake cough again into my hand.

Oh girl....Sex IS the answer!!! However... It depends on the question...

Oh, trust me, sugar, having your tight, naked ass cradled against my dick was damn alluring.” He steps closer to me and tips my chin up with his fingers. “But I wouldn’t take advantage of you when you don’t have your wits about you. When I take you, you’ll know exactly what we’re doing, what you’re feeling, and I won’t stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbors know my name.” Holy fucking hell.

One of his hands move away from my face to flatten against my back, pulling me closer to him as he deepens the kiss. He parts my lips under his as my mind seems to sign quietly in content. I kiss him back as fiercely as he kisses me, unable to control the infatuation that rushes through me - feeling almost like fireworks. Not so careful anymore. Little shivers of urgency shoot through me. I push off the window, pressing closer to him. The rush of sensation that is coursing through me feels like I've drunk a gallon of coffee. It feels like an electric buzz is flooding between us.

One should never believe the words I speak.

People are like water: Many rush pass you, as some will over-flood. Some will drown you, or force you to go their current ways. Some will be cold or hot-tempered, but try to say with the warm ones. Some will come as a raging wave and cause a ripple, or a calm sea, supporting you, quenching your thirst, and flow by your side to where kisses will always stay wet.

Photobomb me at your own risk!

Owen felt like he was bearing witness to the birth of someone new, like watching the rising of a phoenix or a snake shedding an ill-fitting skin. She hadn't taken her clothes off with the aim to seduce him, and that made the act even more enticing... Awareness, a new state of herself, that was what she was after, and in it she was glorious.

Putting his mouth close to her ear, he said, “I’m going to ride you raw, baby, but you won’t care. It’s going to feel so good, all you’ll be able to think about is getting me back inside you. Keeping me here, packed up tight and deep, screwing into you so hard you go hoarse from your screams . . .

Pyotr was the arcane hero, complete with buff body that you secretly whacked off to as a boy. And suddenly he turned and stared straight at him, some carnal fire burning in his eyes now. Pyotr walked for him slow and cautious like he was fighting his own control just then. Cliff could only gape and his eyes followed Pyotr’s hand as it reached out to clap his shoulder then moved him firmly for the car.

Oz lists the hem of his shirt, exposing his cut abs, and wipes his brow with the material. Oh my with chocolate on top. That was just beautiful.

Please get off me, please, I don't wanna to have something with you" (Well said, by a woman (The Wolf of Wall Street) ), as far as I can see I really like how is made everything, unfortunately what happens is just incrediable from one point of a view. How business man, goes will go in jail for 20 years, his wife have fuck with some kind a Swedish man, who works for her husband,.. everyone should check out this film. That's how everything goes, that's what happens backstage! Anger and agressive stuff, that's the truth, don't run from it, what I saw isn't for first time, one stuff goes in silence then in shouting other go in shouting and in shouting. To have hot chick to have everything to get so devastated?? It's fucking suicide, as for me!

Quit looking at me like that or I swear I’m going to spank that pretty little mouth of yours with my lips,” said Jack in a tone only Kate could hear.

Regin: So everybody thinks Lothaire is hotter than the sun he will never see, but I don’t get it.

Romance this moment, this hour, this day. String moments together like pearls on a rope.

Sauces or peppers that arent hot, are like books that dont entretain (or vice versa).

Re the temperature of Venus's surface No one had expected such a hot Venus

Saxon and I had no business even attempting any type of relationship with each other. We were gunpowder and one hell of a spark, and I wasn't about to test our combustibility.

Seems where you’re concerned nothing is easy, so no, I’m not making this easy when everything about you makes me hard.” I sucked in sharply at that blatant sexual reference, and swear I felt my nipples get hard. “Jack, I—

Resonating the first half of the highest quality material known to man. Previously worked out, I embraced the back story never told but retold as practical reality. All I ask and bleed, there's nothing more to be felt as a man anymore. Most rebuild to be included, invoking the awakening stages of beautiful death; resonating with frozen lakes, dirty films we made and seven million pounds of sorrow disguised as drifting smoke that showed me the path out the final frame of reference.

She was going to go to her room,munch on chocolate,then collapse into bed. And if her upstairs neighbors decided to talk about who the daddy was or cry again about how much David was loved,she'd go up there and give them somthing to really bloody cry about.

She hadn't gotten his expression quite right in her imagination, because the stunned, vacant expression on Shane's face when she started down the stairs was even better than fantasy. His mouth actually dropped open. Next to him, Michael turned around, and although she hadn't counted on it, there was a warm fuzzy to making a hot golden-angel vampire blink and give her a quick, involuntary once-over. Claire stopped on the steps above them and did a tentative hip-shimmy. "Okay?" she asked. Shane's mouth shut with a snap, and Michael actually cleared his throat. "Fine," Michael said. "Fine?" That was Eve, coming down the stairs behind Claire. She moved around the roadblock and punched Michael in the arm. "She looks amazing. I'm not half g*y and I think she's hot." Shane wasn't saying anything. Claire felt warm and a little dizzy, the way he was looking at her. She resisted the urge to check to see if her skirt was straight -- she'd done it a dozen times already --and forced herself to meet his gaze and smile. "You sure this is smart?" Shane asked, which was not what she'd expected, not at all. "You look fantastic." "Thanks -- " He interrupted her. "Fantastic in this town pops you to the top of the take-out menu." She held up her left hand and pointed to her wrist. The gold bracelet was clearly visible. "I'll be okay," she said. "The vamps won't bother me." "Not even talking about the vamps. You're going to be drawing every guy there who's looking to get off.

She wasn’t all over me because of some bad-boy fetish or because she wanted to be arm candy for Eastside’s resident badass. For the first time in my life, someone looked at me and saw…me.

She whimpered into his mouth and clung to his broad shoulders, rubbing her breasts against him to relieve the ache in her suddenly hypersensitive nipples. In answer, he took her deeper and rested more of his weight against her, that thick thigh between her legs getting her wet and ready for him. Oh God, he knew how to kiss. Knew how to tease, to seduce with his tongue until she was ready to rip his clothes off and climb his body. "You feel good, sugar,” he murmured against her mouth.

Shhh, no more talking Em, Ethan whispered.

Shh, kitten,” he whispered in English once more, nuzzling her temple, mouth open and hot against her ear. “Trust me.” His palms curved beneath her breasts, lifting them as his blunt fingertips tweaked her nipples expertly enough to have slickness gathering between her clenched thighs. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever touched. Une ange, bébé.” He groaned quietly as he caught her earlobe between his teeth. “Je t’adore,” he muttered, thrusting against her backside.

So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.

Simon had only had a few encounters with Jem Carstairs, who was apparently as old as his wife, Tessa Gray. They both looked amazingly fit for 150 years. Tessa even looked pretty hot. (Maybe Jem looked hot too? As Simon had thought once before, he probably wasn’t the greatest judge of male attractiveness.) Was it weird to think people who were twice as old as your grandparents were good-looking?

She jotted down the order, then forced herself to meet his gaze. "It's going to be a bit of a wait, we're short-staffed this morning." The following words rushed out of her. "And breakfast's on me." "Normally, I wouldn't protest," he said, leaning closer. "But in public, I'd prefer a plate." An image of Rukh, hair untied, licking whipped cream off her navel flashed through her mind, left her staring.

Sometimes we are that fly in the house, that thinks it sees an open window. So it crawls to, or flies head-on into clear glass. At times getting stuck between the storm and pane, it dies in the windowsill under a tormenting, hot sun.