Sexual Desire Quotes

“It's probably not easy for a woman to understand what it's like to be a man. Imagine you're starving, and someone puts a huge buffet in front of you. There's delicious, mouth-watering food all around you, and it's really really hard not to eat it all. That's what it's like to be a man around attractive women. The urge to want to hump everything that moves is part of a man's natural programming. It's a deep-seated hunger. To suppress that hunger takes civilization and a lot of willpower.”
― Oliver Markus, Why Men And Women Can't Be Friends

“As he turned back to her, Cassandra stood on her toes to kiss him. He claimed his reward immediately, fitting his mouth to hers and taking a long, ardent taste. Her head swam, and she welcomed the exploration of his tongue. He savored and consumed her, with a kiss more aggressive than any he'd given her before. It made her knees weak and turned her bones fluid. Her body listed toward his and was instantly gathered into the hard urgency of his embrace. Desire curled through her in hot tendrils that insinuated themselves in deep, private places. Her throat caught on a whimper of protest as his mouth lifted from hers.
"We'd better start negotiating," he said raggedly. "The first issue is how much time you'll want to spend with me."
"All of it," Cassandra said, and sought his lips again.
Tom chuckled. "I would. I... oh, you're so sweet... no, I'm... God. It's time to stop. Really." He crushed his mouth against her hair to avoid her kisses. "You're about to be deflowered in the library."
"Didn't that already happen?" she asked, and felt the shape of his smile.
"No," he whispered, "you're still a virgin. Albeit slightly more experienced than two days ago." He brought his mouth closer to her ear. "Did you like what I did?"
She nodded, her face turning so hot that she could feel her cheeks throb. "I wanted more."
"I'd like to give you more. As soon as possible.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“So much of sexual desire comes from the belief that another body can alleviate our aloneness. It can’t do that, but people believe it can. When one body doesn’t work, they look for another. When we don't feel alone, we don't look for anyone’s body or personality to fill the void. There is no void.”
― Donna Goddard, Purnima

“It seemed improbable that men really wanted sex this badly, and yet they did, there was an entire economy based on how badly they wanted it, and for a moment Margo understood the sexual desire she felt was mild in comparison She would never pay fifteen dollars to look at a guy naked.”
― Rufi Thorpe, Margo's Got Money Troubles

“Do you know what I think?"she asked, rearranging the blanket to wear around her shoulders like a shawl.
"Not this again."
"I think there's more to you than you let people believe. I think you actually do care what people think. Oh sure, it's fun having everyone think you're dangerous and cold, but inside, where it matters, you're just warm pudding."
"Warm pudding?"
"Quite," she uttered confidently, with a firm nod.
The things that came out of that woman's mouth never failed to astound him. "Well, I'm going to... to leave now," he said slowly, as if he thought her the strangest creature on earth- just to tease her. When she laughed at herself, he smiled and muttered, "Good night, my sweet Charlotte." Fists on the edge of the couch, he made to push himself up.
"Wait," she said. And he froze.
Slowly, she sat up more fully, swinging her legs down. Which put her knees between his planted fists.
He couldn't help but give a low chuckle. "Charlotte, if I didn't know you better, I would venture to say that you are deliberately tempting me."
"Tempting you to what?" she asked, her tone utterly oblivious.
He had had enough. "Remember that little problem I forewarned you about? The one about a man and a woman never being able to become friends because lust gets in the way? That eventually, one or both of us would end up wanting something very intimate from the other?"
She nodded jerkily.
"Well, I'm there. I've been there. For years.”
― Olivia Parker, To Wed a Wicked Earl

“She crept toward him, padding noiselessly over the carpet, step by silent step. And as she came, sweet words fell from her lips like drops of raw honey.
"That's it, darling," she murmured.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck lifted.
"Stay... right... there."
The hairs on his arms lifted, too.
"Yes," she breathed. "Just like that."
Now she had the hairs on his calves involved. Damn it, he had too many hairs. By the end of this they would all be standing at attention.
Along with other parts of him.
"Don't stir," she said.
He couldn't speak for the parrot, but Gabe was doing some stirring. One part of him had a mind of its own, especially when it came to beautiful women in translucent chemises. He hadn't lain with a woman in some time, but his body hadn't forgotten how.
He couldn't help himself. He stole a glance at her face. Just a half-second's view. Not long enough to pore over every detail of her features. In fact, he didn't get any further than her lips. Lips as lush as petals, painted in soft, tender pink.
She was so close now. Near enough that when he breathed, he inhaled a lungful of her scent. She smelled delicious. A faint hunger rose in his chest.”
― Tessa Dare, The Wallflower Wager

“Lucian groaned, the sound almost animal. I arched my back in response, pulled by his need, my bared breast coming closer to the wall of his chest. I wanted to feel his skin on mine.
But he didn't move. He gripped the edge tighter, his body working with heaving pants. "Fuck," he whispered. His pale gaze flicked to mine, a furrow knitting between his brows. "I want a taste. Please. God. Please, Em."
That he was undone nearly had me sliding under the water. But the need in his eyes made me whimper. Lids heavy with desire, I nodded, and he swallowed hard, his expression becoming fierce.
"Just a taste," he said, as if to hold himself to that. I whimpered, and his hot gaze snared with mine. Something passed over his expression----determination, reassurance, I couldn't tell; lust and need had scattered all rational thought. "Just a taste," he said again.
"Take it," I whimpered, barely able to form the words.
Lucian let out a breath, his mouth moving closer. "Fuck. Em... lift that sweetness up for me."
My breath left in a swoosh, everything squeezing with a lovely tightness. With a shaking hand, I cupped my breast and lifted it out of the water. Offering myself to him.
On a groan, he ducked his head. The hot, wet flat of his tongue dragged over my cold flesh. I let out a cry, a bolt of pleasure punching to my core.
He made a sound of pure hunger, his lips gently kissing the tip before he sucked it deep...”
― Kristen Callihan, Make It Sweet

“The taste of him lingered on her lips; she could smell him on her clothes. It was almost as though he stood there with her still. She put her fingers up to her lips; they felt chafed and tender and thoroughly, properly, used for perhaps the first time ever. A white heat of desire threaded through her veins again; it stole her breath. She closed her eyes.
She knew now what his beautiful mouth could do. It could prod her with sarcasm and truth and wit. It could devastate her with tenderness; it could relentlessly build a storm of pleasure in her. It could own her until that storm broke over her.
Oh, and after that, too. Because she couldn't imagine now ever drinking her fill of him.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“She most definitely had an instinct for passion, an instinct that matched his own, that had nearly caused him to lose his head. Well, now he knew her skin was petal smooth; he knew the rich wine of her mouth; he knew the feel of that delicate, puckered nipple rubbed against his cheek---”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“[…] fantasy does not exist comfortably with reality. It has a natural tendency to realise itself: to remake the world in its own image. The harmless wanker with the video-machine can at any moment, turn into the desperate rapist with a gun. The 'reality principle' by which the normal sexual act is regulated is a principle of personal encounter, which enjoins us to respect the other person, and to respect, also, the sanctity of his body, as the tangible expression of another self. The world of fantasy obeys no such rule, and is governed by monstrous myths and illusions which are at war with the human world — the illusions, for example, that women wish to be raped, that children have only to be awakened in order to give and receive the intensest sexual pleasure, that violence is not an affront but an affirmation of a natural right. All such myths, nurtured in fantasy, threaten not merely the consciousness of the man who lives by them, but also the moral structure of his surrounding world. They render the world unsafe for self and other, and cause the subject to look on everyone, not as an end in himself, but as a possible means to his private pleasure. In his world, the sexual encounter has been 'fetishised', to use the apt Marxian term, and every other human reality has been poisoned by the sense of the expendability and replaceability of the other.”
― Roger Scruton, Sexual Desire: A Philosophical Investigation

“She inhaled sharply as she felt him nuzzle the fragile wisps of hair at her nape. "How soft you are," he breathed. "Like silk. Like kitten fur."
The touch of his lips sent a ripple through the overheated core of her body. "Nick, I-"
"Mrs. Trench told me that you tried the shower-bath." His hand coasted from her hip to the indentation of her waist. "Did you like it?"
"It was very refreshing," Lottie managed to say.
"I'm going to watch you the next time."
"Oh, no you won't!"
He laughed quietly and offered, "I'll let you watch me, then."
Before she could stop herself, Lottie imagined him standing in the shower-bath, the water coursing and gliding over his skin, darkening his hair, steam veiling his sapphire eyes. The image was a vague one, as she had never seen a naked man, only the engraved images in an anatomy book she had found in Lord Westcliff's library. She had pored over the drawings with fascination, wishing that certain details had been more fully articulated.
Soon she would not have to wonder.
He seemed to read her thoughts. "It's not wrong to like it," he said, stroking her midriff with his palm. "Whom will it benefit if you deny yourself pleasure? You're paying the price for my protection- you may as well get some enjoyment out of it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He heard the rattle of pipes as Lottie started the shower-bath, and then her hesitant tap at the door.
"I've brought your dressing robe," came her muffled voice. Her hand appeared around the doorframe with the burgundy velvet clutched between her fingers.
Nick looked at her small hand, the tender inside of her wrist with the little tracing of veins. Last night it had been easy to find every throb of her pulse, every vulnerable place of her body. He found himself reaching out, ignoring the robe in favor of wrapping his fingers around her delicate wrist. He pushed the door fully open and pulled her in front of him, looking down into her flushed face. It was not difficult for her to see what he wanted.
"I don't need a robe," he said gruffly, pulling the garment from her hand and dropping it to the floor.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“I'm perspiring." He had only just now realized that he was likely ruining her gown. "I was training." He tried to push her away, but she only brought his mouth to hers.
"Yes, I know. I saw. It's why I'm rather in a hurry."
So the look she had given him hadn't been censure after all. She had been fighting her desire for him. It was as plain as day in her eyes. He laughed, and the beast in him slipped the reins, clawing at her clothing as he tried to find her beneath it.”
― Harper St. George, The Devil and the Heiress

“She broke off as her helpful directions were extinguished by the sweet, hot shock of his mouth on hers.
It was not the kiss a friend would give. It was heat and demand, fused in a raw sensuality that demolished her balance. Her gloved hands slid up to grip his broad shoulders. The kiss went on and on, exploring deliciously, wringing sensation from her mouth. One of his hands wandered over here back, stroking her spine into a pleasured arch. Her breasts felt full and tender, and she longed for him to touch them... kiss them... oh, God, she'd lost her mind.
She felt how hard he was all around her, every muscle taut. His breath rode roughshod on every powerful rise and fall of his chest. Reaching down, he gripped her hips to pull them high against an unmistakably rigid, swollen shape. She thought of how it would feel to lie spread beneath him, with all that hardness inside her, and a faint moan slipped from her throat.
MacRae licked at the sound as if he could taste it, and broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. Their panting breaths mingled.
It was hard to speak with him still clasping her hips against his. Every part of her was throbbing.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Attracted to her as he'd been to no other before, he was incorrigibly titillated and aroused. Though his enchantment was unsuitable and could never be acted upon, he lusted after her with a foolhardiness that was frightening.
He wanted to have her and exploit her in every manner a man could possibly covet a woman. The sentiments she inspired were feral, animalistic, ungovernable, an irrepressible compulsion that was beyond his cognition or command. He couldn't fight the restless impulses she inspired nor was he inclined to; he simply desired her with a negligent impetuosity that was manic in its intensity.”
― Cheryl Holt, Total Surrender

“Sense yearnings sap your inner peace; they are like openings in a reservoir that permit vital waters to be wasted in the desert soil of materialism.”
― Paramahansa Yogananda, Autobiography of a Yogi

“A person that can not control his stomach, can also not control his sexual desires and all other senses.”
― Mzee Bryan Moseni Kabamba

“Rohan took a seat on the old, thronelike chair in the center of the great hall and drummed his fingers on his sword's hilt in kingly impatience.
After all, the sooner he finished here, the sooner he could go unwrap his little "present." His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he permitted himself to think about her briefly. Even now, his instincts were wide-awake with a very male awareness of a woman in his house.
Waiting for him in his bed.
He had wanted her gone from the great hall in case stronger measures were needed to remind his unruly tenants of his authority. He did not wish any female to witness his capacity for violence.
Besides, he did not need the distraction of those beautiful breasts clamoring for his attention. He'd get to know them better soon enough, every silky inch of her.
His people knew what he liked; he was decidedly pleased with their peace offering. This luscious young token of their apology left him feeling much more disposed to forgive. Indeed, the prospect of spending the next few nights in this abominable stone crypt of a castle suddenly looked a good deal more agreeable.
Coming out here to the middle of nowhere, he had expected to have to go without his daily dose of sex, a real inconvenience for a man of his elemental nature. He had a rule, after all, against poaching on the locals.
He wanted to be feared, not hated. But, hell, if they were going to offer her up on a silver platter, far be it from him to refuse such a delicious-looking morsel.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Rohan shrugged off the chill, but such eerie thoughts made him all the more glad they had brought him the girl. On so foul a night, it would be good to have a warm body beside him in bed. And beneath him, and on top of him...
He cleared his throat, eager to get his hands on her.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“I can give you a very good life, Kate. London, Paris. Anywhere. All you need to do is fulfill the desire that I think you already feel. We both do."
Her heart was pounding, her cheeks flaming crimson.
Never in all her life did she think she, Kate Madsen, would receive an indecent proposition from a worldly, gorgeous, and fabulously wealthy duke.
At first, she was so embarrassed and confused she could not even look at him. She did not want him to see in her eyes that he already had her half-seduced, and had since the night of her arrival.
She swallowed hard. "Your Grace---I am a virgin."
"I realize that," he purred, "and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?"
"No---it's not that." She couldn't believe he was doing this to her, putting her in this position---and worse, that she didn't mind that much. Indeed, nothing sounded sweeter than for him to lay her down tonight and make all her problems go away in a luxurious night of pleasure.
But he was offering her far more than just one night.
The chance to keep him in her life for some period of time into the foreseeable future was a thrilling prospect. It was the proof she had been seeking that this hard, unyielding man did care for her, in his own way.
"What are your thoughts?" he asked.
Kate peeked at him shyly from under her lashes.
It wasn't marriage, which she believed she could probably find without too much trouble. Safe, boring, biddable men were easy enough to come by---but Rohan?
A fierce, wild creature like a wolf?
"Belong to me," he whispered, staring into her eyes.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“She drew his warm, oversized robe closer around her body, suddenly feeling lost, not knowing how to act.
"Well, go get dressed," he ordered with a lordly little smile as he noticed her wavering. "How's a man to think with a luscious naked woman lying around? You, my dear, are far too distracting."
His smoldering gaze, so full of desire for her, thrilled Kate to the marrow. His glance alone could warm her blood on this cold winter's day.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“A minute, perhaps more, passed before she became aware she'd stopped swabbing altogether, and had been standing very still instead, watching the fair, fernlike trail that traveled from his flat belly up between his ribs rise and fall, rise and fall, with his quickening breath.
He turned his head, slowly, slowly lifted his eyes up to hers.
This... this was desire. Not the near-chaste kiss pressed upon her earlier today by another man, but this thing that made a tyrant of her senses, that made it seem absurd to stand this close to him and not taste the smooth curve of his shoulder, not trail a finger along the hair that began between his ribs and disappeared into his trousers. This thing that sealed the two of them in heated, fraught silence; that suddenly made thought seem pointless, even frivolous beyond words.
But in this moment it didn't matter at all to Susannah whether Kit had made love to one woman or a million, it didn't matter at all to her whether he saw her as just a body from whom to take pleasure. She didn't care whether he was here for her sake, or for the sake of Caroline Allston. She wanted him with an incinerating ferocity, because in a sense it was all she had to give to him.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“He watched her sleep with some complex emotion; it seemed to have tiers and facets, and the moment he managed to get one facet in focus, another one winked into prominence. He'd begun to suspect he was a romantic, despite everything, and the thought irritated him and amused him. It was a tremendously inconvenient thing to be, and not at all what one expected to find lurking in the heart of a spy.
Today... how easy it would have been to slide a hand over the small of her back, pull her forward into his bare chest, and touch his lips at last, at last, to that soft, soft mouth. He was, in fact, dangerously close to needing to know how her mouth would feel against his. He'd watched the pulse beating in her smooth throat, and for an extraordinary moment he'd had every intention of pressing his mouth against it... after he'd tasted her lips, of course.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“The monster embodies those sexual practices that must not be committed, or that may be committed only through the body of the monster.”
― Jeffery Jerome Cohen

“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

“We must not attempt to find an absolute in the flesh. Banish play and laughter from the bed of love and you may let in a false goddess. She will be even falser than the Aphrodite of the Greeks; for they, even while they worshipped her, knew that she was "laughter-loving". The mass of the people are perfectly right in their conviction that Venus is a partly comic spirit. We are under no obligation at all to sing all our love-duets in the throbbing, world-without-end, heart-breaking manner of Tristan and Isolde; let us often sing like Papageno and Papagena instead.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

“He was probably just sleep-deprived and insatiably horny and it was messing with his head.
"Was your head feeling particularly full of something?" she asked innocently.
He couldn't help himself any longer. He looked down at Dina and, fuck, she was there, stark naked. His brain short-circuited; it was too much. Moonlight bounced off her deep honeyed skin.
"Fuck, Dina. Look at you." Scott's voice was hoarse. She stared up at him with molten eyes. She was perfect, fuck, she was perfect. Just as he'd imagined--- no, better than he'd imagined.
The curve of her hips, the softness of her belly and the swell of her breasts, her nipples stiff. For him. His eyes feasted their way down her body, to her inner thighs. If he kissed her there, would she be wet for him?
Her face was only hunger, only lust. He needed to have her.”
― Nadia El-Fassi, Best Hex Ever

“When he'd turned to look at her and noticed that she was naked, his eyes were suddenly all darkness and desire. Wetness had immediately slicked her inner thighs. Her pussy had throbbed for him. Ached for him to touch her. And then he had, and she was moaning against him and it was like they fit together.”
― Nadia El-Fassi, Best Hex Ever

“She was acutely aware that she was naked, her thighs splayed on either side of Scott's, her pussy only inches away from his cock. All it would take was for her to lift up her hips and tip forward, and she could feel him deep inside her.
She'd always known she fell into a more submissive role, but she'd never been able to give in to it as much as she had tonight. It was like Scott had seen into every one of her fantasies and brought them to life. She could trust him to take charge and to keep her safe.
And she wanted nothing else than to be pounded into oblivion.”
― Nadia El-Fassi, Best Hex Ever

“She wanted to climb him like a tree. Wanted to feel his hardness between her legs, giving her pleasure. She moaned in approval when he slipped a leg in between hers and rubbed against the spot desperate for attention. She was greedy, unashamed, uninhibited riding his thigh. Their tongues tangled together, sliding against each other in the same slow, determined rhythm as their lower body parts.”
― Jamie Wesley, A Legend in the Baking