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4006b90
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She learned that an act intended to express love could have nothing to do with it. That her heart and her body were different things.
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heart
lovemaking
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Jhumpa Lahiri |
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7872e65
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You've sinned, I suppose, but your punishment has been out of all proportion. They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good. And I see that clearly - that business about marginal conditionings. Music and the sexual act, literature and art, all must be a source now not of pleasure but of pain.
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lovemaking
society
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Anthony Burgess |
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79d393b
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Delimitation is always difficult. The world is one, life is one. The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence - the act of love, for instance; music, for instance.
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violence
music
lovemaking
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Anthony Burgess |
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a488710
|
"What?" Lucien laughed. "Yes--all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It's an honor to be chosen, but it's his instincts that select her." "But you were there--and other male faeries." My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there--and they'd thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans. "Ah." Lucien chuckled. "Well, Tam's not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we're free to mingle. Though it's not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too." He shrugged off that invisible hand a second time, and his eyes fell upon the hills. "You're lucky I found you when I did, though," he said. "Because he would have smelled you, and claimed you, but it wouldn't have been Tamlin who brought you into that cave." His eyes met mine, and a chill went over me. "And I don't think you would have liked it. Tonight is not for lovemaking."
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great-rite
maiden
high-lord
feyre
tamlin
lovemaking
lucien
power
instincts
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Sarah J. Maas |
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cad90d2
|
She felt enthralled by him, enthralled by her own sexuality. He bared something in her that she hadn't even known was there before she married him. Something base, primal. Had it always been there, this fierce drive to ? Or was it something that had been engendered by his touching her? Her touching him? She knew that she should be wary of this part of herself. Ladies were often exhorted to ignore any animal urges. To be polite. Formal. Cold. But the flames of her desire, meeting and burning higher with his compulsion, were intoxicating. It felt . Too good to ignore. Too good to give up. And when his fingers traced the wetness of her vulva, into the depths of her pleasure, she cried out, her eyes still caught with his. He smiled, crooked and sinister because of his scar, but a smile nonetheless. A smile that wasn't exactly nice or gentlemanly. But a smile that was all for her. Only her. No man- no - had ever looked at her so before.
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sexual-desire
lovemaking
raphael-de-chartres
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Elizabeth Hoyt |
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0aa7124
|
"This?" He thrust short and hard into her, the impact sending jolts of pleasure through her body. "Yes, that," he murmured to himself as if pleased, and did it again. And again. Until the heat between them combusted. Until she felt hot liquid wash over her limbs. Until she looked up and wondered why she'd ever thought his gray eyes emotionless. He was watching her with passion. With lust. With so much love. She felt tears in her eyes. He groaned above her, his hips jerking without rhythm, but all the while he watched her with those eyes. And when he at last stilled and rested his sweaty forehead against hers, he whispered, "I love you."
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iris-and-raphael
lovemaking
raphael-de-chartres
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Elizabeth Hoyt |