Emi

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Shireen Ayache
“A few days ago, it hurt just to look at her. And now, it hurts when I don’t.”
Shireen Ayache, Card of Truth

Lisa Kleypas
“Feeling the little tremors that ran through her body, he dipped his head and kissed the side of her throat. Her senses responded to the persuasive heat of his mouth, so erotic and tender... the searching fingers that slid over the curve of her breast.
Hearing her muffled whimper, he took her mouth in a consuming kiss. Feebly she turned her face away, her lips tingling from the exquisite friction. "No, Sebastian."
He rubbed his face against her hair and the top of her head. Something about the situation, or his own reaction to it, must have struck a chord of humor, for he let out a soft, sardonic laugh. "You'll have to think of a way to solve this, Evie. Think of something fast... because otherwise..." He paused to nip hungrily at her ear, "... otherwise I'm about to screw you senseless.”
Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

Lisa Kleypas
“I don't have the damned time for a tumble. And if I did---" He stopped abruptly. All semblance of the elegant viscount Evie had once watched from afar in Lord Westcliff's drawing room had vanished. He was rumpled and bruised and furious. And he wasn't breathing at all well. "If I did--" He broke off again, a flush crossing the crests of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
Evie saw the exact moment when his self-restraint snapped. Alarm jolted through her, and she lurched toward the closed door. Before she had even made a step, she found herself seized and pinned against the wall by his body and hands. The smell of sweat-dampened linen and healthy, aroused male filled her nostrils.
Once he had caught her, Sebastian pressed his parted lips against the thin skin of her temple. His breath snagged. Another moment of stillness. Evie felt the electrifying touch of his tongue at the very tip of her eyebrow. He breathed against the tiny wet spot, a waft of hellfire that sent chills through her entire body. Slowly he brought his mouth to her ear, and traced the intricate inner edges.
His whisper seemed to come from the darkest recesses of her own mind. "If I did, Evie... then by now I would have shredded your clothes with my hands and teeth until you were naked. By now I would have pushed you down to the carpet, and put my hands beneath your breasts and lifted them up to my mouth. I would be kissing them... licking them... until the tips were like hard little berries, and then I would bite them so gently..."
Evie felt herself drift into a slow half swoon as he continued in a ragged murmur. "... I would kiss my way down to your thighs... inch by inch... and when I reached those sweet red curls, I would lick through them, deeper and deeper, until I found the little pearl of your clitoris... and I would rest my tongue on it until I felt it throb. I would circle it, and stroke it... I'd lick until you started to beg. And then I would suck you. But not hard. I wouldn't be that kind. I would do it so lightly, so tenderly, that you would start screaming with the need to come... I would put my tongue inside you... taste you... eat you. I wouldn't stop until your entire body was wet and shaking. And when I had tortured you enough, I would open your legs and come inside you, and take you... take you..."
Sebastian stopped, anchoring her against the wall while they both remained frozen, aroused, panting.
At length, he spoke in a nearly inaudible voice. "You're wet, aren't you?”
Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

“Is that what you need to hear from me? That I love you? I do, Bree. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the first day I saw you, even if I was too stupid to know what real love was. I’ve never stopped loving you. Even through my screwups. Even through yours.”
A.M. Wilson, Strayed: Special Edition Paperback

Samantha Verant
“You know what? You're kind of growing on me too."
"Like mold?" I ask.
"No, you smell too good," he says, turning his back to me. "I know your kitchen is well equipped. I hope you have a rice steamer."
"Duh," I say, mentally kicking myself for my unprofessional response. "Of course I do."
I walk over to the cabinet and step up onto my toes, but I can't reach the damn contraption. Charles steps up behind me, reaches over my head, and grabs it before it tumbles on my head. For two brief seconds, his body presses into mine, his hands steadying my waist. I swear he's breathing me in. And I'm doing the same. He grabs the steamer, sets it on the counter. But he only shifts slightly, and there's clearly something wrong with my legs; they won't budge. I think I may be paralyzed.
"Did my mother make you the perfume you're wearing?" he asks, his breath on my neck.
"Uh, yeah, she did."
"The base notes smell delicious on you," he says, his voice husky and hot.
My spine tingles. A drop of perspiration beads on my forehead. I clamp my lips together before I tell him he smells delicious too and that he's invaded my thoughts ever since I first met him on the street.”
Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

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