Fabiola

“Take off your shirt," I said, sitting up and pulling at the hem of the garment.

"Why?" he asked, but sat up and obliged. I knelt in front of him, admiring his naked body.

"Because I want to look at you," I said. He was beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He raised his eyebrows.

"Well then, fair's fair. Take off yours, then." He reached out and helped me squirm out of the wrinkled chemise, pushing it down over my hips. Once it was off, he held me by the waist, studying me with intense interest. I grew almost embarrassed as he looked me over.

"Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" I asked.

"Aye, but not one so close." His face broke into a broad grin. "And not one that's mine.”
― Diana Gabaldon, Outlander

“Y, por mucho que se sentimentalizara, este asunto del sexo era una de las relaciones y ataduras más antiguas y sórdidas. Los poetas que lo glorificaban eran hombres la mayoría. Las mujeres siempre habían sabido que había algo mejor, algo más elevado. Y ahora lo sabían con más certeza que nunca. La libertad hermosa y pura de una mujer era infinitamente más maravillosa que cualquier amor sexual. La única desgracia era que los hombres estuvieran tan retrasados en este asunto con respecto a las mujeres.”
― D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover

“Names have power, and gods felt the tug of theirs like a hook in their gills, pulling them into the open.”
― Hannah Kaner, Godkiller

“you are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires”
― Anthony Bridgerton