Seductive Quotes

“Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess
When did you feel your
most euphoric kiss?
Was I the source
of your greatest bliss?”
― Roman Payne

“To be around someone whose self-confidence is more than what our first glance led us to expect is seductive.”
― Abraham Verghese, Cutting for Stone

“I realized that if you avoid the sin, you will also avoid the fun.”
― Rebecca Harlem, The Pink Cadillac

“Seduce yourself first.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“Seduction is an art form. It's the capturing of someone's sexual attention, whilst remaining and looking completely innocent in that movement yourself, then feeling good about the attention received, not actually needing anything else from it”
― The Conductor, The Jamange Line

“I don't know what sex appeal is. I don't think you can have sex appeal knowingly. The people who seduce me personally are the people who seem not to know they're seductive, and not to know they have sex appeal.”
― Omar Sharif

“She stepped toward Anna.
“I can get you a night with an accomplished male whore or a virginal schoolboy.” Coral’s eyes widened and seemed to flame. “Famous libertines or ragpickers off the street. One very special man or ten complete strangers. Dark men, red men, yellow men, men you’ve only dreamed of in the black of night, lonely in your bed, snug under your covers. Whatever you long for. Whatever you desire. Whatever you crave. You have only to ask me.”
Anna stared at Coral like a mesmerized mouse before a particularly beautiful snake.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, The Raven Prince

“Adam leaned down and placed his lips next to her ear. He blew gently on it before he spoke. Mona leaned even closer into him as she listened intently to his words.
"Desdemona."
She moaned at the sound of her name on his lips.
"I need to tell you something." His words were accompanied by warm air caressing her skin.
"Before my time is done, I will watch the light fade from your eyes as you are sent to the hell you so deserve." Though his words promised destruction, the cadence of his voice still held her in a seductive rapture.”
― Quinn Loftis, Beyond the Veil

“Her taste still teased my tongue, and her touch tipped my fingers. Her smile licked my lips, and her heart beat my own. So I tugged on her sheets, like it was a cape. To me, she was a God damned super hero, and underneath, was everything I need. Her super powers on top of me.”
― J. Raymond

“When you make a film, if you are an insider, you're usually the last person to know that your film is not right. But when you are an outsider, you have a little more objectivity.I think a part of my success is that I am naturally objective. I am not an insider.In many ways, Anupama is the same.
Foreword, First Day First Show”
― Shah Rukh Khan

“You see, seduction is not about WHAT you do, it’s about WHO you are when you do it.”
― Lebo Grand

“A thousand charms are collected in the white of gaze and your black eyes

May that spoiled blink, take shelter in my heart

How beautiful is love when the blush of your lips trembles holding shy”
― J.S. Dirga, Saga Moon Poem

“The majority people seem to assume that sensuality means the amount of sex you have, or the amount of desire you have to have sex, or how seductive a woman is. But here’s the truth, sensuality is actually a reflection of the QUALITY of the ’inner’ life you already have. This quality can be infused in different areas including your sex life.”
― Lebo Grand

“Our leisure time is occupied increasingly by automatized activities in which we take no part: listening to piped-in words and viewing television screens (no portable smartphones, laptops back when Dr. Meerloo wrote his book). We hurry along with cars and go to bed with a sleeping pill. This pattern of living in turn may open the way for renewed sneak attacks on our mind. Our boredom may welcome any seductive suggestion.”
― Joost A.M. Meerloo, The Rape of the Mind: The Psychology of Thought Control, Menticide, and Brainwashing

“His knees wedged between her thighs, spreading them, so he could rest his cock at her entrance.

"That's a start, but it isn't enough. I want the whole package, Addison, your body is a beautiful safe, hiding your heart, but I won't be happy until I know the combination to reach it.”
― H.S. Howe, Jingle My Snowballs

“I don't mind inappropriate thoughts every now and then. So please, share yours with me." He met her eyes and she blushed, then grinned and stole his breath. If her thoughts were anything like his, he was more than happy to hear them.

"It was nothing. I was just wondering if you get many complaints in the bedroom even though I'm sure you don't." Though her eyes held amusement, she broke eye contact and looked away.

"How would you know what women think after they leave my bed?" He wondered with his own quiet smile.
It was true, he never met a woman, he couldn't please and he knew she would be no different.”
― H.S. Howe, Jingle My Snowballs

“Like drops of water that fall on the rocks of the jungle, the silence is full of tenderness.
Whisper softly my poetry unraveling your admiration.

In the name of night.

Everything I see is simplicity in your beautiful body

Like an incandescent light that dispels the darkness
Then it bounced on the rose petals in the dim moonlight.
Blushing reconciles the anxiety of the soul
Comforting a sore heart

Your beauty is a flower that unites to dazzle the majesty of the universe.

Ahhh love...

Your beauty is like a waterfall from the height of a cliff that is so sensual, showing the magic of a perfect panorama.

How seductive and alluring is your soft skin.....
As gentle as the twilight wind blew the dandelions scattered under the night sky.

As soft as a lump of cotton that lay white on the heart rug.
As gentle as the caress of the night breeze, flaking your shiny black hair.

Ahhh.

Let my breath rest for a moment
Here,

Between two seas of wine flowing red I find on your lips.

How beautiful is love
When the stalks of a kiss fall lying down

Tickling spoiled and whispering intimately about the love that is heaven behind your ear with a warm whisper blowing slowly

And

Slowly... caressing your face in a long soft moan

Lull a thousand touches and then cast your body into a pleasure that you have not found.

In the name of my chest.

Let our restless tantrums grapple in the flames of burning love.
Until our passion quells the passion,
Wet and subside.
️”
― J.S. Dirga, Saga Moon Poem

“It is a woman‘s duty to set the role a man should play in the relationship; she should NOT do it overtly though but seductively.

Women who know how to ‘Lead with DESIRE’ have the ability to craft the energy that a man should operate in. They can make him LOVE playing the bills because it makes him feel alive.”
― Lebo Grand

“It is a woman‘s duty to set the role a man should play in the relationship; she should NOT do it overtly though but seductively.

Women who know how to ‘Lead with DESIRE’ have the ability to craft the energy that a man should operate in. They can make him LOVE playing the bills because it makes him feel alive rather than because it’s his ‘responsibility’.”
― Lebo Grand

“This much is certain: had I a daughter of an age where there could be any question of her being influenced by you, I would most assuredly warn her, the more so if she were also intellectually gifted. And if there were no reason to warn her against you, then I myself, who nevertheless imagine I might be your match, if not in suppleness then at least in firmness and constancy, if not in the variable and brilliant then at least in steadiness – then I myself, with a certain reluctance, sometimes actually feel that you are corrupting me, that I am letting myself be carried away by your exuberance, by the apparently good-natured wit with which you mock everything, that I am letting myself be borne away into this aesthetic-intellectual intoxication in which you live. In a way, then, I feel to some degree uncertain towards you, at times being too severe, at others too indulgent. However, that is not so strange, for you are the epitome of all possibility; so that one may see in you the possibility at one moment of your own ruin, at another of your own salvation. Every mood, every thought, good or evil, cheerful or sad, you pursue to its farthest limit, yet more in abstraction than concretely, so the pursuit is itself more like a mood from which nothing results except the knowledge of it, though not enough to make it more difficult or easy next time to abandon yourself to that same mood; for you keep it as a constant possibility. So it is almost as though you could be reproached for everything and nothing at all, because it is and yet is not attributable to you. You admit or don’t admit, according to circumstances, to having had such a mood. But you are not available for any charge. The important thing for you is that you have had the mood completely, with proper pathos.”
― Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life

“When Evie awakened alone in the large bed, the first thing she beheld was a scattering of pale pink splashes over the snowy white linens, as if someone had spilled blush-colored wine in bed. Blinking sleepily, she propped herself up on one elbow and touched one of the pink dabs with a single fingertip. It was a creamy pink rose petal, pulled free of a blossom and gently dropped to the sheet. Gazing around her, she discovered that rose petals had been sprinkled over her in a light rain. A smile curved her lips, and she lay back into the fragrant bed.
The night of heady sensuality seemed to have been part of some prolonged erotic dream. She could hardly believe the things she had allowed Sebastian to do, the intimacies that she had never imagined were possible. And in the drowsy aftermath of their passion, he had cradled her against his chest and they had talked for what seemed to be hours. She had even told him the story of the night when she and Annabelle and the Bowman sisters had become friends, sitting in a row of chairs at a ball. "We made up a list of potential suitors and wrote it on our empty dance cards," Evie had told him. "Lord Westcliff was at the top of the list, of course. But you were at the bottom, because you were obviously not the marrying kind."
Sebastian had laughed huskily, tangling his bare legs intimately with hers. "I was waiting for you to ask me."
"You never spared me a glance," Evie had replied wryly. "You weren't the sort of man to dance with wallflowers."
Sebastian had smoothed her hair, and was silent for a moment. "No, I wasn't," he had admitted. "I was a fool not to have noticed you. If I had bothered to spend just five minutes in your company, you'd never have escaped me." He had proceeded to seduce her as if she were still a virginal wallflower, coaxing her to let him make love to her by slow degrees, until he was finally sheathed in her trembling body.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

“... he will see a kind of bloom and fresh beauty in an old woman or an old man; and he will be able to look with sober eyes on the seductive charm of his own slave boys”
― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

“It was true, he never met a woman, he couldn't please and he knew she would be no different.”
― H.S. Howe, Jingle My Snowballs

“When a man bites his lower lip and squints,
a woman's mind will go to the wrong place”
― J.S. Dirga, Saga Moon Poem

“Women who know how to ‘Lead with DESIRE’ have the ability to craft the energy that a man should operate in.”
― Lebo Grand

“Now, my little present, be quiet and let me unwrap you."
She stared at him, his jest reminding her of how he had saved her life that day on the cliffs. "We're really going to do this?" she ventured softly. "You're serious, you want me for your mistress? You could have anyone."
His gaze strayed to her lips. "Kate, my sweet enchantress, I've dreamed of you from the moment you walked through my door." He leaned down and kissed her with a tenderness that amazed her as he gathered her into his arms. "Don't be nervous," he whispered, ending the kiss. "Trust me."
She nodded, lifting her face to offer her lips again.
He claimed her mouth, his expert kiss dizzying her senses. Her heart hammered as she lifted her arms around his neck; crossing her wrists behind his head, she stood in his embrace. As she leaned against him, the feel of his body pressed to hers ignited long-suppressed fires in her blood.
It would not do to think about this too much. But as he caressed her gently, skillfully, kissing her again and again, her ability to reason began dissolving, anyway, into sheer pleasure. The problems that had loomed so insolubly a short while ago now seemed to belong to someone else.
Sensuality stole over her, awakening her senses. He was everything. She loved the taste of his mouth, his soft lips stroking hers, his hard body under her hands. The scent of winter clung to his long, sable hair, and the soothing way he touched her made her toes curl, his large, warm hand cupping the back of her neck beneath the cascade of her hair.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Do what you want.'
...
'That doesn't sound very exciting, do what you want.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Harper looked up, and aquamarine eyes held her gaze in the mirror. He stepped closer, pressing his body to her back; his measured calm was nowhere to be found. Those eyes were full of fire, staring directly into her soul.”
― E.V. Drake, The Scribemaster Chronicles

“He drew near her, put gentle hands on her body, turned her to face the wall. She twisted her fingers in the gate to keep herself from falling down. As he came up behind her, swept the hair from her neck, touched his lips to her shoulder, she took in a cacophony of smells. Vanilla. Something green, like distant fields. Musk. Sandalwood.
The last thing she would remember as she coasted down into a druggy trance was the prick of his teeth as they pressed into her throat.”
― Helen Maryles Shankman, The Color of Light

“His wing brushed her bare shoulder and she turned her head to find him with his head propped on a fist.

'Don't do that.'

'What?' His eyes sparkled in the dimness.

She turned onto her own side and waved a hand toward him. 'Look so... like that.'

His lips curled upward. 'Sexy? Attractive? Seductive?'

'All of the above.”
― Sarah J. Maas, House of Sky and Breath