“I want to kiss you. I want to so badly I can barely think of anything else. When you enter a room it’s my only thought, and it torments me night and day.”
— Charlotte Stein
“All that matters is the way he’s angling my face up to his, thumb and forefinger still on my jaw and my chin. It makes me think of someone taking a drink, only the drink in question is my lips. He wants to taste me there, and oh, that’s exactly what it feels like. He doesn’t press his mouth to mine, too hard and too frantic. He just dips in, getting a little of me on his lips before going back for something deeper and sweeter. It’s so much sweeter I could cry. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for a thousand years, and, if his reaction is anything to go by, so has he.”
— Charlotte Stein
“He kisses me until my mouth is sore from his stubble, and most likely cherry red. Then, when he sees its ripe colour, he kisses me more to make up for it. He kisses me between courses and in the middle of them too, licking chocolate from my lips when I accidentally make a mess – so uncaring of whatever anyone in here might think.”
— Charlotte Stein
“Certainly seems it when she half-turns in his arms and he just leans right down into her and kisses and kisses. Oh, how syrupy-slow his kisses are. She could live in those warm, wet pulls.”
— Charlotte Stein
“He had lovely eyes, really—not assessing, at all, but big and dark and…waiting.”
— Charlotte Stein
“You’re being deliberately cruel, now.” “No – I think deliberately cruel would be if I told you something rude, like: I’d love to see you stroking your stiff dick until you came all over yourself.” I pause again, but this time it’s not to eat his expression. This time I’m employing a bit of dramatic license, I think. “Or until you came all over me – because you know, you could do that if you wanted to. I could undo my nightie, and then you could just … spurt all over my tits.” He makes the following sound: “Hoh.”
— Charlotte Stein
“Ohhhh are you coming?” he asks me. “Oh God Mallory, I can feel you doing it around my cock. I can feel you – that’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on me.”
— Charlotte Stein
“Did you just have an orgasm, after hearing me talk about giving you an orgasm?”All I can do is sob helplessly in answer. “I think you did. I think you just came ’cause I’m fingering your sweet pussy and talking dirty to you – you know why?”I don’t, I don’t. “Because you’re so nuts for this. Aren’t you, huh? You’re so primed. I can feel that hot little pussy clenching around me every time I move a muscle or say a word – ohhhh, yeah. Yeah, arch your back so I can look at you going nice and tight around my fingers. Yeah. Yeah. You gonna do that around my cock?”
— Charlotte Stein
“When she finally pulled away from him—much to Aley’s stuttering forward reluctance—he wanted only to echo Aley’s words: “Oh! Do it again.”
— Charlotte Stein
“I know,” he says, and it’s the strangest thing. I can tell he’s smiling, slow and syrupy, when he says it.”
— Charlotte Stein
“You know it feels good. I can hardly geta…I don’t even…”There was something amusing about watching him trying to form a coherent sen-tence. Amusing, but arousing at the sametime.”
— Charlotte Stein
“I would never forbid you. I can’t forbid you. It’s not in my power to, and it never should be.”
— Charlotte Stein
“You don’t really have idea about any of that olden-days stuff, do you?” He’s sure he can feel her smiling against his shoulder. “Busted,” she says. “Ah, it’s some nice talk, though, Sol. You make it all sound real nice.” “That’s the beauty of it. Just dreaming thoughts on once-was things. Animals and helping people and one place you could always call hom”
— Charlotte Stein
“Just that one word—sound—sent a strong answering pulse through her body. His tongue curled around syllables that weren’t there, like a promise. This is what you’ll get, if you just let me hear.”
— Charlotte Stein
“He suggested devils, skulls, harsh masculine drawings. This thing was…heart poundingly good. She wanted to pluck it, and bury her face in it, and keep it in a vase by her bedside.”
— Charlotte Stein
“And there was something both frustrating and maddeningly arousing about that. His restraint made something burn low and deep in her belly, and then his mouth, oh God his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, again, and every now and then he’d pull away, just a little — just enough to make her want to drag him back. Before giving her a teasing lick with that perfect, curling tongue of his. It set all the nerve endings in her upper lip on fire.”
— Charlotte Stein
“His voice sounded like molten metal. As if he had something thick at the back of his throat and it was making him sound deeper and richer than he actually was.”
— Charlotte Stein