Cherise Sinclair Quotes

Bookstore withdrawal - who would suspect such a thing existed?

It's a corollary to Murphy's law. If you're not prepared, bad things will happen. If you are, nothing goes wrong.

Bound, whether by my will or my rope, open to me in all ways.

That's very nice. You may continue doing that.

You trust me with your body." He helped her onto the table and positioned her on her back with firm, impersonal hands. "But not with your emotions. Or your past. Or your future.

A woman could simply pull her shirt down, show some extra cleavage, and mesmerize every guy in the room. If a man opened his jeans and let his cock poke out, every woman in the place would be calling for the cops.

When he sat up, she gave a sigh and relaxed against the lounge, the exquisite torture over.
His eyes crinkled. "You might not have noticed," he said as if having a conversation in a coffee shop or something, "but last time I looked, women possess two breasts.

This was like being Alice in a very twisted Wonderland ...

Amazing how different one woman could feel from another. Why the hell did they all want to be alike?

Dammit, why isn't there a book with the answers in it?

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

A good relationship is a two-way street, gatita. Submitting and serving is equaled by a master's need to take control, to protect, to make someone happy.

The fun we'll have tonight is called figging.

Rough Night, Kitten?

Cory is one period short of a write-off.

She was a strong woman whose deepest responses apparently came when she was most vulnerable.

Gabi to Marcus I can't believe out of one hundred thousand sperm, you were the fastest!

Kim flicked her fingers in annoyance. "The scum suckers didn't want to hear they're not gods in the bedroom or that you could possibly want anything other than what they did." She snickered. "Really, Linda, you should be ashamed, crushing their little egos.

He smiled. A sub shouldn't be terrified, but a little anxiety was good.

Groupies? Did BDSM have groupies?

I'll work with her." For now. Then he gave Z a steady look and drew his line in the sand. "You are the owner, sir, but they're my trainees. I would be most grateful if you could remember that." Don't do it again.
Gray eyes level, Z tilted his head in acknowledgement and slid the trainee's paperwork down the bar top.
With a grin, the bartender set a drink on the bar. "You know, Marcus, you say fuck you almost as politely as the boss."
-Master Z, Marcus and Cullen

MacKensie, much as men don't like to share this fact, we rarely die from not getting off.

Everything seemed almost too stark, the colors too sharp, the sounds too naked.

Talk about insanity. Being attracted to deVries was like a month saying, "Hey, let's go check out that awesome bonfire".

Look at me, sugar." She lifted her eyes, and he wiped away the tear that spilled over. "I could tell you what I do and don't do, but you wouldn't believe a word I said. So let's get this over with.

Logic is an excellent weapon when employed correctly.

In faded leathers and boots, he sure wasn't a clotheshorse like Antonio, and he was sure a lot bigger. The brown leather pants clung to long legs, and his vest opened over a thickly muscled chest. His neck was corded, his arms solid. A gold band circled one darkly tanned biceps. His face ... She frowned. All rough lines and craggy bones, he looked like a hard-edged Boromir from Lord of the Rings. His mouth was set in a firm line. And didn't that just figure she'd end up with Boromir? At least Aragorn had a sense of humor.

Unlike the in-your-face authority of other Doms, Master Jake's power was a lazy riptide, drawing a submissive under his command before she even realized she'd surrendered.

If you are with me long, I will begin to spell Master with two M's.

Last month she'd read that a man's connective tissue aligned horizontally with the skin, whereas a female's went perpendicular - which was why women got lumpy cellulite and men didn't. And doesn't that totally prove that God is male?

Responsibility and confidence and self-control are internal, so don't overlook the quiet guy in the corner. He might be shorter, and yet able to drop you to your knees with a low command.

As a submissive needed the security of a dominant's arms, the dominant needed to provide it.

If you keep all those thoughts inside, your brain will explode.

No, no, I don't want that."
"I didn't ask.

Funishment - not truly discipline.

Don't worry; this won't hurt ... too much. Zander deVries

Chocolate's better than sex any day.

Give me her damn address, you sadistic bastard.

Your life is your own. I just get to rule it now and then.

No matter what historians claimed, BC really stood for Before Coffee.

I'm a big man, sugar. When I come down on a woman, I want soft, not a bundle of sticks that I might break." - Logan

Slut. I'm a dirty-
The sound of a hand hitting flesh was simultaneous with the shocking sting on her bottom. "Ow!"
"You don't think those nasty thoughts about my sumisita, Kimberly.

Right on the edge of fear was where trust could grow.

For her, an orgasm felt more like a sneeze, certainly not the earthquake her friends described, and nowhere close to the shrieks of pleasure from the apartment next door. What would that feel like? To be so overwhelmed as to actually scream?

Master Vance - Lovers are allowed to explode if a little female puts her pretty ass in danger.

Gabi glared. If you want to add some variety to your sex life, why don't you just use your other hand?

I'll rip the fucking asshole's dick off and stuff it down his douche-bag throat. Take my whip and cornhole the bastard peckerheaded fuckwad till his ass whistles "The Star Spangled Banner." Then I'll break the dried-up piece of jackwad's leg off and shove it up his ass.

So, so sorry. Really sorry. Master. Sir. Emperor of the world. God of the universe.

People - especially men - don't always know what they want. You try, and if it doesn't work, then you may quit."
With a broken heart. As if she'd read her mind, Abuelita frowned and scolded, "Hearts mend, but lost chances are gone forever.

I can do anything if i want it enough.

You have a gorgeous ass, and it holds handprints beautifully.
Oh, well, how nice for me.

I'm not likely to forget someone slapping my butt with a big piece of wood.

Men - walking, talking proof that God is a sadist.

A master like Raoul looks for a woman whose need to serve and submit matches his need to protect and take command.

Master Nolan - When a Dom takes control, leaving no choices for the sub, he has to see to all her needs, not just sexual, but emotional and physical also. If your Dom doesn't do that, then you find a new Dom.

You're very lovely, gatita."
Her brows pulled together, and she gave him a skeptical stare.
"Do not look at your master as if he's an idiot.

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She could just imagine, all her friends and family mourning around her grave. The tombstone would read Kari Wagner, Died of Sheer Stupidity.
It would be almost as bad to have her grave marker read Died of Terminal Bedroom Boredom.

My cousin fell in love with a dom, so I checked into it to see if I needed to kill him before they got married.

Use your safe word if you get scared, honey."
"I'm fine." Her voice came out husky.
"Yes, you are, aren't you?

Nolan nodded gravely. "Men. Good to meet you." As Beth walked through the door, she heard Grant whisper in wonder, "He called us men.

Whatever demon invented stiletto-heeled boots should roast in hell ...

Feelings are feelings. They don't have dumb or smart labels,

Why had she set limits like no sex? I want sex.

He didn't require some eighteen-year-old to make his cock hard. He wanted a woman, one with lines in her face that said she'd done some living and had learned to cry. And to laugh.

The easiest way to keep a woman over your shoulder is with a hand on her ass, and the other between her legs.

I like my women soft and round. His blue gaze burned into hers. I don't lie, Becca. I love your body, every single curve, every dimple, every scar.

I'm sorry to tell you this, sprite, but you are definitely little.

You, lass, have a self-image problem.
Well, that might be a little true, but she also had a mirror.

When I want to." He ran his finger over her lips. "You don't get a vote, honey.

Mistress L for Lethal, that's me.

Although he assumed she'd naturally submit to him, he obviously believed she was still her own person. A strong person.

By the way, you have a fine ass. Sir.

And he calls it playing? Like, whatever happened to chess? Or cards? Or tag?

You wouldn't be here if you didn't care, Abby."
"I don't." She glared at him, so full of life she almost glowed.
"You do." He kissed the pouting lips lightly. "And I'm going to keep you.

Have you gone crazy?"
"Have you gone crazy, Master.

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Pull up your big-girl panties, Gabi.

Darlin', I wasn't just a Boy Scout, I was an Eagle Scout.

That was not only the final straw but the entire pile of hay.

That's a dumb-ass idea." She was too angry to curb her mouth. "You're a dumb-ass." She tried to kick and got nowhere. "Even Jesus thinks you're a dumb-ass.

But as she walked up to him, the warmth in his gaze made her feel ... beautiful.

Master Nolan - Being angry at a sub because a scene goes bad or you don't get the response you want isn't the mark of a good Dom. And insulting a woman for any reason is the mark of an asshole.

Marcus stepped behind the bar, saying, "Dan sent me over to assist you and learn how to tend the bar."
Doms could be pain-in-the-ass mother hens.

Coffee and chocolate - the inventor of mocha should be sainted.

Dios, she'd never come so hard in her life. How many people died this way? How would he ever explain to the ambulance crews that he'd chained his girlfriend out on the deck and killed her with too many orgasms?

She took a second look at him, at his fancy tailored suit. Dark gray with pinstripes. Oh please, like she'd really believe he was a dom at all? "Gabrielle Anderson. Are you sure you're Master Marcus?"
"Why would you think I'm not Master Marcus?" he asked. Well, good grief. She waved a hand at him and kept the duh from slipping out. Just in case he really was Master Marcus. Maybe he hadn't changed yet or something. "The suit? Where are your leathers or latex or ... biker jacket or vest? And black? Did you forget to wear black?"
He stared for a second, as if she'd turned into a drooling idiot, and then simply roared. Deep, full laughter - amazing coming from someone who looked like he should have a stick up his ass.

An older dom snorted. "Atherton uses the word escort loosely. The last time someone messed with a trainee, he threw the guy across the bar. Strolled over, waited for the idiot to stand up, punched his lights out, and dragged him by his jacket collar out of the place. Escorted him, my ass. Didn't even wrinkle that fancy suit." He took a sip of his beer and added, "Atherton is invariably polite, but nobody in their right mind fucks with his trainees.

Okay, you're older. Not much, really. And considering you love staying in shape and I refuse to run, we'll probably get all old and crippled at the same time. If not, then I'll learn to use a cane, and I'll get to beat on your ass for a change.

She couldn't take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation ... for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least.
So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her - as the damned flame got way too close - she started singing. "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me ... " Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn't have a sense of humor. "Happy birthday, dear Gabi" - she lifted her head and blew out the candle - "happy birthday to me.

Now, can I help you with something? I'm new, but I'll do my best to figure out how to get what you need."
...
"That's good to hear, Abby, since I need your breasts for a few minutes.

the only thing men are fast at is sex.

I do like seeing you in chains, darlin'.

He caught her staring and smiled-not a conceited I-work-out-and-have-a-great-body type smirk, but more of a I'm-a-boy; you're-a-girl; life is good.

Did you ever wonder what life would be like if you'd had enough oxygen at birth?

Master Sam - After that, I'm going to fuck you." She could hear the control in his voice. "Hurt you and fuck you so hard that everyone in the club hears you scream my name.

Am I your dom, little rabbit?"
"Yes." Her red-brown brows drew together. "What's wrong?"
"Not a thing." He gave her a faint smile, and his gravelly voice deepened. "I thought I'd tell you we're getting married next month."
~Nolan and Beth~

Is that your face or did your neck just throw up?

Patient isn't exactly a word in my vocabulary

Cages, spanking benches, sawhorses, bondage tables. Scene after scene. Throaty moans, high screams, whining, whimpering, and groaning. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. All his cop instincts shouted for him to get his cuffs out and start arresting people.

The sound of his rough voice was ... comforting, like there was safety wherever he was. Well, some safety ... he certainly had an awful lot of sneaky tricks up his sleeve.

Maybe I'll just stand here for the half hour and pretend to be a statue. "You were given an order, sub," he said softly.
Or not.