Praise Sara Cate Quotes

You made me very proud today. And you are more than enough. You are perfect.

I think we’re all tired of being shamed and shoved into these quiet, perfect little innocent versions of ourselves while men can be as deviant as they want.

When love becomes toxic, it’s not love anymore.

Because you are mine, Charlotte. And I don’t appreciate when anyone talks badly about something that is mine. Do you think I have bad taste?

You said what people think in their heads is a them problem. Don’t make it yours.

Dear God, please let this be the only man I fuck for the rest of my life because there’s not a chance in Hell anyone else could ever top that.

I’m addicted to you,” he groans while fucking me. “You were made for me, Charlotte. You’re mine, and I never want to let you go. Do you understand me? I’d fuck you forever if I could.

You are such a good girl,” he says, and I nearly melt into the floor.

She's too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.

But this change in me isn’t scary, not to me. It’s exciting. Because I feel like I’m on the brink of something huge, and I can’t wait to see what it is.

RULE #6: AVOID MALLS FOR THE RISK OF RUNNING INTO YOUR EX WHILE HOLDING BAGS OF LINGERIE YOU FANTASIZE WEARING FOR HIS DAD.

I’m yours and you’re mine.

Charlotte, listen to me. You are a smart, beautiful, confident woman. You don’t need me to tell you what you want. I want to hear it from you. You deserve pleasure just as much as I do, and trust me, I want nothing more than to hear you utter the dirtiest words, and then I want to do whatever it is you say. So say it.

RULE #18: WEAR A REMOTE-CONTROLLED VIBRATOR AT YOUR OWN RISK.

For all the good girls.

RULE #3: ALWAYS DO AS YOU’RE TOLD—ESPECIALLY WHEN IT INVOLVES GETTING ON YOUR KNEES FOR A HOT MILLIONAIRE DADDY.

Gotta love anxiety, when one paranoid thought spirals into a hundred. Like

She’s too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.

I’d rather be someone people deem as depraved or sinful than being narrow-minded and hateful.

DON’T APOLOGIZE FOR SHIT YOU’RE NOT SORRY FOR.

There must be some unwritten rule that people who know of and partake in the kinky stuff can be kinky and flirtatious around each other. But to the rest of us, they have to modify their behavior. Like we’re the muggles and they’re the wizards.

I’ll fill out that form for you if you want, but I don’t need to. You want me to tell you that I want to taste you, Charlotte? Because I do. I want to touch you, tease you, fuck you, bend you over my knee and turn that pretty little backside red. There’s not a thing on that list I don’t want to do with you, so you can put the paper and pen away, little girl. Every single thing would get a five from me.

Was I a good girl?” she whispers with her mouth inches from mine. A smile creeps across my face as I gather her into my arms. “You’re always a good girl.

What…are you doing?” he asks. I expected this question, so I’m prepared. “Being a good girl,” I reply, “Sir.

You have no idea how hard this is for me, Charlotte. To have you as mine, but not in the way I want.

Oh well, I don’t need to breathe. I just need him.

What is there to be ashamed of? Everyone does it. Everyone enjoys it. What a waste of a good life to pretend you don't.

That’s it, Charlotte. Good girl.” His words spur me on, sending bolts of lightning through my body. My own fingers rub my clit in fast circles, and it feels so good; it’s a relief. Emerson’s hand rests over mine, but he isn’t touching me. Instead, he grips my hip with one hand and grinds his erection against my backside.

You have a bite mark on your ass cheek, Charlotte.

A better man might apologize first, but I can’t bring myself to apologize for loving Charlotte. I’m not sorry about it.

Not just any love, Emerson. It means you’ll have true, all-consuming, intoxicating, life-changing, earth-shattering love. Love you would die for. That you couldn’t possibly live without. Love that makes it hard to breathe. Like you can feel it not just in your heart but in your veins and your bones and your muscles. Everywhere.

You’re such a good girl, Charlotte.” My shoulders relax, seeming to melt down at my sides as I gaze up at him, those beautiful words washing over me like warm water. Suddenly, I’m all gooey and compliant, like that one little phrase put me in a trance. He could literally do anything to me in this state. And I sort of want him to.

You’re such a good girl, Charlotte.” My shoulders relax, seeming to melt down at my sides as I gaze up at him, those beautiful words washing over me like warm water. Suddenly, I’m all gooey and compliant, like that one little phrase put me in a trance. He could literally do anything to me in this state.

I want you, I need you, I love you. And that’s all that matters to me.

That nagging anxiety in my gut from before has turned into a gaping, bleeding wound, but it’s better this way. Get the feelings out. No secrets. And we’ll move past them.

I wanted to make it clear that you are mine.

RULE #3: ALWAYS DO AS YOU’RE TOLD—ESPECIALLY WHEN IT INVOLVES GETTING ON YOUR KNEES FOR A HOT MILLIONAIRE

I knew in that moment that this one was different. That in just five seconds flat, I knew she was somehow made for me.

I no longer see a man out of my reach. I see a man who makes me feel worthy in a way I didn't know I needed - didn't know I deserved.

Such a good girl,” he murmurs, and I breathe it in. Those words are a serotonin boost for my soul. They tell me I’m safe, adored, valued, and have nothing at all in the world to worry about.

Reaching out, he touches my chin. “You did so good,” he replies in a gravelly tone I can feel from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “You like me telling you that, don’t you?” “Mm-hm.” His thumb strokes my chin. “That’s what I thought.

That was the intent. Do you think men ever feel bad for the stuff they like? Do they get called sluts or depraved or nasty? No. I think we’re all tired of being shamed and shoved into these quiet, perfect little innocent versions of ourselves while men can be as deviant as they want.

Are you sure there’s not someone…” “Mom! I literally go to work and come home. Where would I even meet a guy?” She’s laughing with a sly smile as she tries to hide her face from me. “I’m just sayin’. You have the look of a girl who’s been—” “I am begging you not to finish that sentence.” “I’m an ER nurse, Charlie. You think a little sex talk makes me squeamish?

wanted the broken parts of him because I thought if I could love him through the storm, I would be rewarded with a love that was more intense and intoxicating. I was wrong. Instead of appreciating me for staying with him at his worst, he blamed me for little things when his life seemed to be going right. I wasn’t the glue that held him together; I was the glue that held him in his pain and reminded him of his past.

Ah-ah. Crawl there for me.

Perfect,” he whispers almost silently. And I swim in his praise.

It’s just that…I don’t think you changed your identity. From my perspective, it was like you got all of that confidence back. Did he really make you change or did he let you be yourself?

Straight to hell, Charlie. Straight to hell.

she changed me, and I grow more and more frustrated. This is all her fault. She made me dependent on her. Her approval. Her praise. I became addicted to how she made me feel, and now I’m like a recovering addict, stuck in withdrawal.

RULE #14: WHEN IN DOUBT, DANCE.

I’m tempting him on purpose, and sure, maybe I am being a little bit of a brat.

There’s a hint of disappointment on the contractor’s face as he lets my hand go. There must be some unwritten rule that people who know of and partake in the kinky stuff can be kinky and flirtatious around each other. But to the rest of us, they have to modify their behavior. Like we’re the muggles and they’re the wizards. And right now, I hate being a muggle.

I mean…I never considered myself sexy before, but as I stare at my full curves and the fleshy softness of my belly, I love the way I look in this. I see something sexy I never saw before.

WHEN HE TELLS YOU YOU’RE WORTH IT, BELIEVE IT.

RULE #1: NEVER PUT UP WITH A DOUCHEBAG BOYFRIEND—DUMP THAT LOSER.

To know that I may not be a twig or have perfect skin, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be sexy.

Well, I try. Can’t exactly focus on anything with a written confirmation basically proclaiming I’ll be your fuck toy. Bonus: with anal!

He turns toward me, and I do my best not to stare at all of his nakedness. I mean…I just had the damn thing in my mouth. Why would I blush about it now?

Touch either of them again, and I’ll fucking bury you.

You said what people think in their heads is a them problem. Don’t make it yours.” “Damn. I said that?

Dad left because he couldn’t accept me as I am. He would have rather seen me unhappy than accept the change I knew I needed. But you found a guy who wants you exactly as you are.

Sophie and I are scarfing down carne asada and queso. I mean it doesn't exactly solve all of my love life woes, but it sure does help. You can't be unhappy in a Mexican resturant.

you looked exquisite on your knees.

Warmth floods my lower belly as I think about him in that way, to be his woman. To feel his hands on my body, his lips on my skin. To walk into a building on his arm and know that no matter who is in that building, I am the most important one to him.

What a waste of a good life to pretend you don’t.

But I stuck with him. I wanted the broken parts of him because I thought if I could love him through the storm, I would be rewarded with a love that was more intense and intoxicating. I was wrong. Instead of appreciating me for staying with him at his worst, he blamed me for little things when his life seemed to be going right.

You made me very proud today. And you are more than enough.

He just had a way of making me feel worthless and desperate for any positive attention from him, so much so that I spent more time trying to please him than actually being happy

I don’t understand how people can be so bad at love. How could he hurt his own kids because of his own selfish ignorance? How can you claim to love someone and hurt them so badly?” “That’s not love.

RULE #24: WORK IS SO MUCH MORE ENJOYABLE WHEN YOU’RE FUCKING YOUR HOT BOSS.

Beau doesn’t have anger problems, per se. He’s just an asshole.

Turns out leading a group of eight-year-olds on roller skates in the cupid shuffle isn’t enough to cheer me up.

So I had a fistful of her hair in my hand, and we were both in the moment when I looked her right in the eye and said, ‘Suck my cock like a good little girl.’ The next thing I knew, she reared back her fist and clocked me right in the face.

how I went from a fight with Beau on his front lawn a couple days ago to this—his father telling me that I look good on my knees.

His voice is still in my head, though, constantly reminding me what a fuckup I am.

Everyone has a desire they think is kinky, Ms. Underwood. Thinking what we like is abnormal is the one thing we all seem to have in common.

I stuck with him. I wanted the broken parts of him because I thought if I could love him through the storm, I would be rewarded with a love that was more intense and intoxicating. I was wrong. Instead of appreciating me for staying with him at his worst, he blamed me for little things when his life seemed to be going right.

RULE #19: NOT ALL PUNISHMENTS ARE BAD.

The first window is open to a room that’s too dark to see anything. It’s a dim blue light, and there’s movement on the other side—the quick, pounding motion of someone being…well, pounded. My throat constricts as I look away, then back again. And my belly warms.

Being a good girl,” I reply, “sir.

I will obey every single command without hesitation.

Sir,” I breathe, pressing against his lips. “Can I please suck your cock?

You’re such a good girl, Charlotte.

We’re opening a fucking sex club.

And I bet a man his age has more skills in bed than a guy who’s only been doing it for a couple years.

I’m an HR nightmare waiting to happen.

I can’t afford a dress.” “I’ll buy your dress.

I zone out while shoveling ice cream into my mouth, thinking about the way he touched my cheek, how strangely gratifying it felt when he said that one word: lovely. He didn’t call me pretty or say you look nice. This was different. It was…approval.

He wasn’t any good for me. It’s better to be alone than to be with someone who’s bad for you.

Oh, then I guess I’ll have to show Mom your e-reader. Let’s see how smart she thinks Mating the Werewolf is.

Ms. Underwood, you looked exquisite on your knees.

Then, I grab her by the back of the neck, pulling her in for a bruising kiss, and whisper, “I want you on my face.

It means you’ll have true, all-consuming, intoxicating, life-changing, earth-shattering love. Love you would die for. That you couldn’t possibly live without. Love that makes it hard to breathe. Like you can feel it not just in your heart but in your veins and your bones and your muscles. Everywhere.

You want me to fuck you in the front seat of this car, in front of people passing by, so we both get sent to jail? Because if you touch it, that’s exactly where this is going.

There’s a subtle look of approval on his face, and I breathe it in, like it’s keeping me alive.

If this week has proven anything to me, it’s that I need to watch myself around this girl. She’s too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.

Just then, he reaches down and brushes my hair out of my face. With his eyes still longingly locked on mine, he strokes my hair again and again. I want to resist. I’d like to express how demeaning this is and how stupid I feel, but there’s something I didn’t anticipate with every ounce of his attention.

He gently rolls back his chair and turns toward me, exposing his leg to me, and I instinctually rest my cheek against his thigh. “Perfect,” he whispers almost silently. And I swim in his praise. He’s not taking anything I’m not willfully giving. This relationship is symbiotic and wholly powerful. Intoxicating almost.

I gaze up at him. They can’t see me on the camera, and unlike fifteen minutes ago, I suddenly love feeling like his dirty little secret. Because now it feels deliberate. His attention is deliberate. And that’s what I really want, more than I care to admit.

I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I like being submissive. I just want to be enough for you. I want to make you proud.

Grabbing a bottle of wine from the kitchen, I take up the living room couch to myself and flip the TV onto the trashiest show I can find. Then, I proceed to drink half the bottle and scroll through my phone, paying no attention to the show that’s playing.

In this house, with no one else around, there’s only us. Her and me and this unexplainable connection. You’re lucky enough to have something like this once in a lifetime, so if this brief, heated phase of our lives is all I’m going to get, then I’m going to squeeze every last drop out of it.

I hear the slightest praise from his lips and how easily I caved and salivated for it, giving up everything I believed in just to hear it again and again. As if my entire worth hung on those two beguiling words: good girl.

You can’t be unhappy in a Mexican restaurant.

TACOS AND MARGARITAS ARE ALWAYS THE ANSWER.

I don’t bother telling her she didn’t do anything worthy of apologizing. Instead, I warm her tiny, cold hands in my large, warm ones. She shivers again as I bring them to my mouth, blowing hot air against her skin.

RULE #12: FOOT RUBS ARE SEXUAL.

the way he touched my cheek, how strangely gratifying it felt when he said that one word: lovely. He didn’t call me pretty or say, ‘you look nice.’ This was different. It was…approval.

Dude, you’re fourteen! How are you so wise?” “I read smart books,” she replies with a laugh. “Oh, then I guess I’ll have to show Mom your e-reader. Let’s see how smart she thinks Mating the Werewolf is.

Exquisite. That word has lost all meaning to me now. Not a day will go by in my long life when I will hear those three syllables and not think of a man twenty years my senior, using that exact designation when referring to how well I kneeled for him.

now I only see him as mine. My…something, I don’t know. More than my boss, but not just my lover. My Sir.

With Emerson, I don’t feel so inferior. Somehow, this perfect, amazing man makes me feel worthy, and my heart explodes in my chest every time I think about it.

and the disappointment in her expression

you’re better off asking for forgiveness instead of permission.

this week has proven anything to me, it’s that I need to watch myself around this girl. She’s too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.

She is so blunt and open with her questions, but so guarded with her emotions.

sorcery. I swear, with those eyes and that smile, I would commit arson for him and probably wouldn’t remember a thing.

what people think in their heads is a them problem. Don’t make it yours.

And suddenly, there is no hesitation. The words just travel effortlessly across the table straight from his lips to my ears. “Ms. Underwood, you looked exquisite on your knees.

How delusional does a man have to be to live a life without his own kids?

I wanted the broken parts of him because I thought if I could love him through the storm, I would be rewarded with a love that was more intense and intoxicating. I was wrong. Instead of appreciating me for staying with him at his worst, he blamed me for little things when his life seemed to be going right. I wasn’t the glue that held him together; I was the glue that held him in his pain and reminded him of his past.

I think I am in the middle of a major change. Growing into something I’ve always wanted, but never felt confident enough to ask for.

I was finally alone with myself, and I realized how much I missed…me. Because I didn’t exist around him. He existed as the center of my universe,

I laugh again and ruffle her short, faded blue hair. It’s still growing out from the buzz-cut she gave herself last summer, so now it hangs just below her ears.

What could possibly be so bad about being someone’s pet, sub, or slave? In the playful sense, of course. As long as it’s consensual and everyone has something

Demure

RULE #33: THE TRUTH HURTS LIKE A BITCH.

After I broke up with Beau, I was finally alone with myself, and I realized how much I missed…me. Because I didn’t exist around him. He existed as the center of my universe, and I was his shadow.

twenty years older than me. He’s literally my dad’s age. Double ick.

His voice is like lava dripping down my spine.

while I’m looking away at something, Emerson’s eyes are focused on my face. There’s a warm, adoring expression in his features. A hint of a smile that reaches his green eyes.

This feeling of freedom to be sexual and feel good and not bad about that is so addicting.

tall enough that I can nuzzle myself against his neck, and I love how well our bodies fit together.

Do you think men ever feel bad for the stuff they like? Do they get called sluts or depraved or nasty? No. I think we’re all tired of being shamed and shoved into these quiet, perfect little innocent versions of ourselves while men can be as deviant as they want.

It’s okay, honey. It’s not like I couldn’t tell how old he was. I had my suspicions, but I trust you, Charlie. You’re a strong, smart girl, and I know you can take care of yourself.

I’ll be your fuck toy. Bonus: with anal!

He taps his hand softly on his thigh, signaling for me to sit on his lap.

I love fucking you, Charlotte. You take my cock so well.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.

I want to watch you fuck your fist until you come all over my chest.

I want to watch you,

Emerson stands up and wipes his mouth. “You are so beautiful when you come,” he groans, kissing my stomach and then my breasts.

I need to fuck you now,” he murmurs against my neck.

You want me to tell you that I want to taste you, Charlotte? Because I do. I want to touch you, tease you, fuck you, bend you over my knee and turn that pretty little backside red.

Such a good girl,” he murmurs,

My girl wants this, doesn’t she?” he growls as he does it again. “Yes!” I cry, pulling him in for another kiss. “Then get on your knees and take it out.” No one has ever scrambled to their knees faster than I do in this moment.

God, you’re soaked,” he whispers. His fingers dig under the waistband of my panties, and he tears them off with violent eagerness.

Look what you do to me, Charlotte,” he growls, sounding like a man come undone. “Sitting over there in these slutty panties. You do it on purpose, don’t you?

You want me to fuck you over my desk like a little slut?

You are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he growls.

This is what you get for tempting me. Tell me you’re sorry, Charlotte.” His thrusts grow even more rough and wild,

I hate him because, at the end of the day, I can’t keep him.

Then show me how good you can be.” With a gentle nudge, he guides his cock to my lips, and I gaze up at him as I run my tongue around the head.

That’s my girl,” he groans,

I’m gonna come, baby.

Are you gonna swallow me down, Charlotte? You gonna take my cum like the dirty girl you are? My dirty girl.

I want you on my face.

Hoisting her up by the hips, I position her over my face and pull her down until I have her pussy in my mouth.

I want to come inside you. I want you to take it,” I groan.

Watching her, I realize…I love her.

You taste so fucking good.

He stopped coming to work and got fired. But I stuck with him. I wanted the broken parts of him because I thought if I could love him through the storm, I would be rewarded with a love that was more intense and intoxicating. I was wrong. Instead of appreciating me for staying with him at his worst, he blamed me for little things when his life seemed to be going right. I wasn’t the glue that held him together; I was the glue that held him in his pain and reminded him of his past.

Yes, I do. Because I love the way I feel when I’m with you. I see the way you want me, how much you adore me. How many people really get to feel that with someone? Why would I ever deny myself something like that?

The things I wanted to do to her. God, I wanted to remove her clothes, touch her face, sit her on my lap, and stroke her perfect body while I worked.

Does she even know what she’s doing to me? Does she really understand how much I want her

I’m finding myself more and more addicted to this girl with each passing day.

Such a good girl,” he murmurs, and I breathe it in. Those words are a serotonin boost for my soul.

RULE #22: IF YOU WANT IT, TAKE IT.

RULE #13: ACCEPT CHANGE. CHANGE IS GOOD.

RULE #38: SOMETIMES, THERE ARE NO WORDS NEEDED.

RULE #37: DON’T APOLOGIZE FOR SHIT YOU’RE NOT SORRY FOR.

I read smart books,” she replies with a laugh. “Oh, then I guess I’ll have to show Mom your e-reader. Let’s see how smart she thinks Mating the Werewolf is.” “What?” my mom asks, tearing her tipsy attention away from the ice left in her margarita glass. “You brat!” Sophie screams, tossing her napkin at me. Her cheeks are tinged pink from embarrassment, and I can’t keep my laughter in.

Hi, I’m Charlie,

don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.

Do you want me to stop, Charlotte? If you’re scared, we can walk right out the door.” “No…” I whisper. “Do you trust me?” “Yes.” “Then lie down.

If you want me to stop, just say mercy. Understand?

I’m being reckless, but my filter can only hold back so much.

I just want him to know that two can play at his game. If he thinks it’s fun to toy with my emotions, then I can toy with his too.

I really should have learned my lesson by now when it comes to hoping. It always ends in disappointment.

RULE #36: DON’T LET THEM SHAME YOU.

Why have I let my own mind be groomed into believing this inferiority?

RULE #9: DRESSING LIKE A HOOKER COMES IN HANDY.

Not today, Satan,” I reply,

It excited me to be so admired in the shop, to use my body in a way that worked for me. To be comfortable in my own skin and flaunt that. To know that I may not be a twig or have perfect skin, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be sexy.

RULE #10: WHEN YOUR FRIENDS GET NOSEY, TELL THEM NOTHING.

When love becomes toxic, it's not love anymore.

I'd rather be someone people deem as depraved or sinful than being narrow-minded and hateful.

My gold and blue dress is pressed against his sapphire suit. We’re on the dance floor, and while I’m looking away at something, Emerson’s eyes are focused on my face.

Emerson is hard, and he’s rubbing his erection against me. “You feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me.

Touch yourself, Charlotte.

That’s it, Charlotte. Good girl.

You are so fucking beautiful. Make yourself come, baby.

He moans darkly against my ear. Then, he pulls his wet finger out and lifts it to his mouth. I turn to look up at him just as he slips it past his lips, licking my arousal off of his finger.

Suck my cock like a good little girl.

I find myself wanting to run my fingers through his short beard and scratch my nails through his salt-and-pepper hair.

My inner Dom wants to punish her for lying. I’d like to shake her, squeeze her until it hurts, perhaps even put her over my knee⁠—

Open your eyes, Charlotte,” he commands, and I do. As our eyes meet, he growls, “God, I love fucking you.

Because I’m not,” I sob. “I just mess everything up. I don’t deserve you. You think I’m so great now, but you’ll realize eventually that I’m not good enough, and you’ll leave me. Like everyone does.

I was never mad at you, Charlotte. I just wish you could see what I see.

I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I like being submissive. I just want to be enough for you. I want to make you proud. Even if we can’t… :(