Stroke Your Ego Quotes

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Sorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killing me. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.
Rachel Vincent (Alpha (Shifters, #6))
If you’re looking for lollipops and rainbows while you shop for the latest best seller, you best not come to me. I won’t chat you up and tell you how cute your kid is. I won’t smile and flirt. I won’t stroke your ego about the jewelry you are wearing or the shirt you have on. I will help you find what you need. I will recommend books and hell I even talk about what I liked about one book over another but all that other shit is just not my thing.
J.L. Mac (Wreck Me (Wrecked, #1))
Darling, can your mother offer you some advice?" "No." I answer quickly on a small smile. She returns my smile and sits me on the end of the bed. "When you become a wife, you become the core of your husband." She smiles fondly. "Let him think he's in charge, let him think you can't live without him, but never let him take your independence or identity, darling. They need their egos stroked, these men.
Jodi Ellen Malpas (This Man Confessed (This Man, #3))
Flushing, I huffed, "Oh, you know you're gorgeous, Robson. You don't need me to stroke your ego." "I beg to differ." He was suddenly no longer smiling as we drew to a stop in front of the store. "It's getting to the point only you can.
Samantha Young (Much Ado About You)
Narcissistic Supply You get discarded as supply for one of two reason: They find you too outspoken about their abuse. They prefer someone that will keep stroking their ego and remain their silent doormat. Or, they found new narcissistic supply. Either way, you can count on the fact that they planned your devaluation phase and smear campaign in advance, so they could get one more ego stroke with your reaction. Narcissists are angry, spiteful takers that don't have empathy, remorse or conscience. They are incapable of unconditional love. Love to them is giving only when it serves them. They gaslight their victims by minimizing the trauma they have caused by blaming others or stating you are too sensitive. They never feel responsible or will admit to what they did to you. They have disordered thinking that is concerned with their needs and ego. It is not uncommon for them to hack their targets, in order to gain information about them. They enjoy mind games and control. This is their dopamine high. The sooner you distance yourself the healthier you will become. Narcissism can't be cured or prayed away. It is a mental disorder that turns the victims of its abuse into mental patients because it causes so much psychological manipulation.
Shannon L. Alder
You know, men are very fickle. Give them what they want and they will do anything for you. Keep your hair long and glossy or invest in good weaves; cook for him and send the food to his home and his office. Stroke his ego in front of his friends and treat them well for his sake. Kneel down for his parents and call them on important days. Do these things and he will put a ring on your finger, fast fast.” My mother nods sagely.
Oyinkan Braithwaite (My Sister, the Serial Killer)
You know what, Peabody? Justice means a little more to me than a pretty gold star on my record or some fucking captain’s bars. And if you want to go run after lover boy and stroke his ego, no one’s stopping you.’ Peabody’s jaw twitched, but her voice was even. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Lieutenant.’ ‘Fine, just stand here and look martyred because I—’ In midtirade, Eve stopped, sucked in her breath. ‘I’m sorry. You’re a goddamn handy target at the moment, Peabody.’ ‘Is that part of my job description? Sir.’ ‘You always have a fine comeback. I could learn to hate you for that.
J.D. Robb (Immortal in Death (In Death, #3))
Next crisis, I'll be sure to invent a creative, lifesaving solution in two minutes while simultaneously stroking your ego so you won't feel overly threatened by a woman doing your job for you.
Gwendolyn Clare (Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass, #1))
I love you, Francesca,” Gabriel told her solemnly. “I cannot express in words what you are to me.” She smiled up at him. “You do a fairly good job expressing yourself.” His eyebrow shot up. “Fairly good?” “I think your ego is already far too large. I am not about to call you the greatest lover in the world.” His hand cupped her soft breast, his thumb stroking small caresses over her taut nipple. “But you would if it were not for fear of my ego?
Christine Feehan (Dark Legend (Dark, #7))
How do you fit your head in your helmet? I’m worried it must expand the more people stroke your ego,” I say with fake concern. “I have one custom made to avoid that issue.
Lauren Asher (Throttled (Dirty Air, #1))
When you’re looking for every opportunity to stroke your own ego, you will lose most of your relationships along the way.
Daryl Van Tongeren (Humble: Free Yourself from the Traps of a Narcissistic World)
You really want to know?” He drags out the suspense. “Yes.” I grow restless. “Spill.” “Well, for starters… most guys our age aren’t looking to date.” He elaborates. “They just want to fuck around. And those who do want to date are only looking for a girl to make them feel good about themselves.” “Meaning?” “Meaning they want her to laugh at their jokes, stroke their egos, give good head and… that’s pretty much it.” He draws a small smile out of me. “So, when guys like that see a girl like you, a girl who doesn’t look easy or desperate, they get intimidated. Label her high-maintenance and run like hell. You’re beauty and brains, Vee. You’re an immature high school boy’s worst nightmare.
Eliah Greenwood (Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High, #1))
The motivation to make a "Wow!" impression is not to better everyone else in town. It's not about stroking our egos, pleased with how excellent we are. "Wow!" impressions matter because people matter. What they think matters. What they believe matters. What they want matters. What they need matters. First
Mark L. Waltz (First Impressions: Creating Wow Experiences in Your Church)
As if your ego needs any more stroking. If it took form right now it’d be a giant hard on.
Amy Andrews (Playing by Her Rules (Sydney Smoke Rugby, #1))
Stroke his ego in front of his friends and treat them well for his sake. Kneel down for his parents and call them on important days. Do these things and he will put a ring on your finger, fast fast.
Oyinkan Braithwaite (My Sister, the Serial Killer)
Wanting his mind on other matters, she deliiberately challenged his statement. "You don't know so much about me. There was a man once. He was crazy about me." She tried to look wordly. "Absolutely crazy for me." His answering laughter was warm against her neck, her throat. His lips touched the skin over her pulse and skimmed lightly up to her ear. "Are you, by any chance, referring to that foppish boy with the orange hair and spiked collar? Dragon something?" Savannah gasped and pulled away to glare at im. "How could you possibly know about him? I dated him last year." Gregori nuzzled her neck, inhaling her fragrance, his hand sliding over her shoulder, moving gently over her satin skin to take possession of her breast. "He wore boots and rode a Harley." His breath came out in a rush as his palm cupped the soft weight, his thumb brushing her nipple into a hard peak. The feel of his large hand-so strong, so warm and possessive on her-sent heat curling through her body. Desire rose sharply. He was seducing her with tenderness. Savannah didn't want it to happen. Her body felt better, but the soreness was there to remind her where this could all lead. Her hand caught at his wrist. "How did you find out about Dragon?" she asked, desperate to distract him, to distract herself. How could he make her body burn for his when she was so afraid of him, of having sex with him? "Making love," he corrected, his voice husky, caressing, betraying the ease with which his mind moved like a shadow through hers."And to answer your question, I live in you, can touch you whenever I wish.I knew about all of them. Every damn one." He growled the worrds, and her breath caught in her throat. "He was the only one you thought of kissing." His mouth touched hers. Gently. Lightly. Returned for more. Coaxing, teasing, until she opened to him. He stole her breath, her reason, whirling her into a world of feeling.Bright colors and white-hot heat, the room falling away until there was only his broad shoulders,strong arms, hard body, and perfect,perfect mouth. When he lifted his head, Savannah nearly pulled him back to her.He watched her face,her eyes cloudy with desire, her lips so beautiful, bereft of his. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Savannah? There is such beauty in your soul,I can see it shining in your eyes." She touched his face, her palm molding his strong jaw. Why couldn't she resist his hungry eyes? "I think you're casting a spell over me. I can't remember what we were talking about." Gregori smiled. "Kissing." His teeth nibbled gently at her chin. "Specifically,your wanting to kiss that orange-bearded imbecile." "I wanted to kiss every one of them," she lied indignantly. "No,you did not.You were hoping that silly fop would wipe my taste from your mouth for all eternity." His hand stroked back the fall of hair around her face.He feathered kisses along the delicate line of her jaw. "It would not have worked,you know.As I recall,he seemed to have a problem getting close to you." Her eyes smoldered dangerously. "Did you have anything to do with his allergies?" She had wanted someone, anyone,to wipe Gregori's taste from her mouth,her soul. He raised his voice an octave. "Oh, Savannah, I just have to taste your lips," he mimicked. Then he went into a sneezing fit. "You haven't ridden until you've ridden on a Harley,baby." He sneezed, coughed, and gagged in perfect imitation. Savannah pushed his arm, forgetting for a moment her bruised fist. When it hurt, she yelped and glared accusingly at him. "It was you doing all that to him! That poor man-you damaged his ego for life. Each time he touched me, he had a sneezing fit." Gregori raised an eyebrow, completely unrepentant. "Technically,he did not lay a hand on you.He sneezed before he could get that close.
Christine Feehan (Dark Magic (Dark, #4))
Keep your hair long and glossy or invest in good weaves; cook for him and send the food to his home and his office. Stroke his ego in front of his friends and treat them well for his sake. Kneel down for his parents and call them on important
Oyinkan Braithwaite (My Sister, the Serial Killer)
I'm just sorry your dragon is so hell bent on mating with someone as fucked up looking as me," he murmured, keeping his voice light even though he wasn't joking at all. God, everything about her was perfect. It was no surprise she was so resistant to mating with him.... To his surprise, she snorted and smacked his stomach. "Bran Devlin, you're the sexiest male I've ever met. If you want me to stroke your ego you're out of luck." Then, to his utter fucking surprise, she slid her hand lower and grasped his already hardening cock before looking up at him. Her smile was an erotic mix of uncertainty and wickedness. "But I don't mind stroking this.
Katie Reus (Beyond the Darkness (Darkness, #3))
Although, as I watched him sleep, it occurred to me that he was way more attractive than I'd originally thought. He was my age-we were both freshmen-so I should've noticed, but his personality had somehow distracted me from the length of his eyelashes, the thickness of his dark hair, the prominence of his Adam's apple, and the way he had the tiniest little dimple in his chin. He was, objectively speaking, a very cute guy. "You checking me out, Glasses?" Gah! His eyes remained closed as he said, "Swear to God I can hear you holding your breath. Relax and exhale, kid; it's okay to creep on me." "As if," I growled, irritated that I'd gotten busted, because the last thing on earth I wanted to do was stroke his ego. "I just thought you might be dead." "Worried?" "Hopeful.
Lynn Painter (Better Than Before (Betting on You, #0.5; Better than the Movies, #0.5))
It was a memorable night for a burgeoning community of food enthusiasts at exactly the right moment. I was ecstatic. For the first time in my adult life, I was doing something purely for the joy of sharing my passion with the world, rather than to stroke my ego or make money. It felt like I was finally living my purpose. I was manifesting my dreams, making tangible an inspiration that came from deep within.
Alan Philips (The Age of Ideas: Unlock Your Creative Potential)
Candor isn’t cruel. It does not destroy. On the contrary, any successful feedback system is built on empathy, on the idea that we are all in this together, that we understand your pain because we’ve experienced it ourselves. The need to stroke one’s own ego, to get the credit we feel we deserve—we strive to check those impulses at the door. The Braintrust is fueled by the idea that every note we give is in the service of a common goal: supporting and helping each other as we try to make better movies.
Ed Catmull (Creativity, Inc.: Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration)
You've got good taste,honey." Daffy winked. "In food and in men." As Daffy walked away, Marilee chuckled. "You realize," she said as she lifted the frosty bottle to her lips and drank, "that Daffy was practically drooling when she looked at you." "She drools over every cowboy that walks through the door.Now if you'd drool"-he touched a finger to her jaw-"my ego would definitely be stroked." "I doubt your ego needs stroking. I'm thinking you have a very high opinion of yourself,rebel." He gave an easy laugh. "Does this mean you're not going to buy into my shy-guy routine?" "Not likely.
R.C. Ryan (Montana Destiny)
She was about to take a step back when his hand slid onto her leg. Slow and lazy. “You don’t wear your scrubs home,” he murmured, his fingers idly stroking just behind her knee, the denim of her jeans no barrier to the sensations sweeping up her leg. Joss willed herself to move but not one damn synapse obeyed. It was as if his fingers had injected them with a paralyzing agent. “No.” Her voice was hushed yet high. Breathy. “It’s against hospital policy.” “Pity.” He smiled at her. “You look hot in them.” If it was possible to orgasm through compliments alone, she’d just moved into the red zone. He was dangerously good for her ego. He was bleary-eyed, rubbing his right hand over his hair, his biceps and abs shifting nicely. A flush of heat surged from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Sweet baby cheeses. Maybe she was perimenopausal? Thirty-four was young but it wasn’t unheard of…
Amy Andrews (Troy (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour, #5))
On top of that—you’ve been trying to get my attention all week. So now you’ve got it. You just happened to get it my way.” Elle looked to the side, as though bored with the entire conversation, but I recognized embarrassment when I saw it. She tried to cover it, but it still came through loud and clear in the pink blush staining her cheeks. “And now that we’ve finished stroking your ego, I think we’re done here,” she said. Her words were quiet, and I didn’t like seeing her bold sassiness muted. I decided to throw myself out there too. Fuck, I hoped I knew what I was doing. “I didn’t say I didn’t like you trying to get my attention. Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been fighting to stay away from you? Jesus, woman, you’re the sexiest fucking thing to set foot in this place. My dick has become way too well-acquainted with my zipper—and a fuck ton more acquainted with my hand since you started.
Meghan March (Beneath These Chains (Beneath, #3))
Yup. Still got it.” Shane caps it off with a playful grin. I can’t tell if he’s referring to football or his looks. Yes to both, but he doesn’t need his ego stroked. “Eh.” I shrug, feigning indifference. His jaw drops. “What do you mean, ‘eh’? You saw me play in high school.” “A few times.” He snorts. “Yeah, right. You went to all the games. You’d sit up on the right side, near the announcer booth. It was like it was your spot. For years.” I frown. “You saw me there?” He never told me that. I assumed I didn’t exist to him before that summer we dated. “Of course, I did. You wore this long, red-and-black sweater that you’d hug around your body like you were cold, even when it was seventy degrees out. I always felt like I should run up there and give you a hug.” I did always wear that sweater. It was old and ratty, and I loved it. And my fifteen- and sixteen-year-old self would have died from happiness had Shane Beckett run into the stands to even acknowledge me. “You stopped coming senior year,” he murmurs, more to himself, his brow puckering.
K.A. Tucker (The Player Next Door (Polson Falls, #1))
When he lifted his head, Savannah nearly pulled him back to her. He watched her face, her eyes cloudy with desire, her lips so beautiful, bereft of his. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Savannah? There is such beauty in your soul, I can see it shining in your eyes.” She touched his face, her palm molding his strong jaw. Why couldn’t she resist his hungry eyes? “I think you’re casting a spell over me. I can’t remember what we were talking about.” Gregori smiled. “Kissing.” His teeth nibbled gently at her chin. “Specifically, your wanting to kiss that orange-bearded imbecile.” “I wanted to kiss every one of them,” she lied indignantly. “No, you did not. You were hoping that silly fop would wipe my taste from your mouth for all eternity.” His hand stroked back the fall of hair around her face. He feathered kisses along the delicate line of her jaw. “It would not have worked, you know. As I recall, he seemed to have a problem getting close to you.” Her eyes smoldered dangerously. “Did you have anything to do with his allergies?” She had wanted someone, anyone, to wipe Gregori’s taste from her mouth, her soul. He raised his voice an octave. “Oh, Savannah, I just have to taste your lips,” he mimicked. Then he went into a sneezing fit. “You haven’t ridden until you’ve ridden on a Harley, baby.” He sneezed, coughed, and gagged in perfect imitation. Savannah punched his arm, forgetting for a moment her bruised fist. When it hurt, she yelped and glared accusingly at him. “It was you doing all that to him! The poor man— you damaged his ego for life. Each time he touched me, he had a sneezing fit.” Gregori raised an eyebrow, completely unrepentant. “Technically, he did not lay a hand on you. He sneezed before he could get that close.” She laid her head back on the pillow, her ebony hair curling around his arm, then her arm, weaving them together. His lips found her throat, then moved lower and found the spot over her breast that burned with need, with invitation. Savannah caught his head firmly in her hands and lifted him determinedly away from her before her treacherous body succumbed completely to his magic. “And the dog episode?” He tried for innocence, but his laughter was echoing in her mind. “What do you mean?” “You know very well what I mean,” she insisted. “When Dragon walked me home.” “Ah, yes, I seem to recall now. The big bad wolf decked out in chains and spikes, afraid of a little dog.” “Little? A hundred-and-twenty-pound Rottweiler mix? Foaming at the mouth. Roaring. Charging him!” “He ran like a rabbit.” Gregori’s soft, caressing voice echoed his satisfaction. He had taken great pleasure in running that particular jackass off. How dare the man try to lay a hand on Savannah? “No wonder I couldn’t touch the dog’s mind and call him off. You rotten scoundrel.” “After Dragon left you, I chased him for two blocks, and he went up a tree. I kept him there for several hours, just to make a point. He looked like a rooster with his orange comb.” She laughed in spite of her desire not to. “He never came near me again.” “Of course not. It was unacceptable,” he said complacently, with complete satisfaction, the warmth of his breath heating her blood.
Christine Feehan (Dark Magic (Dark, #4))
OVER THE PAST week, I’ve taught you how to exploit your best assets. Showed you how to make your man crave you emotionally, just as much as he does physically. I’ve even taught you how to stroke his fragile ego. That was the first phase of our program, and if you feel that was teetering on the threshold of your sexual tolerance, I suggest you leave now. Now, it’s time to kick it up a notch.
S.L. Jennings (Taint (Sexual Education, #1))
Pride entices us to favor people who build up our egos. Everyone wants to feel accepted and loved. The best way to rid your life of pride is to surround yourself with people who care for you for the right reasons and not just to stroke your ego. Pride is
Charles F. Stanley (Landmines in the Path of the Believer: Avoiding the Hidden Dangers)
Why are you still single?” “Maybe I’m no one’s idea of Mr. Right.” “I’m not even going to stroke your ego by responding to that.
Anonymous
Forget all else, Junah, but remember this: You are never alone. You have your caddie. You have me. “More devoted than a mother, more faithful than a lover, I stand by your side always. I will never abandon you. No sin, no lapse, no crime however heinous can make me desert you, nor yield up to you any less than my ultimate fidelity and love. “Who walks his path beside me Feels my hand upon him always. No effort he makes is wasted, Nor unseen, unguided by me. “Therefore, Junah, rest in me. Enter the Field like a warrior. Purged of ego, firm in discipline, seeking no reward save the stroke itself. Give the shot to me. I am your Self, the Ground of your being, your Authentic Swing.
Steven Pressfield (The Legend of Bagger Vance: A Novel of Golf and the Game of Life)
The second thing I’ve learned is this: it doesn’t matter what a woman says in bed to stroke your ego, it’s never your pussy…only your turn.
Brian W. Smith (BACKFIRE - a short story (originally in the 4 Secrets Anthology))
Candor isn’t cruel. It does not destroy. On the contrary, any successful feedback system is built on empathy, on the idea that we are all in this together, that we understand your pain because we’ve experienced it ourselves. The need to stroke one’s own ego, to get the credit we feel we deserve—we strive to check those impulses at the door. The Braintrust is fueled by the idea that every note we give is in the service of a common goal: supporting and helping each other as we try to make better movies. It
Ed Catmull (Creativity, Inc.: Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration)
Did you ever think maybe you’d just stay, ride it out, see what happened? Was that an option for you?” He didn’t ask defensively, though it took a bit to keep the edge from his voice. He was all but grilling her so he couldn’t go and get upset if he didn’t like the answers he got. But he was human, and this wasn’t any easier on him than it was on her. “It might have been.” “If?” He heard her take a steadying breath and felt himself bracing for her response. “If I’d felt about you the way I felt about the rest of your family. Like you were a brother or something.” “But?” “Looking for a little ego stroke?” She swatted at him then, tried for a playful laugh, but the serious undertone remained. “But I had feelings for you. Well, lust and feelings. We had a friendship, then I had lust. And I really didn’t think, even if you were interested in me, that was something you’d pursue, given your position as employer and me being temporary. So…I don’t know…” “But when you came back here to Maine you didn’t head out again.” “I didn’t go back to Australia either,” she reminded him. When he didn’t say anything for some time, she said, “What are you thinking? I’ve been pretty frank so go ahead, be honest with me.” “Okay,” he said. “I guess I can’t help but think that you didn’t head back out on the road, you didn’t come back to Australia either--but you also didn’t write, keep in touch. And not because you were out in the jungle somewhere, unable to drop a postcard in the mail. You were right here, with all the modern technological conveniences at your fingertips. But you didn’t send a single e-mail. Not even to Sadie. And I can’t help but think that maybe that means we were all a lot more important to you than you wanted to admit or keeping in touch, at least with her, would have been no big deal. You also haven’t even mentioned us to anyone here, as far as I know, other than your uncle. Which, given how long you stayed and how much we’d come to mean to you, seems odd to me, too. So…maybe the only way you thought you could get over us was to put us firmly in your rearview mirror. Only then…you never started looking ahead again either.” She said nothing, and a quick glance showed she was staring out the side window of the car, her hands in her lap, fingers twisting and untwisting. “Or maybe we really were easily left in the past, and the change in you is more because you got home and your entire family was living here, all together, for the first time in your adult life,” he said, giving her an out. “And it makes you want to stay, even though you don’t know what, precisely, you want to do here yourself.” He paused, then said the rest of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. “And maybe you stay because it’s the closest thing you can have to what you had started building with us, and remain safe while having it.
Donna Kauffman (Starfish Moon (Brides of Blueberry Cove, #3))
The energies around the world are harsh everyday and that is just the sad reality now. Despite this, everything is slowly shifting in a more positive way thanks to the many evolved souls who have incarnated from the Realms and Spirit Worlds that exist. With those shifts comes the tantrum throwing by lower evolved human souls. This is what you are bearing witness to around the world. Before the harsh energies came at you once in awhile, but now it is out of control and happens on a daily basis. The internet, technology and phone apps that exist have positive uses, but most do not use it for positive purposes. Technological devices spit out toxic energy at your aura and latches onto your soul. If one is using the devices for selfish reasons, such as to spew negativity, or for ego stroking, then you and the person they direct the energy to will be a magnet for some of these harsh energies.
Kevin Hunter (Warrior of Light: Messages from my Guides and Angels)
And you,’ he spat, ‘playing nice with us all these years, sucking up. You know that nobody actually likes you, don’t you? You know we laugh at all the air-kissing and the ego-stroking? You know that you’re not one of us, don’t you? That we all think you’re just a fucking waitress in fancy dress?
Ellery Lloyd (The Club)
As if your ego needs any more stroking, Theo.” She rolled her eyes.
S.J. Sylvis (Weak Side (Bexley U))
Lords and dandies who only want to ruin women, ruin our reputations and our virtue. Flattery, I discovered, was the best way to put those men off, and I can’t imagine it wouldn’t work on you as well, Lord Stride. You now have the power to ruin me for London society. Is that enough? How long am I expected to stroke your ego before I’ve sufficiently mollified your colossal vanity, my lord?
C.M. Nascosta (How to Marry a Marble Marquis (The Monsters Ball))
If I had to pick one output (action) word for my right mind, I would have to choose compassion. I encourage you to ask yourself, what does it mean to you to be compassionate? Under what circumstances are you inclined to be compassionate and what does compassion feel like inside your body? Generally, most of us are compassionate with those we see as our equals. The less attached we are to our ego’s inclination for superiority, the more generous of spirit we can be with others. When we are being compassionate, we consider another’s circumstance with love rather than judgment. We see a homeless person or a psychotic person and approach them with an open heart, rather than fear, disgust, or aggression. Think about the last time you reached out to someone or something with genuine compassion. How did it feel inside your body? To be compassionate is to move into the right here, right now with an open heart consciousness and a willingness to be supportive.
Jill Bolte Taylor (My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey)
From the short time I've known you, I'm positive you don't need anyone stroking your ego and making it bigger." "You're right. I got something better than my ego that grows when you stroke it." I winked.
Penelope Ward (Not Pretending Anymore)
YOUR STAMINA IS PITIFUL. YOUR JUDGMENT IS LITTLE BETTER THAN THAT OF A WORM. Gee, thanks. I’ve never felt so confident. MY PURPOSE ISN’T TO STROKE YOUR EGO. MY PURPOSE IS TO PREPARE YOU. For what? WHATEVER IS TO COME.
David Estes (Magefall (The Kingfall Histories, #3))
Are you dictating to me, baby?” “I am totally”— she stroked her hand back and forth on his shaft—“ dick-tating to you. Are you listening?” Uh. What? Dammit. He tried to focus. “Listening and obeying. Your wish is my command.” Maybe she’d wish for some oral. He loved to lap at her cream. “Rule one. Don’t touch my bacon. Or chocolate. Or basically anything I’m eating or might want to eat.” “Hold on, does this mean I can’t masturbate anymore? Because we both know you like eating that.” How he loved her red cheeks. “Hayder!” And the shocked tone. Even better, he smelled her arousal. “So was that a yes or a no on the whole touching myself thing?” Her answer was a growl as she pounced on him. He caught her with ease but still allowed himself to stumble back until his legs hit the couch. He dropped down onto it, with her on his lap. Straddling him. He reached to brush her dark hair back, his gaze caught by the serious expression in hers. “I’ll give you my heart and soul for whatever thought is running through your head.” Screw a penny. Go big or go home. “I was thinking how much my life has changed.” “For the better of course.” She laughed. “Of course. As if your ego would allow for anything else.” “I’d do anything for you, baby.” Including walking away from the fight for pack alpha so that she could realize she didn’t need him or anyone else to win her battles. “I know you would. Oh, what the hell, I’ll marry you. And I’ll even share my bacon because you know what? I love you.” Good thing he was already sitting. She definitely stole the strength from him in that moment. Felled the mighty lion with words.
Eve Langlais (When a Beta Roars (A Lion's Pride, #2))
Candor isn’t cruel. It does not destroy. On the contrary, any successful feedback system is built on empathy, on the idea that we are all in this together, that we understand your pain because we’ve experienced it ourselves. The need to stroke one’s own ego, to get the credit we feel we deserve—we strive to check those impulses at the door.
Ed Catmull (Creativity, Inc.: Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration)
Give me your phone number,” I say. “As long as you aren’t planning to text me pics of your ego stroking after school.” I laugh and clutch at my heart. “Dammit, Six. I love every single word that comes out of your mouth.” “Cock,” she says dryly. She’s evil.
Colleen Hoover (Finding Cinderella (Hopeless, #2.5))
Tell me what you can bring to this family. Does your father agree with this union?" Casca didn't waver. "He does. He has remarked to me many times how much he would like to see our families united." Apicius responded with an incline of his head and his mouth turned up at the edges in a thoughtful smile. "Explain to me, then, why are you here instead of him?" "He doesn't have my conviction- that you would find me more suitable than Dolabella or Narses." I was surprised at the audacity of this young man. Apicius was also surprised. He didn't respond right away, which was unusual. When he did, he sounded amused and- although Casca couldn't know it- impressed. "And why do you think I would find you more suitable?" "It is quite simple." Casca looked at me, then at Apicius. "I love your daughter. They do not." Apicius snorted. "Love is not a prerequisite to marriage." "Quite true. However, I bring to you both power and influence- through my father now, but also in my future as I follow in his footsteps. I will continue to bring you and your family honor, and precious votes in the elections. And what I can do that Dolabella and Narses cannot is assure you I will take care of your daughter with every fiber of my being." "Go on," Apicius said, intrigued. I was glad I had decided to bring Casca here on such impulse. "I have watched you with Apicata over these many months. I know how you dote on her, how you hold her close to your heart. She is as important to you as your love for culinary delights," he remarked. Good, I thought. The boy had a sense of how to stroke Apicius's ego, though I knew the truth that Casca- and likely even Apicius- did not. Food and fame would always be first in Apicius's heart. "I can promise you that your daughter will have love and laughter. Narses and Dolabella care not for her as much as they do for your money. My motives are pure. Few in this world have the chance to marry for love. Let your daughter be one of them.
Crystal King (Feast of Sorrow)
Keep doing that, and we won’t make it up to the shower.” “Oh, we’ll make it to the shower. I don’t care if it’s round two or round seven,” I declared. Natalie’s eyes widened. “Round seven?” “When it comes to you, baby, I could go all day.” Taking a step back, she shook her head. “No, that’s just something men say to stroke their egos.” “You sure you want to test that theory?” She took a shaky breath, unsure. “No?” “Is that a question or an answer?” I crept closer. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a competitor. I play to win. If you say yes, I’ll take it as a personal mission to conquer that challenge.” “You’re making an awful lot of promises for a man who is still wearing all his clothes,” she taunted, a smirk gracing her lips.
Siena Trap (Scoring the Princess (The Remington Royals #1))
I’m sure there are plenty of women here who’d be happy to stroke your ego. Our server at breakfast, for example. I was afraid she’d fly away from how fast she was batting her eyes at you.
Ana Huang (King of Sloth (Kings of Sin #4))