Tease Denial Quotes

There’s nothing I find more sexy—more incredibly hot—than a strong, masculine man with tears in his eyes. You’ve no idea what you’re doing to me, Grif.

I find few more satisfying exhibitions of power and control than deliberately creating desire - only to capriciously deny it...

He slumped down into the pen, and the puppies immediately leapt on him. "Perhaps I'll see you later tonight." "If you're lucky," Celaena purred, and walked away. She smiled to herself as they strode through the castle. Eventully Nehemia turned to her. "Do you like him?" Celaena made a face. "Of course not. Why would I?" You converse easily. It seems as if you have...a connection." "A connection?" Celaena choked on the word. "I just enjoy teasing him." "It's not a crime if you consider him handsome. I'll admit I judged him wrong; I thought him to be a pompous, selfish idiot, but he's not so bad." "He's a Havilliard." "My mother was the daughter of a chief who sought to overthrow my grandfather." "We're both silly. It's nothing." "He seems to take great interest in you." Celaena's head whipped around, her eyes full of long-forgotten fury that made her belly ache and twist. "I would sooner cut out my own heart than love a Havilliard," she snarled. They completed their walk in silence, and when they parted ways, Celaena quickly wished Nehemia a pleasant evening before striding to her part of the castle.

Dude, you can't just imply a guy's gonna get a blowjob and then pull back! I mean there's some sort of rule about that... blowjob etiquette or something, isn't there?

Words, Grif. Tell me how you’re feeling.

Cocksucker! You’re a fucking Cocksucker, Grif! My Cocksucker!

There'd been rules agreed upon for these particular types of torment sessions. I was rarely restrained, but I was to remain absolutely still. I was to keep my arms and legs where he'd placed them, or where I'd laid them when the session began.

Your super powers are safe. I made sure your magic underwear is in place, Jockboy.

I will tease you, bite you, and spank you.

So long as we understand each other, Grif; you wanna suck me, and I like blow jobs...nothing more to it than that.

You're not listening." Savannah squirmed, trying to get out from under him. "You're trying to seduce me." She said it indignantly. He lifted his head, pale eyes roaming possessively over her beautiful freatures. "Yes,I am. Is it working?" His voice-a low, teasing caress-disarmed her where denial would not have. His hand was spanning her throat, his thumb brushing tenderly along her neck, sending flames licking along her skin. She was smiling at his words in spite of every effort not to. "No, it isn't working at all," she lied. She couldn't look at him without wanting him. Her pulse was racing beneath the pad of his thumb. Her skin was hot satin, inviting his touch, inviting further exploration. There was conflict in her mind, fear uppermost, but there was also desire. Gregori focused on that, fed that spark of need with his own. He touched his mouth to the corner of hers, brushed a velvet-soft whisper across her lips, and felt her heart jump wildly in response. "Are you certain? I have learned much over the centuries. There is an art to making love." It was blatant sorcery now, all-out seduction.

She had seen expert methods of flirtation and temptation, not to mention last-minute flip of denial. What men liked to call a tease. What they loved to call a tease. They stomped and growled about it, but they always hung around for more.

And you approve of your future sister-in-law?” Cade asked. “Sure. Isabelle seems great.” Her sister, on the other hand . . . Huxley studied him as he slid on his boxer briefs. “What’s the ‘but’?” “No ‘but,’” Vaughn said. “I like Simon’s fiancée.” And, fortunately for him, she inherited all the good-natured genes in the family. Cade furrowed his brow. “There it is again—that look. Like you want to say more.” Vaughn scoffed at that as he pulled on his clothes. “There’s no look.” Cade pointed. “Huxley just put on his underwear. Not once, in the two years that you two have been partners, have you ever missed an opportunity to smirk at the fact that the man irons his boxer briefs.” “Hey. They fold neater that way. It saves space in the drawer,” Huxley said. Cade gave Vaughn a look. I rest my case. “So? What gives?” Vaughn took in the tenacious expression on his friend’s face and knew that any further denials would only bring on more questions. He sighed. “Fine.” He thought about where to begin. “Isabelle has a sister.” Huxley rolled his eyes. “Here we go.” “No, no. Not here we go. She and I are not going anywhere,” Vaughn said emphatically. “The woman’s a . . .” He paused, trying to think of the right word. He caught sight of another agent, Sam Wilkins, passing by their row of lockers. The man was a walking dictionary. “Hey, Wilkins—what’s that word you used the other day, to describe the female witness who kept arguing with you?” “Termagant,” Wilkins called over. “Means ‘quarrelsome woman.’” Vaughn nodded at Cade and Huxley in satisfaction, thinking that definition perfectly captured Sidney Sinclair. “There. She’s a termagant.” “It can also mean ‘vixen,’” Wilkins shouted from the next aisle over. “Thank you, Merriam-Webster,” Vaughn called back, with a half growl. “I think we’ve got it.” Cade raised an eyebrow teasingly. “So. Does the vixen have a name?” Yep, Vaughn had walked right into that one. “Sidney

I tilted my head. "So you cyber stalked me." "You didn't cyber stalk me?" My smile tickled the inside of my mouth as his eyes attempted to tease it out. Denial didn't see worth it. After a silent tug of war, I cleared my throat and squinted down at the menu to disguise my defeat. "Your niece is adorable.

Your cock is small, yes. But it’s perfect, not only because it’s beautifully shaped and so pretty to look at, but mostly because it's part of you—of who you are.” He shifted a bit, and his thumb drew light strokes on my dick’s most sensitive spot under the head, filling me with both pleasure and longing. “If you weren’t the size you are, and you didn’t need the things you need…then you wouldn’t need me the same way…and I wouldn’t need you in the same way. I love you, every single part of you.

He snapped back to the present, once again utterly distracted by the woman before him. “We should head back. I’ve got things to do.” “Things? Ooh. That sounds utterly decadent. What kind of things are you planning? I’m very partial to nipple play just so you know.” The bag with its leftover treats provided a shield to hide the tenting of his trousers, but nothing could quell the heat in his blood. Why did she do things on purpose to tease him? Why are we not taking her up on her offer? Why wouldn’t his liger go take a fucking nap like other bloody felines? A glower didn’t deter her from linking her arm through his as they left. A tight-lipped countenance didn’t stem her adorable chattering as they walked. A firm leash on his emotions didn’t prevent the spurt of pleasure at her touch. A denial of their involvement didn’t stop his growl of jealousy when some yuppies they passed on the sidewalk swiveled to give her a second look. Were the teeth he bared necessary? Yes. Was the sigh as he entered the lobby and a dozen lionesses went “ooh” avoidable? No. Nor could he avoid the snickers that followed Luna singing, “Bow-chica-wow-wow,” especially since Meena joined in and began the impromptu dance that involved a lot of hip shaking and breast jiggling. Throw her over our shoulder and take her to our room. We must claim her before another does. What happened to his usually staid and laid back inner feline? The right woman happened. But what was right for his wild side wasn’t what the more serious man side wanted. She is chaos. Yes. And wondrous for it. She is physically perfect. And tempting him to take a bite. She’ll never let you have a moment of peace. His life would have purpose. She would love me with the passion and embrace of a hurricane. But could he survive the storm? Or should he try and outrun it? She would catch us. She is strong. A true huntress. Rawr. Possible life-changing inner conversations were best conducted out of sight, especially since it made him less mindful of his surroundings allowing his cousin Luna to sidle alongside and mutter, “I see the look in your eye.” “What look?” “The one that sees something yummy it wants to eat.” Was he truly that obvious? “I’m not hungry. I just had breakfast.” Luna elbowed him as she snickered. “Way to pretend ignorance. I know that you know what I know is happening.” “Say that fast five times.” She did. Luna wasn’t just quick on her feet. “So when are you claiming her?” the nosy woman asked. “Never.” He ignored his feline collapsing in a heap. “Leo. I am shocked at you. Aren’t you the one who advocates honesty?” “Only if it won’t cause irreparable harm. Then even giant white lies are allowed. Anything to hold back the insidious forces of chaos.

Would anyone care to explain how you two happen to be discussing—if I’m not mistaken—three-way sex,” Viktor said. Marissa visibly gulped. She looked helplessly at Morgan. “I was teasing Ms. Cole.” Morgan shrugged. “And she blasted me for my dig at you yesterday regarding the ménage. I suggested you looked like a man who was into that stuff.” Fucking Stan Morgan. Viktor kept his mouth shut. Morgan’s lips twitched. Marissa waited patiently for him to say something. Probably a denial. But he couldn’t lie. “Viktor?” his woman prompted. “I’m fucking going to gut you, Morgan,” Viktor repeated his threat to the man yesterday. “Oh, my God? You’re into that?” Marissa asked. “Two women, one man or two men, one woman?” “Both,” Viktor said. “And I’m not into that. Just occasionally. If the woman wants to.” He cut a sharp glance at Marissa. “But don’t get any ideas because I’m not sharing you with any man or woman.” “So the um, two men, one woman.” Marissa was beet red and her voice trailed off. “Do you and the other guy—” Jesus. Fuck. Shit. “No,” Viktor roared. ~ Viktor, Marissa, Stan Morgan

Is the weather nice?” “Yeah, we’re in Austin. Got here about an hour ago. It’s probably 80 degrees.” “Wish I could say the same for here.” I sigh. “Get this: it snowed last night. Like real, motherfucking snowflakes.” I’m trying to act pissed, but I can’t bring myself to it because I’m so happy to be talking to Gus right now. I know I don’t have long, so I need to make the most of it. He laughs. “No way?” “Yeah, it’s October. Isn’t snow against the rules or something until at least December?” “You’re asking the wrong dude that question. Is it cold?” “Yeah, I had to buy a winter coat today. Though for the locals this is probably still T-shirt weather. I swear Minnesotans have some sort of mutant gene that makes them immune to hot and cold. It’s freaky.” He laughs again but then turns serious. “What about boots? Did you buy some boots? You’ll need boots.” It’s funny when he acts parental. I over-exaggerate a full body shiver. “Stop. Buying the coat was bad enough. I don’t want to give in to the snow boots yet. I need time to work up to that. Maybe next month, or the one after that.” The truth is, I’ll need to buy the boots new, because used shoes skeeve me out, and I need to save up for them. That will take a while. “You’re right, you’d better pace yourself.” He’s teasing me. I tease him right back. “Need I remind you that you’re touring the United States this winter? That includes the northern frigid states. You’re going to need to buy a winter coat too, you know.” He exhales through gritted teeth. “I know. I’m still in cold-weather denial.” “It’s a nice place to visit, denial, but you can’t live there forever, dude.” Maybe I should take my own advice. “Bright Side, are you quoting Confucius or JFK? That sounds so familiar.” I know without seeing him that he’s wearing this dumb, mocking expression that makes me laughevery time. “Dude, I think it was Yoda, in The Empire Strikes Back. It was part of Luke’s Jedi training or something.

The Letter Game: Again, there is not much you have to do for this game. You tell your partner to write you a letter. The letter can be handwritten, typed, or even emailed. Give him a deadline. Tell him it must be in your hands (or in-box) by a certain day and time. Make sure he has time to write such a letter. The subject of the letter is, of course, your choice. It could be his favorite fantasy, or his deepest, darkest, fantasy. It could be a letter giving you all the reasons he can come up with that you should deny him an orgasm. That one is especially good if you want to tell him that he has convinced you that you should deny him the orgasm you promised. You can choose any subject you like. You can even give him the subject of one of your favorite fantasies and see what he does with it. Remember, just because he does what you ask does not mean you have to give him what you promised. You can always say that he did not do well enough, or that you changed your mind. Teasing games are all about winning. He wants to win in order to get an orgasm, you want to win in order to deny him one. In many cases, he will be just as happy being denied, as you are denying him. It is just the way the game is played. Just because you lose, does not mean he wins. He should understand that there are times when you, as a woman, can change your mind. The point is, he will have had fun trying to accomplish whatever task you assigned.