Quotes by Nenia Campbell

My sub doesnt pay for me,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “That just doesnt happen.”“But we ordered so much,” I say helpl

A woman isnt a whore for wanting pleasure. If it were unnatural, we would not be born with such drives.

I participate in BDSM, but I wasnt abused as a child. I dont hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but its consensual, it serves a purpose—to get them off—and they can indicate that they wish me to stop at any time. I do like the power I get from total submission, and the trust that my partner puts in me to give me everything, from her mind to her body, while expecting nothing in return—except the understanding that I wont violate that trust.

In my experience, the romance novels written about BDSM have about as much in common with actual BDSM relationships as a child playing with a jump rope.

Such a dark green, his eyes. They reminded her of the forest, of all the dangers lying dormant behind that verdant cloak of leaves.

They said the shape-shifters fucked with the enthusiasm of animals—if they didnt devour you with the enthusiasm of one first.

A quick and brutal fuck from behind usually served as an effective reminder of where you stood in the pack hierarchy.

Why do women always feel they have to settle for less?

I didnt understand what it was about men—not all men, but a good portion of them—that turned a good, solid “NO” into an “Im just playing coy; try harder.

You are the playground of which I have free reign.

I am waltzing with death, flirting with him, but he stands there smiling and saying nothing because he does not need to woo or be wooed: he knows he gets us all in the end.

Isnt that just typical. Youre either asking for it, or having it forced upon you without your consent. Who decided women always have to be passive in sex?

You dont find the concept of illicit love at all engaging?”“The concept, maybe. But in literature? Thats like ordering a glass of tap water at a bar.

I cant believe it. He is sporting a bona fide erection in the middle of class. All because of me.In history you learn about entire kingdoms crumbling into chaos because of a woman—or, in some cases, multiple women. I smile at Professor Delacroix, putting an extra bit of swing into my hips as I sashay out the door. Im beginning to see just how easy it is to bring a man to his knees with a few flashes of bare skin, and the whispered promise of hot, sweaty sex.

In some ways blowjobs are better than sex because when you have a mouthful of cock you cant make snide comments.

You wanted to see me, Professor?

You think Im gorgeous?”“When I look at you, all I can think about are the the different ways Id like to fuck you.”“So thats a yes then?” she said shyly.“No, darlin. Its an I-hope-you-werent-planning-on-sleeping-alone-tonight.

I can take care of myself,” I said hotly.“Darlin, you dont even know how to pleasure yourself.

Solus walked over to the young brown-haired man and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, ignoring the look of panic he received in return. You can call me Solus. His golden eyes trailed meaningfully down the mortals body before he added, softly, Ive been told its easier to scream.

Hatred is about possession. It is all-consuming, cruel, and vainglorious. When love is allowed to fester, it becomes twisted and corrupt; it settles deep in the heart...and metastasizes, sending its dark roots through the body to raze all that stands in its way. Love is chaste and pure. Love is banal....No, hatred has infinitely more possibilities.