Novel & Cerita Temptation Quote Oscar Wilde

“It's the least I can do for you.” “W-What?” I asked, unbelieving. “Are you fucking out of your mind, Ambrose?” His eyes instantly snapped at me after hearing me speak. There was an emotion that suddenly crossed his eyes, but I vanished as well after he blinked. It was so fast that I wasn't given the chance to read him completely. “In the mafia, we may be cruel at most times, but we have principles. And I abide by it,” his voice was low. “You are a temptress, Schuyler. You may not notice it, but you are. Not just to me, but to anyone else too.”

“Possessed. Claimed. Take what you vowed to renounce.” His rhythm faltered for a heartbeat at her words—then surged. One arm banded around her waist, pulling her upright so her back pressed to his chest. His free hand slid beneath the bodice of her habit, cupping her breast, thumb circling the peak until she whimpered. “Tell me to stop,” he said hoarsely. “Command me in the name of your vows. Make me remember who I am.” She turned her head, lips brushing his jaw. “I won’t. Because I want the man beneath the white. The sinner. The one who still hungers.”

Not when he leaned in to whisper things that made me laugh and blush and forget. Not when, halfway through dessert, he said, "You look like someone I want to spend every evening with." I didn’t have a reply. I just looked at him and realized I was terrified. Because it was getting too easy to fall for him. That night, back in our room, I changed into one of the silk slips he'd bought me. I wasn’t trying to be seductive. But when I turned around, he was staring like I’d just reinvented fire. "Emma," he said, voice low.

He notices and lust flares in his eyes. “I’m serious.” “Did I say you weren't? You think last night was a mistake? Your cunt begs to differ. You liked it, Allera. I bet he’s never fucked you that good.” “He hasn’t. Is that what you want to hear! He hasn’t! Okay?! I’m a sex starved woman who doesn’t even know how to give herself an orgasm . Big fucking deal if I had one on your puny cock!” The dangerous look in his eyes amplifies. “That’s pitiful,” he says with a slow grin. “Terribly pitiful.”

"I've tried. Every night, I've tried to pray you out of my head. Every morning, I've begged God to take this temptation from me." "Did He?" "You know He didn't." His hand reached up, cupping my face as he used his thumb to race my jaw lightly. "You're the only prayer I can't stop saying." My heart slammed against my ribs, and I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. "I've wanted you since the first time you confessed," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Every fantasy you described, I pictured myself there. And every sin you confessed, I wanted to commit."

Sophia took a sip, the wine warming her from the inside. "The assignment… it’s on modern interpretations of taboo relationships, right?" "Exactly." He sat beside her on the chaise, close enough that his thigh brushed hers. "Tell me, Sophia. Have you ever experienced real temptation? The kind that consumes you, body and soul, even when you know it could destroy everything?" Her breath hitched. "I…no. Not really. I’ve always been the good girl. Focused on studies. My parents expect perfection."

I handed over the next note: "If I can't sleep, I'll make out with you in my mind." Enzo soon returned: "Lord, lead me not into temptation. Unless it's worth it." This was getting better! I sent another card: "Oh, it's totally worth it! Don't you think it's better to give me your phone number? I'm too old to play hide and seek, just let me catch you already." And Enzo came back dying of laughter with the note: "Don't play with fire if you're not sure your bucket has enough water to put out the blaze."

She started but stopped looking into his needy pleading eyes. He leaned down to capture her lips again and this time, she couldn't resist the temptation. The temptation of the devil. No matter how hard you try to run away, you will always find yourself at the starting point again. It was the trap of the devil, which made us believe that we have managed to run far away. But the moment he decides to bring us back from this illusion, we break out of it in just a snap of his fingers.

I observe as he tightly closes his eyelids as the liquid passes down his throat; the sensuous action of his tongue licking his pink sugar lips after giving me a sense of déjà vu. Oh, come on, dear self! You never devoured your two-year-old boyfriend as much as you are devouring this stranger. Avoid temptation. Avod this sin. This is dangerous! I agree with my intellect this time without a doubt. Its description of him as sin perfectly depicts him. He is just like a righteous sin, and I cannot allow myself to be drawn into it. He is a temptation that I need to avoid. "Haven't you had enough to drink for today? I mean, how many bottles have you drowned so far?" I ask as he sips on his favourit

he said softly, “temptation is not the fruit itself. It is the moment before you taste it—the pause, the question, the tremor in your soul. You are all trembling now. And that tremor is the key to freedom.” His words settled into their bones like heat. The men behind them raised the apples slightly, red skins glowing like embers in the candlelight. The laughter was gone. The hall pulsed with silence, desire, and the weight of the unknown. And then, as though choreographed, the women lifted their hands toward the apples.