Lowered Lashes Quotes

“Do I like the obedience? Or the thrill of his approval? My brain is too hazy to decide if this is submission, or survival.
Can’t it be both?”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“I think about being… dominated,” I admit, my eyes squeezed shut. “And maybe… being spanked. Disciplined.”
David moans calmly. “I think most women do. Tell me more,” he coaxes.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“I glance up at him. The dim evening light makes his jaw look even more chiseled.
“You behaved impeccably tonight,” he says.
I smile, surprised. “Thank you.”
His hand catches mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles before he returns it to the wheel.
The townhouse is quiet when we step inside, the soft click of the door behind us marking the end of the evening’s formality.
I slip out of my heels and set them gently by the door. David hangs up his suit jacket, his eyes on me.
He extends a hand, then leads me into the living room, flicking on one lamp as we walk in.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“I glance over at David. He rests his hand lightly at the small of my back, guiding me across the floor. We step down a gilded hallway, the pale-blue walls trimmed with ornate gold. The lighting, soft and warm, seems to blur the edges of everything it touches.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“Great. How’s Mr. Capital Gains?”
“Good,” I say. “Really good.”
“How’s the sex?”
I smile. “Well.. pretty amazing. He’s kind of, uh…”
I pause.
“What?” she says.
“He likes it… a little rough, I guess.”
“Rough how?” Lidia says, unphased.
“Well,” I say slowly, “he spanked me last night.”
“My god,” she exhales. “I love it. Was it a rush? I’ve heard it’s a rush.”
I laugh. Lidia’s probably the only person in the world I could tell that to.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say. “It was kind of hot.”
Lidia laughs. “It’s only hot because he’s a millionaire.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“Wordlessly, he continues spanking, finding a rhythm.
I gasp, breathing in muffled sobs as prickling sensation turns to searing pain.
“I won’t, sir,” I whimper, defeated.
I give a ragged cry as he smacks me one last time.
“You’re sure?” he asks, steadying his hand on my stinging skin. “Because I can do this all night.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, voice shaking.
At that, his touch softens. He presses his hand against my warm skin, rubbing slow, grounding circles along the curve of my hip.
He leans over me, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck.
“Good girl, Mia,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased. He turns me gently, pulling me into his lap.
The weight of his arm over me steadies my breath again. I rest my head on his chest, melting into the closeness I’ve been craving.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“His hand leaves the back of the seat. He places it, instead, flat on my thigh. He looks at me, not at the men.
“That’s enough.”
I feel my cheeks flush. I set my glass down.
Then he turns to the table—composed, gracious.
“Gentlemen, don’t encourage her,” he says, his tone lighter.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes satisfied and certain. “Then I’ll take care of the rest.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes

“It feels like I’m living in two worlds at once. One where I steam milk and refill napkin dispensers. And one where David Montclair says things like "I'll take care of the rest.”
― Isabel van Loen, Lowered Lashes