-Nie musisz nic robić - wyszeptał. - Tylko pozwól mi się dotykać. Już tyle czasu minęło, najdroższa.
Amanda wzięła głęboki oddech i nie próbowała nic więcej mówić. Odchyliła głowę i niczym w sennym marzeniu pozwoliła mu coraz śmielej pieścić dłońmi i językiem każdy zakamarek swojego ciała. Gdy myślała, że już dłużej nie wytrzyma tych tortur, rozkosz eksplodowała w niej niczym ognista kula.
Kiedy po dłuższej chwili szaleńcze bicie jej serca wreszcie się uspokoiło, wyciągnęła ramiona do Jacka, a ten wziął ją na ręce i ułożył w pościeli.
-Chodź ze mną do łóżka - wyszeptała.
-Musisz odpocząć - odrzekł, stając obok.
A to oryginał...
“You don’t have to do anything,” he whispered against her throat. “Just let me touch you. It’s been so long, sweetheart.”
Breathing deeply, Amanda did not try to summon any more words, only leaned her head back against the chair. Feeling dreamlike, she did not open her eyes when she felt him move away, but waited passively while he dimmed the lamps and then returned to her. The subdued light was almost ghostly, barely penetrating the darkness of her closed eyelids. Jack had removed his shirt…her hands encountered the bareness of his shoulders, brawny and warm and burgeoning with muscle. He knelt before her chair, between her parted knees, and reached inside the open front of her dressing gown to cup her breasts in his gentle hands. His thumbs smoothed over the nipples, stroking, teasing, until they contracted into firm nubs. He leaned forward to take one in his mouth.
Amanda arched away from the chair, her head tilted back, and she gasped at the sweet tug of his mouth. He pinched her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, in a light but persistent stroke that made her fingertips dig into the resilient surface of his shoulders. She felt imprisoned by his mouth and hands, every part of her focused on his slow and deliberate seduction. He lifted the lacy hem of her dressing gown, pushed it to her waist, and drew his thumbs from her dimpled knees to the voluptuous inner curves of her thighs. Her legs parted for him, muscles trembling in response to the heat of his hands. Although he knew how badly she wanted him to touch her, he kept his hands on the tops of her thighs.
Jack possessed her mouth with kisses so light and lazy that she clenched her fists in frustration, wanting more. Smiling against her beseeching mouth, he ran his hands down her taut legs to her knees. His fingers tucked behind them, finding the softly creased hollows in back. Gently he bent her knees, lifting first one, then the other, until her legs were hooked over the padded arms of the chair. She had never been so brazenly displayed, held open and stretched before him.
“Jack,” she protested, her breasts lifting as she struggled for breath, “what are you doing?”
He took his time about answering. His agile mouth wandered from her throat to the hard peaks of her breasts, while his hands smoothed over the little hill of her stomach, the fleshy curves of her hips, the soft upturned shapes of her buttocks. It was hardly a flattering position, but a flicker of embarrassed vanity was immediately extinguished in a torrent of desire. Her toes curled as pleasure surged through her, and she began to lift her legs free of the chair.
“No,” came his silken whisper, and he pressed her back down, keeping her legs spread wide apart. “I’m having my dessert. Amanda à la framboise.”
He reached for the table, plucked something from a china plate, and brought it to her lips. “Open your mouth,” he said, and she obeyed in confusion. Her tongue curled around the small shape of a ripe raspberry. The sweet, tangy flavor burst in her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. Jack’s lips urged hers to open, and he shared the taste with her, his tongue hunting for every trace of fruity sweetness that lingered inside. Another raspberry was placed in the little indentation of her navel, and she gasped as he bent to lap it up with his tongue, tickling and swirling inside the sensitive hollow.
“That’s enough,” she said shakily. “Enough, Jack.”
But he seemed not to hear, his hands wicked and gentle as he reached between her thighs…and suddenly she jolted from the peculiar sensation of his fingers nudging something inside her…raspberries, she thought, her muscles tightening as she felt the trickle of fruit juice in the intimate recess of her body. Her mouth trembled, barely able to form words. “Jack, no. Take them out. Please—”
His head lowered obligingly, and her limbs went taut with shame and pleasure as his mouth covered her. Guttural moans slipped from her throat as he gently licked and ate, devouring raspberry sweetness along with the moisture of her body. Her eyes closed tightly, and she panted for breath, holding still as his tongue reached inside her with silken strokes.
“How delicious you are,” he whispered against her sensitive flesh. “The raspberries are gone, Amanda. Shall I stop now?”
Desperately she reached for his dark head, pulled him harder against her, and his tongue slipped over the aching bud of her sex. The silence of the room was punctured by her gasping breaths, the suckling sounds he made, and the creak of the chair as she rocked forward, upward, straining to capture his tantalizing mouth. Just as she thought she could no longer bear the intimate torture, the tension exploded in a rapturous burst of fire. She cried out and shuddered, her legs jerking against the upholstered chair arms, and the spasms went on and on until she finally begged him to stop.
When the racing of her heart slowed and she could summon the strength to move, she unhooked her legs from the chair and reached for Jack. She clung to him as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. As he settled her onto the mattress, she refused to release her hold around his neck. “Come to bed with me,” she said.
“You need to rest,” he replied, standing beside the bed.
(ten przykład był kiedyś na początku wątku, ale cytowanie przepadło po przeprowadzce, więc przeklejam ze starego forum
)A jeśli chodzi o krótkie zdania, to może podaj przykład jakiegoś irytującego fragmentu, to będzie łatwiej zrobić porównanie.
A to znaczy, że jednak autorka powinna przypaść jej do gustu całościowo 
