I guess I'll have to admit this straight off.
I am a fake.

That's right. I'm just one of the guilty dozens who opt out of the rewarding elements of plot, character development, and enlightening historical commentary to instead skip straight to the naughty bits. When I flip through a book, I hope to give the impression of a discerning reader attempting to calculate whether or not a particular novel is worth her time, while really my brain is whizzing as it desperately attempts to tally the total amount of Words With Potential that are flying by: words such as "shaft", "gasp", "strain", "saliva", and "dollop". Once tallied, books with an exceptional number of WWP are placed at the top of my pile and others with no more to recommend them than a depiction of your run-of-the-mill-on-the-floss encounter between a fiery chieftain's daughter and a man wearing a slipping kilt and, well, naught else, are given places of secondary importance.

Don't pretend you've never done the same.

So, as a fledgling would-be connoisseur (yes, that is would-be PLUS fledgling, I am in the most beginning beginning stages) of the genre, I offer the only knowledge I have gleaned thus far - most of the primary sources conveniently located to my right, in a haphazard heap, wherein all evidence may be unearthed by use of the Where The Book Falls Open When You Drop it On a Table test.

Let's do just one today. I don't have time for much, there's a lot on my mind tonight besides king-sized shafts encased in the vice-like grips of involuntary internal muscle contractions.

A Well-Pleasured Lady by Christina Dodd.
Let's just begin by saying that Christina is lucky that she picked a good title, because the cover illustration SUCKS. I'd say it doesn't even count as an illustration; it's nothing more than a rose on a pillow. There's not even any glaring sexual imagery, and certainly no well-formed pectorals or disastrously oversized ball gowns to be had. Lucky for me, though, I can read almost as quickly as I can glance, and I knew immediately that this book had something to offer. Something it was hiding, teasing me with, between its coy, deceptively modest little covers.
Consider the long-awaited (and I mean long-awaited; my thumbs were practically chapped from page-flipping) scene on pages 245 through 262. If there's one thing I love about romance writers, it's that if you wait long enough, they'll reward you with a real doozy of a do. Generally speaking, of course.
Highlights:
"nether cheeks" (no context necessary)
"'You like humiliating me, don't you?' she asked, accusation making her voice tremble."
"'Is this humiliation you're feeling?...It doesn't taste like humiliation."'
"'Don't close your eyes' he warned. 'Don't you dare try and hide from me."'
"'You are abominable.'...'Yes,' he admitted. 'But only with you.'" (see that ellipsis? I won't tell you what goes there, it's too naughty)
"'I'm much better than all the dreams you never allowed yourself.'" (say this to yourself ten times each morning while looking at your reflection in a mirror, then experience a 24-hour supply of confidence and can't-miss animal magnetism!)
"'That's it, sweetheart. That's it... Hot. God!"' (this is a prime example of an author's calculated attempt to build up a sex scene, piling word upon word, until you feel like you're just there, like you're in the moment, and you're all hot-'n-bothered, and then you get rewarded with some hard-hitting, intensely punctuated prose-gasm. Talk about satisfaction)
"He'd changed the prim housekeeper into a creature of fire and light. What a triumph to take her so far... on her first time."


You get the gist. Basically, this scene is exciting and unique because not only does he roughly deflower a virgin in a strategic move to ensure her marriage to him (see? I do read some of the plotty parts), but he also pins her into a corner, lifts up her petticoat until she orgasms, puts his head between her knees and talks demeaningly for a while until she orgasms, and then flips her around, slams her against the wall - "When had he opened his breeches?" - and looks intensely into her eyes until she orgasms again, twice more.