A Camellia Romance Novels & Stories

I said breathlessly as I moved to open the door. He caught my waist. “I am.” “What? Who?” I asked. “I…ordered some camellias.” He swallowed. “I remember you said you liked them. I know they're not your favorite, but they're sometimes called "rose of winter.” He waited nervously but I didn't say anything. “I think we should name our kids ….” Again, I silenced him with a kiss. Tears glistened on my face when I drew back. “I…I can't tell you how much that….” I stopped, offering him a watery smile. “Thank you.”

“It sounds… like it should be yours, only yours. ‘Mon amour.’ My love.” I blushed, my heart pounding in my chest. “You know I don’t speak French.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Then I will teach you… one kiss at a time.” I laughed, a trembling, delicate sound. He pulled me into his arms, holding me so close I could feel the strength of his desire, the depth of his longing that he had never released. His fingers drifted over my skin, tracing patterns I had never known I knew. Every caress was a poem. Every caress was a confession.

COLLEGE ROMANCE Written by:Authoress Ricky 🦋 Chapter Thirty- one🦋 Semi- Final💕💕💕 ✍️Authoress Ricky pov✍️ "Rachael" "Mom" I should probably let you know what really happened before Rachael was caught in her makeout session with Jeremy. The house was buzzling as different kept moving in out of the building. Music was flowing in the living room and the twins were having the best birthday in their entire life.

On the vanity, lit up by the morning sun like they were glowing on purpose…an absurd, huge bouquet of red camellias. Not roses, camellias. Deep, velvet, impossible red. The language of flowers drilled into me by months of boring etiquette lessons my mother made me learn screamed in my head… I love you beyond cure. My heart aches for you. You are the flame in my soul. Undying, ridiculous, dramatic love. Those are what camellias symbolize. I walked over like I was in a trance, lifted the heavy crystal vase, and buried my face in them. The scent hit me like a drug, sweet, rich, a little dangerous and I exhaled.

Clara checked in often, sent her little messages, and sometimes pictures of her son, Liam. One evening, Williams found himself at the café where Camellia had asked him to meet her. The place was nearly empty…. just the soft hum of a refrigerator and a faint jazz tune spilling from an old speaker. Camellia sat near the window, her hair tucked loosely behind her ear. When she saw him, her face lit with that quiet surprise that always melted him. “You’re early,” she teased lightly. “I can’t keep you waiting,” he said, sliding into the chair across from her.

Daren looked up, having been focused on the documents in front of him, then stared sharply at Camelia. “What are you doing here?” Camelia walked closer and sat on the edge of the desk. “I want you to transfer some money. It’s been a long time since I went shopping,” she said casually. “The bag I’ve been eyeing is finally available. Limited edition.” “You’ll come with me for a walk, right? We can go on a date. At night, I promise I’ll give you my best service in bed,” Camelia stroked Daren’s cheek with a soft, seductive movement.

He lifted his right hand to lean his head on it, and his blonde hair fell to the side. When a man approached him with the camellia, he took it and began feeling the petals with his fingers. His thick lips curled into a devilish smile. "Do you know the meaning behind the camellia?" he asked, his voice low but clear. A man sitting to his right sighed and said, "If you didn’t talk, I would have assumed you were mute. You're not even worried that the reason you’re here has been completely destroyed because of this unnecessary commotion."

As we walked out of the conference room, Camilla approached with a large bouquet of vibrant roses. "Kieran! Congratulations on your freedom, on finally breaking free from that woman's chains. Let's start over, okay? This time, we'll never be apart." She wore a pure white dress, like an untainted flower. Kieran glanced at the beautiful flowers, his eyes churning with a destructive madness. "Camilla," his voice was terrifyingly hoarse. "We were over a long time ago. Get lost!" He snatched the bouquet and smashed it against her face, then turned and walked away.

the lady left. Camille took the flower and her eyes widened out at the type of flower it was. Chrysanthemum flower. “Isn’t this a funeral flower?! Who—who dare!” Irene yelled out. A letter was between the flower, Camille took it out and read out the words on it, “Rest in death for an Eternity, Camille Guevara.” Camille breathed heavily, the letter slipped away from her hand. Who could have sent a death note? Who—

“You did all this?” Camellia grinned. “With a little help. And a lot of scented candles.” Sophie let out a breath and stepped further in, enveloped instantly in hugs, warm greetings, teasing kisses on the cheek. “You look radiant,” Tamara said. “It’s the shock,” Sophie replied with a small laugh. Camellia clapped her hands gently. “Okay, okay—glasses up, ladies!” Everyone turned as servers passed around crystal flutes filled with chilled rosé. The room settled, a hush falling as Camellia took center stage.