Adult Dark Romance Books Novels & Stories

He was quick to notice of course, and he returned again, this time holding my waist while his bulge pressed into my derriere. I let out a soft gasp, "I have some books to pick up by the bookstore before it closes." I tried to conceal my surprise. His eyes lit up, "don't you torture yourself reading those erotics?" He looked into my face. He knew what I was reading? My eyes flicked towards him. "You think I don't know?" His tongue flickered to his lips. "You went into my room?" I was stunned. "The covers drew me in, and I couldn't help but glance through some pages. But I must say, the side effects of reading such books can be disastrous."

Chapter 1 Lyra's POV I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer against me. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more contact. His deep groan vibrated through his chest and into mine, making everything inside me clench with desperate need. My fingers dug into his shirt as he continued kissing and sucking at my neck. He grabbed my waist, half-pulling, half-lifting me toward the bedroom. I felt more like a doll being moved than a person being carried. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't be here in his arms, and shouldn't be enjoying every second of this forbidden moment.

Welcome back, sinners. Claiming his bride is a erotic paranormal sinful Collection brought to you by Josie Frank, author of the erotic anthology Wet Dreams a collection created for readers who crave passion without limits, obsession without restraint, and love that burns far beyond morality. This new novel dives even deeper into the shadows. It is a work of dark paranormal romance and erotic fiction intended strictly for mature adult readers. Within these pages, you will encounter: • Dark romance • Explicit sexual content • Possessive and obsessive love interests

I couldn't help but look down at his pants, savoring the feeling of his erect cock on my skin, wanting it so bad inside me that nothing else mattered at the moment. For a moment, I was in awe of what I had become. This man kidnapped my mother and I, and is forcing me to become his sex slave, and instead of being repulsed by him and his very existence, I find myself wanting his touch. "Do you want it?" He leaned in, his fingers digging into my sides as he brought his face closer to my ear. He breathed down on my neck, his warm breath making my back arch in want. "Admit it Elena, you want me just as much as I want you. You're drawn to my darkness, you can't resist me." He mocked, whispering in

“Your mother…” “I don’t care,” I whispered, stroking his back. “You’re mine now.” He kissed me again, slower, and began rocking his hips in shallow thrusts, the knot keeping us bound. The night stretched on with more—him eating his cum from my pussy, me riding him until my thighs burned, him taking me from behind while his fingers worked my ass open for future nights. By dawn, I was marked, claimed, and utterly his, the taboo only fueling the fire between us. The pack would sense it soon, but for now, all that mattered was the heat of his body and the promise of endless forbidden nights ahead.

She had a late sociology lab; I was done by one. Friday afternoons were my sanctuary. The only time the house was empty, silent, and completely mine. And I had a ritual. It started a month ago. I'd ordered my first real adult magazine online, discreetly shipped in plain packaging. 'Sinful Nights. It felt like holding contraband. This wasn't the soft-focus suggestive stuff; this was graphic, explicit, a window into a world of unapologetic lust. In our digital age, it felt strangely more intimate, more dangerous, than just pulling up a site.

Still, everything he was saying unnerved and excited every fiber of my being in the same instant. I knew it was foolish. I also knew I couldn’t possibly take another round, yet here I was, winding my body with his, begging without words for him to keep going. Until this moment, I’d chalked up the romance novels I read to fantasy. Ludicrous notions of perfection that no one could achieve outside their dreams. There’s always something. A cough, a fart, even hair in the worst possible place—something jarring the all-consuming sensations back to realism. But this? This wasn’t that. He wasn’t that.

my wolf growled inside me again, louder, demanding. Damien froze mid-thrust then slammed in deeper, like he’d heard it too. His eyes flashed gold, glowing in the dark room. “Fuck, mate?” he rasped, voice breaking with shock and hunger. “Is that what you are? My fucking mate?” He flipped me over in one brutal move, my back hitting the boxes, legs wrapping around his waist as he thrust back in, deeper, harder, his knot already swelling at the base. His mouth crashed down on mine, teeth clashing, tongue invading like he was claiming every inch of me. I kissed back desperately, nails raking down his back, drawing blood that only made him fuck me wilder.

Alexander's fingers caressed the inside of Eve's thighs, and Caspian unzipped his jeans. Alexander growled, his tongue running over the top of her lower lips, Eve moaned and shook her head. Aron bit the skin of her shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. He licked the droplets before grinning. "Yes, your sweet blood and sweet cream are what we crave. Alexander's tongue darted over her clit, Eve's back arching as lightning shot through her. Her skin flushed with heat, and her breath hitched. His words moved over her skin as he said, "We will corrupt you, make you crave every twisted thing we do to you."