Adult Dystopian Romance Books Novels & Stories

“I’ll let you go after one kiss!” “Childish!” She pushed him away but he shouted after her, “Consider this carefully. Don’t regret this later!” Yara’s sweet voice rang behind him. “Darling, why were you out for so long?” He winked at Christina before returning to the private room with his arm around Yara’s waist. Christina felt disgusted. Grabbing her purse, she started to walk toward the exit when she accidentally bumped into someone else. Michael’s eyes were filled with indifference. “Do you know what shame is?”

She was fully expecting him to give it one glance, and put it down with a caustic remark about trash, at which she would mutter something equally caustic about literary snobs. Instead he scanned it for perhaps twenty seconds. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed, but she did. Not because he was reading about the imaginative contortions of Dominic and Natalya, but because he was probably imagining her reading them and getting all hot and erogenous in the process. In fact, she had not. As scenes of rampant nookie went, it had been disappointingly unerotic - more like a DIY plumbing manual than anything else. ‘Jesus,* he muttered at last. ‘This is anatomically impossible.*

acebook page Read my other books as well on D****e app. 1. Abused broken and rejected- Sunshine Princess 2. The Alpha's rejected bride 3. The Prince's Abused Mate. 4. His Mate, His Brother Luna Also on I*****r and Goodnovel 5. His lost Hybrid Mate- 6. Mafia's Twisted Attraction 7. The Lycan's Rejected Mate

*IMPORTANT NOTICE:THERE'S BEEN A SLIGHT CHANGE OF POV FOR JUST THIS CHAPTER. ENJOY!* Ryan came closer to Aurora, invading her personal space on her seat, and without a word, their lips met in a fiery kiss. It was a clash of passion, tongues dancing wildly, as if they had been starving for this moment.

In the living room, a blanket lay folded neatly on the arm of the couch. He moved to Stella’s bedroom. The bed was neatly made, and a few books were stacked by the headboard. He stepped closer, fingers brushing over the dusty book covers. He recognized the titles, ancient texts on guardianship, and several fantasy novels, they were her favorite genre. He closed his eyes, feeling his stomach twist. The last time they’d spoken six months ago, he’d left too quickly, assured she would be safe in his house, convinced that there was no immediate danger, but who knew his stupid wife and her daughter would chase her from the house? Now, that confidence felt like a mockery.

I crossed my arms and glared at her until she smirked and leaned forward. “Ida will be working at the company from now on. She will go back with you two and the plan my uncles have is to build romance between the heirs of their family businesses. It is either Anthony marries you or her at the end of it all. Who knows.”

Christine was armor—cold, hard, never letting me inside. Not that I gave her a reason to. I told myself I could live with the distance. Said marriage was a compromise. Settling. Doing the right thing even if it costs you. Lying here now, I know better. Ashley doesn't keep me out. She lets me close—even when she swears she hates me. Especially then. Her fire cuts through everything and drags up the parts of me I tried to bury once I became president. And I can't decide if that makes her my salvation... or the most dangerous addiction I've ever had.

I yelped, pulling back to look at him, and then he kissed me hard, thrusting into me with fervor, his piercings lightly scraping against my walls in such a delicious manner. “Christ,” he growled as his lips moved to my neck, biting gently on my shoulder before soothing it with his tongue. “I’d give you the fucking moon if you asked for it, baby. Because you’re mine.” His hand wrapped around my jaw, forcing me to keep my eyes on him. “And right now, you’re mine to ruin.” My breath hitched. “Oh, daddy…” “That’s right,” he rasped, his eyes turning dark. “Say that again. Say you’ll come with me.”

#ForbiddenHeirs Aiden sat on his balcony, the skyline burning gold and silver. His phone buzzed endlessly—friends, enemies, strangers clawing for a piece of him. He didn’t answer any. He should have hated Dante more than ever. He should have sworn never to touch him again. But all he could taste was the kiss. All he could feel was the fire it lit in him, a fire that wouldn’t go out no matter how he tried to smother it. And he hated himself most of all for wanting more.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Damien's hand tightened on her hip, and for a long moment, he didn't move. Didn't speak. Just held her, his cock buried deep inside her, his chest rising and falling against her back. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">