Adult Romance Fantasy Books Novels & Stories

“Listen to you moaning like a whore in your own shop. Anyone walking by could hear how well you’re getting fucked.” The thought made me clench around him. “Don’t care. Harder. Please…” One hand reached around to wrap around my aching cock, stroking me in firm, fast pulls that matched his rhythm. “You feel so fucking good,” he panted, voice rough. “Squeezing my cock like that while your dick leaks all over my hand. This what you’ve been fantasizing about? Getting railed right here where you make everyone’s coffee?” “Every damn day,” I admitted between moans. “Wanted you to bend me over and use me since the first time you walked in. Fuck… your hand feels so good.”

At Ava’s bra which barely contained her massive tits, Liam’s undone jeans, Ethan’s bare chest and heavy briefs. “It’s my deepest, dirtiest fantasy. I want…I want in.” Liam’s eyes darkened. He sat up, easing Ava off his lap with gentle hands. He crossed the room in two strides, stopping close enough that I smelled cedar and heat. His thumb bruId a melting snowflake from my jaw. “Then let tonight be the story you keep for yourself,” he said. “No readers. Just us.” Ava was already moving, bare feet silent. I stopped behind me, fingers tugging the hem of my sweater. “Arms up.”

~ ANASTASIA ~ I'm choosing to be reckless. I know I will probably regret this when I'm down from the high but I couldn't care less, not when my body melts against Damien's and I whimper when his tongue delves deeper into my mouth. ‘This isn't right’ My brain whispers, but I push the voice back, deciding to turn a blind eye to it for now. This is Damien, my fucking high school crush who crushed me. But we are married. A contract marriage for that matter. Maybe we are just making things easier by…

Her lips parted, her teeth grazing her lower lip as she bit down, her nipples hard. The sight of her fingers working her wet, willing flesh drove him to the brink of madness. His own hand mirrored hers, stroking furiously, his skin slick with sweat and precum. He could imagine the feel of her, the impossible softness, the searing heat, the way her body would clench around him. His mind spun a web of vivid, illicit fantasies. He saw her hand on him, her fingers stroking his length. He saw her lips, red and parted, closing around the head of his cock.

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."

I’m damn proud of it, and I’m glad I didn’t give up after the first fail. I’ve discovered that I get into those fantasy stories where one person knows who his or her soul mate is upon meeting them, or even before that, as what happened in the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas, A Kinda Fairy Tale series by Cassandra Gannon, and many of the shifter books by Eve Langlais that I have loved so much. So that’s where I came up with the Love Mark idea.

I slipped my hand inside my panties and touched myself directly, gasping at how wet and slippery I had become. I imagined him pushing me gently against his desk, lifting my skirt, and sliding his hand between my legs. In my fantasy, his fingers were veiny and muscular as they explored me, rubbing my clit and then pushing slowly inside me. “Oh…” I whispered, my hips rocking against my own hand. I pushed one finger inside myself, then two, pumping them slowly while my thumb continued rubbing my clit. The fantasy became more vivid. I saw Mr. Blackwood unbuckling his belt, pulling out his thick cock, and rubbing the head against my virgin entrance.

I didn't care, I just knew that it was fantastic. With every lick, the ember of my desire burned brighter, threatening to catch into a full blown blaze at any moment. I felt my temperature rising, the heat consuming me from within. Tremors rocked my body as his tongue fanned the sparks that my body nursed. I felt the heat rising, felt the smoke, and where there's smoke, there's always fire. When the flame ignited, my eyes squeezed shut. Delicious licks of fire washed over my every nerve, intensifying every sensation that I felt. The red color of the flames was all I could see, and my ears roared with the intensity of the flame.

"You want a puppet who'll nod and smile. However, now the puppet's strings are cut, and you're freaking out." Francis' expression turned icy. "I'm not freaking out." "Then why switch my meds?" I asked, a challenge. "You're terrified. Terrified that without those drugs, I'll realize I don't love…" His response was to kiss me, a fierce, angry kiss. I fought back, but he held me by the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He had bitten my lip. It was a kiss unlike any other in the ten years I had known him, fueled by both lust and a need to punish.

She couldn't. The book tumbled to the floor as he yanked her thighs apart. No more patience. No more hesitation. Just the raw, desperate heat of her body clenching around him as he fucked her like the illustrations promised—hard, deep, unforgiving. Duy Nam fucked Ánh Nguyệt relentlessly—bent over the bed, her legs hooked over his shoulders, pressed against the wall with her silk robes shoved up around her waist. Every page of that damned book came alive beneath his hands, her moans growing louder, her body slick and swollen with need.