African-american Romance Books Novels & Stories

Hoping that one day I'll have someone to cherish and love. Moving swiftly to where my book collection was, I picked one that was titled, 'Perfect Chemistry' by Simone Elkeles. The love story of Brittany Ellis and Alex Fuentes is so beautiful. Two people from two different worlds falling in love has to be the most endearing sight ever. Maybe one day I might experience such love, until then I need to pack up these books before Natalie gets here. Putting all the books in a box, I checked the time on my phone and it was past 4 pm. I decided to wash up before she got here.

Just on paper. So why did it hurt me so? Maybe because he’d kissed me so passionately I’d dared to think this could have been real. He was probably deep inside the woman I just caught him kissing, minutes after he slid a fucking ring on my finger. The ring burned, and instead of my prosthetic finger, I found myself twisting it in place in nervous jerks. Broken. Unlovable. Why did every single attempt at romance end up with me at the losing end? Embarrassed and betrayed, twice in a row, when I’d wanted nothing but companionship, at the very least.

In one smooth motion he lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist automatically. He turned and pressed my back against the wall hard enough to knock a picture frame crooked. The new position put the hard ridge of his erection right against the place where I needed friction most and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding down against him. “Fuck,” Nathan groaned against my mouth, and the raw need in his voice sent another wave of heat through me. His hips thrust up to meet mine and the friction made stars burst behind my closed eyelids. We were still fully clothed but it felt so good I thought I might actually come just from this, just from grinding against him like teenagers.

and worst of all, he was my stepbrother. My name is Elena Romero, and I have always been the good girl that could do no wrong. Just a girl and her books they say, but what they didn't know was that those books housed my dark fantasies, dragging me into a world so forbidden that it left me craving for what I shouldn't have. And I would have gotten away with it, my fantasies would have remained fantasies, but everything changed when mother forced me to pack up and leave Italy with her. She had fallen in love with Butch, a handsome man in his sixties, and he lived in Chicago with his son, Frederick.

All I had was a mysterious sense of calm. Perhaps his regret was real, but so what? I was no longer the wife he used to hide his true intentions, and I did not want to become his salvation after his regret. “Miss Dawn.” The regular customer called out to me again, waking me from my thoughts. I turned to see him standing next to my table. He was here again today, offering me an intricate leather-bound file. “...I won’t join you,” I declined coldly without even looking at the documents inside.

My fingers found my swollen clit and started rubbing in slow circles. The sight was too much. Isaac’s powerful body dominating my sister. The way he held her hair. The wet sounds. The raw lust on his face. Rehab had not worked. Not even close. I had found him attractive the second I saw him chopping wood. I had imagined him between my thighs, those strong hands holding me down, that thick cock stretching me. I tried to shove the thought away the moment I learned he was married to Claire. But now, watching him use her mouth while his eyes suddenly lifted and locked onto mine through the crack in the doorway, something dark and delicious bloomed inside me.

he panted. I was only half listening to him ramble on about the moon and sex because something popped inside of my head and I suddenly felt as if I’d taken an aphrodisiac. Instead of hurting, the burning in my womanhood made me move all the faster. I wanted him to quench the fire I felt inside of me and I just knew that the only way to do that was with his bodily fluids. I practically screamed aloud for the world to hear when we simultaneously peaked.

More… specific. I read romance novels and decided the first step to getting his attention was to make him see me as something other than Jane’s little friend. I started wearing shorter skirts when I knew I’d see him. Tighter tops. I’d pull my hair up to expose my neck, mimicking gestures I’d seen in movies. But he never gave me a second glance. Not until I went for the nuclear option. Last night, I sent him photos. Not just any photos. Explicit ones. Carefully angled, lit by the dim lamp in my dorm room, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent them to his private email, the one I’d memorized from seeing it on paperwork years ago.

Running his fingers over the wet lace at the apex of her legs. Janiya wiggles underneath Zane, giving a glimpse of what’s to come—using one hand to push the fabric aside and the other to explore and feel her moist, smooth center. Her entire body is blazing with fire as Hane touches and caresses her most intimate area. They were from two separate worlds, yet when they came together in bed, it never mattered that he was Chinese and famous, and she was an intelligent, kind-hearted, and normal African American woman. Wrapping a hand around his maleness, she stroked him expertly until he was thick and stiff. Mutual love, pleasure, and passion were their only concern. Looking up at him, no man had

He held up the book so I could see how much of it he had read. “You’re reading my vampire romance?” Obviously, I knew this already, but I still couldn’t believe he actually had it in his hands. I was more than a little embarrassed. “Well, yeah,” Brandon said, pulling it away from me. “Fangs of Love by Amber Rose. It’s really quite interesting. I’m doing research.” He said it in an overly romanticized voice and I could feel my face turning red. “Just give it here,” I whispered, reaching for it again. He held it just out of my reach.