African American Romance Novels & Stories

If you're wondering how it all led to this moment, where Roman is staring at the twins with wide eyes and confusion, it’s time to revisit the past. The story that began not with love, but with a fateful marriage of convenience, where neither Roman nor I could have foreseen what would come next. SEVEN YEARS AGO "Do you, Ruby Blackwood, take Alpha Roman Wilder D’Angelo as your loving husband...?" The priest's voice echoed in my ears.

The entire town had come despite the scandal. Some out of curiosity. Others out of genuine affection. Because Craneford had slowly grown protective of them both. The lonely widow. The outcast lord. In a two-person society, people discarded finding love in the quiet corners of the world. When Arabella finally reached the altar, Edwin immediately took her trembling hands into his. Warm. Steady. Safe. “You are breathtaking, Rose,” he whispered. Her cheeks warmed instantly. “And you are staring again, Ahkeemi.” A faint smile touched his mouth.

My cock is rock solid and I want to fuck this young woman so badly but I hold these lustful thoughts in check as I kiss my way down her body and bury my face in her thick, carpet of pubic hair. I love her nipples but this other fine attribute of her African-American ancestry is like a fucking aphrodisiac. I've never been with a black woman before and although Jenna is half Asian, her sponge-like pubic hair surrounding her thick, black labia is my erotic fantasy of a sexy black pussy. I hesitate before taking a taste of her delectable juice so I can savor the exotic view. Jenna is getting anxious and spreads her thighs wider, arching her back into a not very subtle invitation.

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.

One evening, as Alexander and Emma sat on the beach watching the sunset, he pulled her close. “Our story started with a contract,” he said. “Maybe theirs will too.” Emma kissed him softly. “Or maybe they’ll write something even better.” Their love had endured fifty years. It had survived scandals, rivals, children, and time itself. Now it watched proudly as a new generation prepared to discover that some contracts — the ones written by the heart — were the most binding of all. The Black legacy was not just wealth or power. It was passion. It was surrender. It was love that refused to end

She watched as the anxiety on his face vanish but there were still some embers of hope in his eyes. "I guess I'll just have to charm you then. I'll charm you into falling in love with me," Asher asserts, yet he was scared his words were dumb. He could be slick-tongued with the ladies when he wanted to, but he had no such luck with Joan. Still, he hoped his words carried over his emotions. This was all so confusing to Joan. She and Asher are in a contractual relationship which he initiated for selfish reasons. They are deceiving people through the camouflage of a fake romance. All that was enough for Joan to refuse his advances now that he wants an actual romance.

"You and I, are impossible." Noah's brows raised up slightly at her response, "Why? Why are we impossible? Aren't you single?" "I am." "So am I. I don't see a reason why two single people can't be together." "You don't know who I am after a decade," said Vivienne seriously. "Just after one encounter, you can't expect us to be together." "Some things don't need to be so complicated," was Noah's answer. "I think we had a good time together. And we might not know much about each others' experiences in these years, but our bodies certainly know each other very well after just one meeting."

Raphael, filthy, and incredibly mischievous. The thought of the discreet encounters they could have all day long makes her gasp for air. As Jannis's thoughts swirl with the limitless potential of their clandestine romance, her pulse beats with excitement. In response to Jannis's excitement, Jake chuckles softly. He gives her buttocks a good smack and squeezes them together. You're being quite mischievous, my dear. However, I adore it.

It hit the internet like wildfire. By dawn, the entire city was buzzing about the headline: "Billionaire Damien Cole in FAKE Romance? Leaked Contract Exposes Staged Relationship." Serena sat frozen in front of her laptop as the article was splashed across every major gossip site. The article came with a photocopy of the original contract, complete with her signature and Damien's. Bullet points were highlighted in red. "Duration: Three months minimum." "Public appearances required." "Emotional intimacy not guaranteed."

I replied immediately and he Cracked. "Don't worry. It's just first times. That's what it feels like" he said and I became bashful again. "You know, Bethel" he said more calmly. "At first, when this whole marriage stuff started, I had been really pissed off. I was so angry with everyone and even you and saw everything as a mistake. "But now, I'm certain it was destined and there couldn't be anyone more perfect for me. "I love you, Bethel". I felt my heart skip. My endocrine system vibrated.