Apocalypse Romance Novels Novels & Stories

He offered and handed his pill to me, bringing a bright smile to my face. "Thanks bro." I thanked him, and he winked, rushing out. That was how he saved me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my secret would be exposed. This was a dangerous path to tread—the type that would bring disaster and death at the end. It was that type of romance that has no happy ending. I knew this, and I should stay away. The best option was to kill her and save myself from falling harder, but my powers are weak in front of her.

With the enemy defeated and the darkness pushed back, the vampire world was filled with a newfound sense of hope and joy. Eli and the girl he loved were welcomed back as heroes, and they were soon married in a grand ceremony attended by all their vampire friends and family. As they began their new life together, Eli knew that there were still challenges to come, but he felt confident that they could face them as long as they were united. He and the girl he loved were determined to build a life together, one filled with love, hope, and happiness.

Romano glances at me and I furrow my brows in response. As I walk in,I feel the fear emanating from my men and I wonder who or what could be capable of eliciting such fear from my men other than me. I walk in, taking leisurely strides, Romano behind me. The minute we enter. I see one of my men on the floor,a knife in his thigh,his face a picture of agony. I'm not in support of my men being killed off or hurt by others except me but his reaction is enough to make me burst out laughing especially because he's like that because of a woman.

"They weren't worth it because of him. So, Nora, what about me? Would I be worth it?" I choked on my drink. I hadn't expected him to be that direct. "We're in the middle of the apocalypse," I said. "Romance is the last thing either of us needs right now." He laughed, unbothered. "Personally, I think if you care about someone, the apocalypse doesn't change a thing." I shifted in my seat and looked away toward the window. When I turned back, I found myself looking straight at a very familiar face. My stomach lurched. It was Rhett, though a much worse-for-wear version of him.

With a final, deep plunge, he came, groaning against her skin as hot ropes of cum flooded her pussy, spilling deep into her core. Lena shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her in shuddering waves, milking every drop from him. They lay tangled together, breaths mingling, the aftershocks still pulsing between them. Jason's cock softened inside her, but the heat lingered, promising more forbidden nights ahead because once you've tasted the devil's kiss, nothing else will quench your thirst.

His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing lightly—dominating, claiming. "Come on my cock, little sister. Scream for me." I do, orgasm ripping through me as he pounds relentlessly. He follows, filling me with hot spurts, growling my name. He unties me, pulling me into his arms. "You okay?" "Perfect," I whisper, kissing him. The romance blooms amid the kink—his tenderness after the storm. But I crave more darkness.

I imagined him flipping me over, pinning my wrists while driving that thick cock so deep I’d feel it in my throat. “I’m your little slut, Max….your Christmas whore…” The fifth climax left me shaking, thighs trembling, cunt throbbing like a heartbeat. I came so hard I saw stars, but the ache deep inside didn’t fade. “Please….fill me….claim me…destroy me…” I murmured as tears streaked down my face. The ache only grew. A hollow, gnawing need only his cock could fill. I fell asleep with my fingers still inside me, dreaming of snow and sin.

If you ask me, he should be the sacrifice…" Before I could finish, Ximena had already plunged her hand into James's chest and ripped out his heart. She chewed on the fresh heart, bite after bite. Then, she ordered the eerie puppets to drag his body away and drain the blood to use for the wedding feast. The puppets carried out the command with excitement, like it were a holiday. They hung James's corpse upside down from a withered tree to let the blood drain. "You should do it, my husband."

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one

That was the ringtone for my alarm. I hurriedly grabbed my phone with shaky hands as I glanced at the date and I audibly gasped in shock. The date was staring right at me, unblinking and I had to rub my eyes to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was indeed June 19th, 2665. The apocalypse happened July 19th. One month from today. I refused to believe that this was real. There was no way that I woke up one month before the city of Sloradath was reduced to ruins. But I knew everything that happened was too real to be a dream.