Best Erotic Romance Novels Novels & Stories

“I knew you’d look so fucking good taking Daddy’s cock.” Mr. Collins started moving again, with slow and delibrate, deep rolls of his hips that made his thick cock hit every sensitive inch inside me. The wet, sound of my pussy sucking him in and out filled the shower. Ria’s fingers pinched and rolled my nipples while she kissed and sucked on my neck, leaving little marks.

I say and opened one titled "Professional slut " «I grab his dick and...« " I quickly close it. "What the fuck is that, did you buy me a erotic novel " I yelled at Hunter. He shrug and went back to his laptop. I pick up the second one "Ex-boyfriend " from the same author. "Jesus Christ!! I scream as the book fall from my hand. "What? " Hunter ask. "Are you seriously asking me that, you bought me a fuvking erotic novel and you expect me to read it " I yell.

I picked a thriller, but as it started, Ryan stretched out, his arm draping behind me. His thigh brushed mine, and sparks shot through me. I could smell his clean soap scent, mixed with something masculine that made my mouth water. Halfway through, the plot twisted into something steamier. The main characters, a couple on the run, ended up in a motel room. The screen filled with them kissing, hands roaming. The woman pushed the man against the wall, her fingers tugging at his shirt. He growled and flipped her around, yanking her skirt up. My breath hitched as he exposed her ass, spanking it lightly before sliding his hand between her legs.

Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

“Not a conversation. This.” I couldn’t deny it. The words would have been lies. Instead I pushed back to meet every thrust, the slap of skin on skin too loud in the quiet room, the wetness of my own arousal making every stroke filthy and perfect. His free hand reached around and found my clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles while he drove into me. The dual sensation built another orgasm with terrifying speed. “Damian— I’m—” “I know. Come.”

Still, doubt creeps in as I focus on her eyes, “Is this the right thing for you though?” She looks at me for a long minute, before finding my hand and leading it down her body. Her boobs, soft and perky, her flat stomach, and finally deeper. Past her panties and I feel her wetness. My hand is soaked, and she groans when my hand comes into contact with her dripping pussy. The sound is so sexy, so raw. “Just from that kiss, my love. We can talk about whether it's right tomorrow.” I don't need any other confirmation. I grab her.

The contrast of his rough, masculine hand against her soft, porcelain skin was the most erotic thing Ruth-Ann had ever experienced. "There," he whispered, his voice thick with a hunger he could barely suppress. He began to do up her buttons, one by one, his knuckles grazing the valley between her breasts with every movement. "You're alright now. He's gone." "Thank you," she sniffled. Ryder reached up and cupped her face, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. The intensity between them was hotter than lava, a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Ruth-Ann leaned into his palm, her eyes fluttering shut as she breathed in the scent of him.

she gasped, rolling her hips in slow, sensual circles. Damon’s hands gripped her ass, guiding her. “Ride me, baby. Take what you need.” His voice was rough velvet. She rode him with building passion, breasts bouncing as she leaned forward to kiss him. He thrust up to meet her, hitting that perfect spot every time. The pleasure was mad—intense waves crashing through her core. He flipped them suddenly, staying buried deep, and made love to her in missionary with surprising tenderness.

I felt her arch just a fraction into my touch, her perfume wrapping around me… something expensive and filthy, like jasmine and pure sex. We reached the rare books room, the air thick with the smell of aged paper, polished wood, and now… the faint, sweet musk of two women who were already wet for each other. I pulled the volume from its shelf, handling it carefully, and handed it to her. Our fingers brushed… and stayed. The spark was instant, electric, shooting down my spine and making my cunt throb so hard I had to bite my lip.

No mistaking what it was. Her body ground against him, every move of her hips rubbing over his hardness. Heat surged through her veins. And then it hit her—his scent. That same scent from earlier. Her eyes snapped open. It’s him! The guy at the counter! Her body burned hotter with that realization. Wetness pooled between her thighs. Flashes of his veiny hand skimming her curves made her bite back a moan. She pushed harder against him, rolling her hips until he groaned into her ear.