Novel & Cerita Best Psychological Thriller Romance Books

Iris's POV I swallowed, my throat felt raw. The taste of him was still on my tongue, whiskey and something darker, something alpha. My own scent was everywhere, too: sweet, the unmistakable musk of an omega in heat. I was lying against his chest on the study sofa. Rafael's hair was a mess, his lips slightly swollen from kissing me, from biting me. The heat had eased, the sharpest edge of it, anyway, the unbearable burning that had driven me down those stairs

I leaned in a fraction of an inch, a teasing glint in my eyes, "I prefer classic literature. Russian realism, psychological thrillers. Dostoyevsky, Fitzgerald, Hemingway. I like substance." "Substance?!" Ruby mocked, completely offended. "Are you implying my romance novels don't have substance? Excuse you, but enemies-to-lovers tropes require intense psychological maneuvering! The angst! The tension! It's art, Alexander. Your little Russian thrillers have nothing on a slow-burn romance."

His flawless outline accentuated his aquiline nose as his jawlines possessed a certain tension to it, and… Then, she suddenly widened her eyes as a flash of inspiration struck her. What was the meaning of all of this? Christina had come to steal Michael’s sperm. How could she fall asleep so suddenly? Furthermore, she was sleeping in that disgusting man’s embrace. She was exceptionally tired as her limbs felt sore. Christina was not a lady who did not know the dangers of society. She immediately knew what had happened to her. Christina was naked, and there were multiple marks on her body. Her brain exploded with a boom.

The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha. Damon knight claiming his only precious possession as his. But not as a possession but as his love. His first and last love. Damon fell on her sweaty body as they both ride their pleasure and came to an end. His face was dug deep inside her crook. The effect of drug turned off and his body started to get tired. But his heart still wanted to have her again and again. Moving away he stared at her face as her breathing was calmer than before. She opened her tired eyes and stared in his dark gaze

As I lay in bed, the moonlight streaming through the large windows, I would imagine Arben beside me, holding me close. The warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne, the sound of his deep voice—it all flooded my senses, igniting a yearning that felt both thrilling and terrifying. I wanted to lose myself in him, to forget the reality of my situation, but the guilt gnawed at me relentlessly. It whispered that I didn’t deserve this kind of happiness, that I should resist and fight against my emotions. A pure, innocent virgin Muslim woman… With a ruthless gangster, who operated in the mafia and destroyed lives?

But that didn't mean I couldn't at least try to help her. “I know,” I heaved. “She'll work any other case, Boss... just not cases like these.” Just not rape and trafficking cases. I could feel anxiety swimming through my body, as Rafael's eyes bored into mine, burning me with an intense gaze. There was so much tension in the air, that you could cut it with a knife. “Fine,” he muttered finally. “I'll talk to her.”

It was a promise to love and protect, to cherish and nurture the flame that burned brightly in our hearts. A surge of passion and desire ignited between us. The air crackled with an electric energy, and I could feel the intensity building as our lips drew closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, our mouths met in a searing, passionate kiss. It was a union of souls, a melding of two hearts that beat as one. Our tongues danced in a passionate rhythm, exploring the depths of each other's desires. He bit my lips and sucked my blood from them, grabbing my hair.

“What gives you the right to snoop around and dig up info on my friends and family?” “What friends?” he laughed darkly. “I’m just trying to figure out how someone like you ends up with someone like him.” “And what exactly do you mean by ‘someone like me?'" He grinned wickedly. “A firecracker like you? With a fire extinguisher like him? Opposites don’t attract, April. What you need is passion. Someone that challenges you.” “And you’re the expert on romance?” “As a matter of fact,” he climbed into the front seat, much to my annoyance. “I am not an expert on love but I know it shouldn't feel forced and it most definitely should not feel like a trap."

But even as she spoke her mind flickered to **Brock**-what would he be doing, thinking about the quiet confidence that had drawn her to him in the first place? Meanwhile, Jasmine ever the sassy one among her sisters had been captivated by a travel writer who spoke to her about different places; the man was filled with life and vigor. Yet as she laughed along, she just could not help but think of Alexander. Alexander had stirred something in her, a feeling of mystery and danger, coursing through her heart, until he lay next to her, coursing in her very soul. But was she the only woman feeling this about him? A flicker of jealousy emerged with the thought and she quickly brushed aside the feel

"Look at her—look at what she's become. And you still love her? Tonight, I'll stay with you. I can do what she did, but better. I'm the one who's meant to be Mrs. Palmer!" But when Felix heard that, the murderous intent in his eyes intensified. His pupils were bloodshot, like a beast on the verge of devouring its prey. While Darcy looked at him expectantly, he called to the security team, "Lock them up. I'll settle their little score when Felicity's better." The three lackeys stared in shock, realizing they'd become accomplices to a mistress, and now they were going down with her. They began to argue, throwing blame at each other, a chaos of desperate accusations.