Best Romance Crime Novels Novels & Stories

It really is some of my best work. Dressing my best feels like the bare minimum. Tonight, I’ll be Mrs Rhea Voss. Given the kind of power I need to get my revenge, the least I can do is make Damien look like a very lucky man. “You look amazing.” I glance over to see Roofus standing there in a suit. The guilty look on his face almost makes me say something, but I bite it back and just shake my head. “Thank you. You clean up nicely too.” “So…” He drops onto the couch and gestures for me to sit. I do. “You never mentioned you were married. Or that your husband is filthy rich. I mean, who gets last-minute tickets to the biggest auction house in the city?”

He rips the blindfold off first so I can see his face looking flushed, reverent, and utterly ruined. Then he unclips each cuff slowly, massaging my wrists and ankles, kissing the faint marks he left like they’re treasures. I collapse into his arms, exhausted. He wraps me up, pressing soft kisses to every red line the leather left behind. “You’re perfect,” he whispers against my temple. “My perfect, brave girl.” I smile into his chest, still trembling. The chains are cold on the nightstand now. But I’m warmer and more thoroughly claimed than I’ve ever been in my life.

Black gloves. “Mr. Rossi,” the man said politely. Matteo didn’t speak. The man walked over to the chair, sat down, crossed his legs. Unhurried. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to tell you a story.” Matteo’s lips pressed into a line. “What kind of story?” “One about blood. About power. And about how Dominic Pendragon stole everything that was never his to begin with.” --- Back in the city, Dominic stood in his office with blood on his hands.

he said, once I’d made myself comfortable, my arm over his shoulder for balance. I peered at him, wondering what that had to do with kissing another woman. “Who?” “Dominic is the shadow behind the world’s most untraceable crimes, an architect of the dark web and master of digital disappearance,” Viktor growled, then he turned his gaze to mine. “You will stay away from him.” A defiant tingle crawled under my skin. He was jealous, and rightly so. Dominic was easy on the eyes, charming except for the way he always attacked me with a pole, but wasn’t that evidence of his attraction to me?

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His breath was fire against my skin. Damian’s body pinned me to the mattress, his grip bruising, his movements relentless. His scent clouded my senses, flooding my lungs, drowning me in him. His lips crushed mine, a kiss that wasn’t gentle. It was raw, possessive, claiming every gasp, every moan, every last shred of resistance I had left. I arched beneath him, my fingers digging into the taut muscles of his back, nails raking against his burning skin. His body was a furnace, hard and unyielding, pressing me deeper into the silk sheets.

(Teen Romance) Beautiful Adeline: A Mafia Romance (Dark Romance) I Still Hate You (BxB, BL, MxM, LGBQT Romance) All For the Money (Erotic Romance) His Girlfriend's Brother (BxB, BL, MxM, LGBQT Romance) Marina (Mystery/Thriller)

He nipped her earlobe while his other hand palmed her tit through the bra, thumb circling the nipple until it strained against the lace. Marie squirmed, barely managing to plate the food without burning it, her body alight with frustration and desire. After dinner, Brad pushed back his chair. "Wait on the bed for me. I need a cigarette." She obeyed. He stepped out onto the balcony. After burning his lungs, when he returned, the sight in front of him hit like a punch, Marie posed provocatively on the bed. She had peeled off the robe, her lingerie-clad body was an erotic masterpiece of temptation.

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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."