Books For Teenage Romance Novels & Stories

Jayden walked among the bookcases, her eyes reading the titles and the authors of the books. Alexa had become lost in a world of fantasy, mystery, and (although she would deny it if anyone asked) romance. Her heart yearned for a connection like the ones she would read about, that total completeness that true love brought to its bearer, and it ached at the feeling of emptiness that echoed after that thought. The girls inside the bookstore remained completely unaware of the sinister presence that gazed upon them from across the empty street. Muddy eyes gleamed in ominous glee as they observed the redhead browsing books.

I gently graze his lips with mine, wetting them with my gentle kiss. He places his hands upon the small of my back and pulls me in closer, kissing me back with a soft and warm passion. His lips and tongue dance with mine—sending spasms of lust spiralling through my core. This first kiss feels so amazing—sensual, passionate, and delicately sexy. The expensive scent of his cologne only further spikes my desire for him. He smells so manly and clean.

"'Jane Eyre'? Really? Isn't this, like, some sappy romance?" "It's a gothic romance, which means there's mystery woven in. Read it." She grinned at me, stepping closer. "So does this mean I can give you homework, too?" "I guess," my pulse shot up as she got closer, "if you're nice to me." "I can be nice." "Yeah?" "Yeah." She lifted my chin for a kiss, and as our lips made contact I totally forgot I was still holding the book, which tumbled out of my hand onto the floor.

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She confused me with her old man, I guess. I surprised her by bending over her and lightly brushing her ruby lips with mine, my tongue just penetrating her mouth and touching her teeth. I bent over her right ear, lightly swirling my tongue in her ear, then kissing her forehead. At this point, her eyes were glued shut as she awaited the sensual delights that this young fervent lover of hers was bestowing upon her.

"I have my ways." Dante set his fork down. His knuckles went white against the table. "Those books are filling your head with nonsense. Ideas you're too young to..." "I'm fourteen, not a baby." She crossed her arms. "And they're just romance books. Love stories. Happy endings. Nothing inappropriate." "They're not age appropriate. And when I give an order..." This was going to turn into a fight. I could feel it. I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I used to read them too."

We quickly switched vehicles and soon I was pulling down her pants and discovering the sweetest honeypot any teenage boy could fantasize between two perfect limbs not found outside a Renaissance painting. My well-prepared cock slipped into her and immediately we were going at it. The ex's back seat was a decent sized bench, but soon her head was pressed against the armrest as I pushed incessantly into her. "You're a horny girl. Not fucked since your asshole ex left?"

But I didn't get a chance to call it out when she continued . “I stumbled upon this book the other day. By mistake, obviously. I thought it was a theological study on ‘Fellowship,’ but it was actually this incredibly sappy romance story about two childhood best friends who fall in love after they made a promise to marry each other if they were still single by thirty.” She let out what sounded like a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “They were very scandalous scenes in the book, Leon,” Rose murmured in a low voice. “Their…sexual escapades were so vividly described I couldn't stop blushing, but I couldn't stop reading either.” She laughed again.

“As many as you want.” “That’s not—” “I’m serious. Go.” I moved through the narrow aisles and let my fingers trail over the spines. Some were cracked leather, others smooth paperback, the new ones still crisp and unbroken. I found myself in the romance section because of course I did. The covers were ridiculous with their shirtless men and promises of happy endings I’d stopped believing in. “These any good?” I jumped. Nate stood close enough that I caught the scent of cedar. “I don’t know. Haven’t read them yet.”

Perfect. As I flipped through the chapters, the story heated up fast. The protagonist, a shy librarian much like me, was cornered in the stacks by a dominant stranger. His hands roamed her body without mercy, fingers teasing her nipples until they ached, then dipping lower to claim her wetness. I shifted on the couch, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs. God, why did these books always get me so worked up? My thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking friction.