Books Like 50 Shades Of Gray Novels & Stories

She tiptoed through the room as if she were in a museum, afraid to touch the shining oak of the bedframe, or the perfectly smoothed silk linens on top of it. Ruth, on the other hand, had no qualms. She happily wagged her tail as she ran about the room, smelling everything. Caitlin made her way over to the huge dresser in the corner. It had a shining, white marble top, with golden drawers. On top of it, there had been laid out already several sets of clothing options for her. She could not believe it. Each outfit was more beautiful and extravagant than the next. There was a long, formal gown, in a black silk; there was the Versailles version of casual clothing, which was just a slightly short

When I'm done in the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of white wine, savoring the tangy scent that rises from the glass. My eyes drift over to my bookcase in the living room, and I pad towards it. I let my hand caress the spines of several books before I halt at the one I am currently reading. It's a dark romance with heavy smut, gory violence and a male lead so morally grey you could call it pitch black. Love it!

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"Hi, it seems you haven't noticed me yet, there is no other way I can explain your rude behavior. I am Grace Shanks, Venator Grace Shanks. " The look I got from Diccon Faust could only be seen as condescending. "Yes, very pleased," was all he said to me before turning back to Reese. "Is there any reason to believe that an incident might occur?" Why did he ask him the question now? "Not that we know of." Reese put his left hand back into his jacket pocket. I knew exactly that he was now holding his pack of cigarettes in his hand. But I also noticed how he gave me a look out of the corner of my eye. "But you can never have enough people who make sure that the proles do not pose a threat to any

The study was dark, so I opened the blinds and took in the room. It was very... August. Brown. Black. More black. Not a single color brave enough to survive in here. There was a minibar. I wasn't surprised to find it stocked mostly with expensive whiskey. The bookshelf took up almost an entire wall. Business books. Finance books. Leadership books. Books about making money. Books about keeping money. Books about probably becoming even more unbearable than he already was. Not one novel. Not even a guilty pleasure romance. What a sad life.

"When you caught me before, I wasn't, um. I wasn't watching p**n. Exactly." I flinched, waiting for Jennifer to freak out. Instead, she just looked at me expectantly. "See, I don't really like p**n either," I said, "Like you said, it's kind of weird to watch. Very fake and staged. So instead I like to, um, read stuff." "Like Fifty Shades of Grey?" Jennifer asked. "Sort of?" And then, I did something either incredibly smart or unbelievably stupid. "Here," I said, "I'll show you."

My breath was held as he closed the distance between us and held me up, I want this man so badly, he feels like danger and I am realizing that I love danger, he held me close as he sniffed through my hair, my neck while he hovered about my lips "Dear Lord," I gasped, his touch sending tremors down my thighs, a sensation I'd only read about in E.L. James' "Fifty Shades of Grey" or Sylvia Day's "Crossfire" series.

CHAPTER 18 The Weight of an Empty Crown POV: Elara I sat and leaned against a mountain of pillows; the hospital bed was adjusted to an incline so I didn't feel like I was drowning. The Northern air carried along a chill that felt sharp, like it was trying to flay the skin from my bones. My laptop weighed heavily as it lay on my lap. If not for the heat from the cooling fans, then my thighs would go numb. I reached for my phone. It was buzzing non-stop. Notifications were scrolling past like a digital frantic pulse. I had managed to somehow still have access to the back door of the pack’s private server.

Mom supported me, not because she understood, but because she loved me and wanted me to be happy. I stood up and walked around the library, feeling a little restless. They had all of the classics, and some of them looked as though they were expensive copies. Other authors that I regularly read, such as James Patterson and Dean Koontz were on the shelves. They even had some of my female favorites, such as Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner and Heather Graham Pozzessere. Then I wondered down to another section where I found some more provocative books. They had a lot of erotica books. One huge volume stood out: The Kama Sutra.

“Someone who actually reads. Who’s been broken before and didn’t turn careful forever. Someone who… sees me. Not the version I put on dating apps. The real one. Messy and scared and all of it.” The words hung there. Vulnerable. Too much. Callum went very still. His hand moved to his jacket pocket. He pulled out the wrapped book and set it on the table between them. Sloane stared at it. Her throat felt tight. “Who was it for?” she asked, voice small. He rubbed the back of his neck. “My date. She mentioned Zaha Hadid once. I spent three days hunting this down. Essays on beauty in architecture. Stupid, right?”