Clean Romance Books Novels & Stories

Instead of letting me pull my shorts up, he spun me around and dropped to his knees, licking me clean with long, filthy strokes of his tongue. “Kael… what the hell,” I moaned, hands in his hair. “Taste too good to waste.” He looked up at me, eyes dark. “My mate. Gonna get addicted to this.” When he stood, I kissed him deep, tasting us both. “This is crazy. We barely know each other.” “Doesn’t feel like it.” His hands cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “The bond doesn’t lie, Rowan. I’ve been fighting it for weeks. Sneaking closer to your territory just to catch your scent.”

Most of them were what I expected—books on strategy, history, a few on Italian mafia politics. And then, tucked on the bottom shelf, almost hidden— "You weren't kidding about these?" I pulled one out, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" "Put that back." "The Duke's Dangerous Desire," I read aloud, grinning. "A Rake's Redemption. The Highlander's Captive Bride—" "Jameson." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the embarrassment underneath. "Put them back." "I'm not judging," I said, turning to face her. "I'm just surprised. You kill people for a living, but you read romance novels?"

A small smile tugged at her lips as she got up and walked over. Running her fingers along the spines, she realized with surprise that they were all romance novels. For a moment, she wondered why Liam had chosen romance for her? She had expected mysteries or something darker. After scanning the titles, her hand paused on one. She pulled it out gently. Whispers of the Forgotten Moon by Evelyn Hart. Carrying it back to the bed, she curled up against the pillows and opened the book. Caleb stepped out of the car as he quickly opened the door for Liam, who came out and strode past him without sparing a glance, as he walked straight into the house.

The gesture was so unexpectedly soft coming from this man that I didn't move. He set my hand down gently and leaned back in his chair. A small silence settled between us, easier than all the ones before it. Then he looked at me and something almost like amusement crept into his expression, quiet and unhurried. "I think April likes me already, you know," he said, his voice dropping into something low and almost playful. "She told me herself this morning." He tilted his head slightly, his eyes holding mine. "I think we could make a good family together."

Raphael, filthy, and incredibly mischievous. The thought of the discreet encounters they could have all day long makes her gasp for air. As Jannis's thoughts swirl with the limitless potential of their clandestine romance, her pulse beats with excitement. In response to Jannis's excitement, Jake chuckles softly. He gives her buttocks a good smack and squeezes them together. You're being quite mischievous, my dear. However, I adore it.

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She drops onto the couch opposite him, legs folding beneath her. “What’re you reading?” He lifts the book slightly. The Collected Stories of Nabokov. “Jesus,” she says, grinning. “You never change.” His eyes narrow faintly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “I don’t know. Depends on how you were to begin with.” “Grace,” he says, her name like a warning—but there’s amusement too, buried under the low timber of his voice. “Are you trying to provoke me already?”

I was eye fixed on the beauty before me. I reached for her, drew her to myself, close enough to make her feel my stone hard dick before I planted a gentle slow kiss on her lips, as I walked my right hand down her waist to grab her ass, this fills well. "This is going to be a long night." I thought to myself, as I unlocked my lips from hers, Sam came up behind her and ran his finger from her neck gently down to her where there was opened skin because of her lingerie he couldn't run it through her ass.

A dark, erotic, romance novel. The goal was to stop thinking about Alexander, but only ten minutes into the book and I'm already imagining his hands all over me. I'm already imagining him bending me over the fucking window of my room and filling me up ruthlessly until all I can remember is the sound of his name on my lips.

“There are blankets downstairs. And extra pillows. So you can make yourself comfortable.” “I will. And I plan to borrow a book or two from your interesting collection.” His eyes are on the bookshelf in my room, which is full of romance novels. “T.L. Smith seems to be one of your favorite authors.” “She is. Her books are dark, sexy, and a little fucked-up. Kind of like you,” I tease, lazily rolling over in his arms. “I am so fucking glad you are mine,” he whispers, holding me tight. “I love you, Callie.”