Criminal Romance Books Novels & Stories

Just on paper. So why did it hurt me so? Maybe because he’d kissed me so passionately I’d dared to think this could have been real. He was probably deep inside the woman I just caught him kissing, minutes after he slid a fucking ring on my finger. The ring burned, and instead of my prosthetic finger, I found myself twisting it in place in nervous jerks. Broken. Unlovable. Why did every single attempt at romance end up with me at the losing end? Embarrassed and betrayed, twice in a row, when I’d wanted nothing but companionship, at the very least.

“Zoe, you bitch! You ruined everything! You ruined my marriage and my reputation, yet you’re here acting like you own the place?! I wouldn’t be in this state if it weren’t for you!” Her eyes were filled with hatred, as though she wanted to rip me apart. “Even Victor… Even he abandoned me because of you! Do you really think you’ve won?” She rushed at me like a lunatic before completing her sentence, her long nails aimed at my face. Before I could back away, though, someone jumped in front of me. It was that regular customer at the cafe who invited me here, and the heir to this hotel, Luke Wynne. “Please mind your behavior, ma’am.” Luke gripped Summer’s wrist, his voice calm but firm.

Except now it was in my kitchen with the weak winter sunlight hitting us through the blinds and my legs wrapped around his waist. It was wrong and yet the most natural thing in the world. It felt right to be like this with him, even when I knew it was going to cause me nothing but pain and heartbreak in the long run. Men like Dion didn't get into relationships with nobodies like me. That kind of thing only happened in romance movies. This wasn't a romance movie. It was my life, and Dion Granger was going to ruin it again. Only this time, I wasn't sure I cared.

As I passed by a small bookstore, the title of a book in the window caught my eye. I stepped inside, the cool air a welcome reprieve from the heat outside. The scent of old books and incense wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. The owner, a friendly woman with a knowing smile, asked if I needed help. I pointed to the book in the window. "Ah, the magik calls to you?" she said, her accent thick and comforting. "Come, let me show you where that one is." The book was about the history of the French Quarter, filled with tales of love, loss, and the supernatural.

Suddenly, she convulsed, a hot, frantic squirt hitting his face as she reached a massive climax. She didn't let him recover. She spun around and lowered herself onto him, guided his thick, rigid cock into her. She took him in one slow, soul-crushing movement that made Roman's vision go white. He felt himself slide into her, the tight, wet heat of her walls enveloping him completely. She began to ride him then, her movements fast and shallow. The sound of their bodies meeting was a wet, heavy thud that seemed to vibrate through the bookshelves. Roman's hands found her waist, his fingers bruising her skin as he anchored her to him.

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.

The rug was a lost cause, and so was I. Ava traced lazy circles on my stomach. “Still catching the morning train?” I laughed, raw. “Changed my plans. Indefinitely.” Ethan pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Good. We’re just warming up.” Liam’s hand slid between my thighs, teasing. “Chapter two starts at dawn.” I closed my eyes, sated and aching and already wet again. The lodge smelled of sex and pine and possibility. Outside, the mountain stood silent. Inside, three bodies curled closer, ready to write the next scene on my skin.

I pull back like nothing happened, like my heart isn’t slamming against my ribs, like I didn’t just light a match and toss it between us. “Because Elara Hale is a gambling addict,” I say calmly. “But that’s not respectable enough for her circle, so she does it in auction houses instead. She tells herself it’s different while she burns millions on things she doesn’t even want—” Damien cuts me off. His mouth crashes into mine hard enough to steal the breath from my lungs. I gasp as his hand grips the roof of the car and he leans in, deep, demanding, pressing my cheek with brutal precision.

I’ve got more stories coming your way, full of fire, feels, and unforgettable love. Currently, I have two other exclusive books on GoodNovel you can dive into right now: 🐺 The Bane and The Alpha Beast – A fated-mate, enemies-to-lovers paranormal romance packed with secrets, slow-burn tension, and devastating desire. 🏍️ Claimed By The Biker King – A gritty, dangerous, and deliciously twisted MC romance where love rides right alongside revenge. Make sure to add them to your library and stay tuned—this ride is far from over.

He almost growled. My eyes widened as he pried my legs apart and without warning pushed two fingers inside me, ripping a gasp of surprise from me, which then turned into a moan when his mouth descended and covered my core with his lips. My eyes rolled back in their sockets. I felt flushed everywhere. Daxton Cervantes was eating me like a hungry beast! "Dax! Ah!" His fingers curled and gradually moved faster, causing the air in my lungs to fade away as I clenched around his fingers. "That's a fucking sight to behold,"