Crossdresser Romance Novels & Stories

Cassie chuckled, her gaze lingering on Sarah. Sarah turned back to the counter, pretending to wipe something that wasn’t there. Cassie leaned in, her voice dropping, conspiratorial. “So? Did you do the deed yet?” Sarah nearly dropped the rag. Her face went from flushed to blazing. “What? No! Absolutely not!” The thought alone made her heart race. “Really?” Cassie looked genuinely shocked, her brows arched high. “You’re telling me you’ve got Jax Reaper Reed kissing your soul outta your mouth and you haven’t gotten naked yet?”

" you don't know why but you're lost, lost in his eyes as if he is staring at your soul. it is like you are in your world with him—you didn't mind about the people entering in or the fact that you two are in one cubicle. but you didn't ignore the turmoil, you were still worried and anxious about being caught. you gritted your teeth. you were so frustrated. your devil side is battling against your angel side. you wished to feel pleasure—you want to feel what it is like to be loved yet you also want to stay the way you are right now. you disliked it. you disliked being so all over him. but you're enjoying it. you're enjoying this challenge he's offering you. one sex won't hurt...right? "fuck y

When I raised my head, I was greeted with a scene I wasn’t expecting. There was Croix, slumped back on a couch, legs spread, with a beautiful redhead already straddling his lap. His hands were gripping her thick, curvaceous ass, one far thicker than mine, and his tongue was lashing against hers in a ravishing display of sex.

The cliffside mansion rose like something out of a dark romance novel, all glass and stone overlooking the crashing waves. I arrived at exactly 11 PM, my heart hammering as I clutched my portfolio. My name is Nova Ellis — twenty-four, unpublished romance writer with a drawer full of very spicy manuscripts I’d never shown anyone. Damien Cross opened the door himself. At thirty-six, he was even more striking in person — tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones, tousled dark hair, and piercing steel-gray eyes that seemed to strip me bare with one look.

Fuck that. I swing my legs out of bed, the coolness of the floor snapping me into motion. I throw open the closet and pull out the tightest black top I can find—low-cut, unapologetic. I shimmy into my black dress and strap on my red-bottom Louboutins with enough force to make the heel snap. But it doesn’t. Shame. Would’ve been poetic. If I’m going to be Nathan Cross’s pet project, I’m going to bleed him for it. One dollar at a time.

"For you. For so long." His kisses trailed fire down my neck, across my collarbone, lower still. Each touch awakened new sensations, new desires I'd never known existed. This was nothing like the cold, dutiful marriage I'd had with Damian. This was heat and passion and need. My fingers tangled in Cross's dark hair as his mouth explored my body. Small sounds escaped my throat, gasps and sighs I couldn't control. The world narrowed to just this moment, just this man and the feelings he stirred within me.

His eyes found mine immediately like he had been waiting. He excused himself and walked straight over, that same cocky smirk playing on his lips. “Isabella. You look like you came ready to fight tonight. Or is that dress for me?” I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a long sip before answering. “In your dreams, Kane. This dress is for the investors who actually respect what my company brings to the table. Not the thief trying to steal it.” Victor stepped closer, his hand brushing my lower back as he guided me toward a quieter corner. The touch burned through the thin fabric and sent a rush of wetness between my legs.

I was addicted. But tonight, they wanted to push things further. “We’re going to a private party,” Jax told me while I was still recovering from my latest orgasm, sprawled naked across the bed with their cum leaking down my thighs. “High-end. Invitation only. Lots of important people. You’re going to be our little date… and our entertainment.” Marcus smirked from the doorway, already dressed in a black button-down that hugged his muscular frame. “Wear the red dress. No panties. We want easy access all night.”

*Will he revert to being the cold, distant Cross I’ve come to dread, or is this softness real? Cross returned, his expression unreadable, carrying an elegant gift box wrapped in cream-colored paper and tied with a silk ribbon. The sight of him made her breath hitch. "Close your eyes," he instructed, his tone playful yet authoritative. Marceline arched an eyebrow but complied, shutting her eyes tightly. She heard the rustle of wrapping paper as he carefully unveiled the contents. "Alright, open them." When she did, her breath caught in her throat. The box revealed a stunning flowing dress in deep emerald green, paired with delicate undergarments that looked far more luxurious than anything sh

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