Dark Forbidden Romance Books Novels & Stories

I lean closer to him, and whisper in his ear. " Do you know how wet you made me? Even now, I feel so wet for you... " Davin's hand cups the back of my neck, and pulls me close. His lips are just a breath away from mine. " You are playing with fire, Lila. Careful little bird, I might just burn you alive." He growls, his voice low and dangerous.

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“You’re welcome, but for what?” “Everything.” That, along with the deeper kiss he pressed to her lips, was answer enough. ****** Author’s Notes I love futuristic, post-apocalyptic, and/or dystopian fiction. I wouldn’t want to live it, of course, but it’s fun to imagine how bad things could get, and how good people would function in the aftermath. In this book, I also explored a bit how harsh times make even good people do some questionable things. Can you forgive a good character if he (or she) does something morally ambiguous for the ones they love? I like complex characters and questions like that. I hope I gave a modicum of competency to exploring the idea.

Daniel had survived over a century in hell before conceding to Lucifer, Abbadon was nothing compared to that. Just as Abbadon retched her hand back to slap Daniel, he swung his sword at her, an action he knew was going to cost him greatly. The sword made contact with her neck and black ooze began dripping from the wound. She looked at him in utter shock as she brought her hand up to feel the sticky, wet substance coming out. She closed her eyes and the coffee shop had suddenly disappeared and they were back in the one place Daniel never wanted to see again. Hell.

When I bend over to dust or make beds, I feel the cool air kissing the bottom curve of my ass and the damp spot growing in my white cotton panties. I know he watches me. I catch his dark eyes following the sway of my hips, lingering on the way the uniform stretches across my breasts. Every time our eyes meet, my virgin pussy throbs and leaks a little more. I’m ashamed of how wet I get just from his gaze. This afternoon, I’m alone in the lavish library dusting the tall shelves when trouble finds me again. Damien Langford — the oldest son — steps inside and locks the door behind him with a soft click. He’s tall like his father, but cruel where Mr. Langford is controlled.

“I’m sorry, Lila, but I don’t think there’s any easy way to fix this. The line has already been crossed. You might think that because you haven’t slept with him yet, you can still pull back, but you can’t. The tension between you two is too thick now. It’s going to take more than time to put out that fire.” I let out a long, shaky sigh, leaning back against the dusty desk in the old classroom. My thighs pressed together tightly, but it only made the ache worse. The memory of Damien’s thick fingers stretching me open, pumping deep inside my soaked pussy, made my clit throb with need. I was getting wet again just thinking about it. My nipples were hard and sensitive against my bra, and a slick

“Shouldn’t come in? Shouldn’t tell you how fucking hard it is to keep my hands off you? You kissed me back, Malia so don’t bother pretending.” “That was…” she stammered, hugging the book against her chest like it was armor. “That was a mistake.” I smirked, climbing onto the edge of her bed, ignoring the way she shrank back against the headboard. “Funny. It didn’t feel like a mistake, it felt like you finally stopped lying to yourself.” Her chest rose and fell too fast. I could see it in her eyes, panic tangled with want. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

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Little did I know, the spark was about to become a raging inferno, courtesy of something far beyond the mortal realm. It started on a rainy Friday night. I’d come home exhausted from a long week, my blouse clinging to my skin from the downpour outside. I kicked off my heels, letting them thud against the hardwood floor, and poured myself a glass of merlot. The apartment felt emptier than usual; my last girlfriend had left months ago, citing my “workaholic tendencies” as the reason. Truth be told, I missed the warmth of a body next to mine, the soft curves and whispered promises in the dark. To distract myself, I rummaged through the old box of junk in my closet— relics from my rebellious pha