Novel & Cerita Dark Romance Books For Adults

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!

I didn't care, I just knew that it was fantastic. With every lick, the ember of my desire burned brighter, threatening to catch into a full blown blaze at any moment. I felt my temperature rising, the heat consuming me from within. Tremors rocked my body as his tongue fanned the sparks that my body nursed. I felt the heat rising, felt the smoke, and where there's smoke, there's always fire. When the flame ignited, my eyes squeezed shut. Delicious licks of fire washed over my every nerve, intensifying every sensation that I felt. The red color of the flames was all I could see, and my ears roared with the intensity of the flame.

The curly blonde-haired girl, on the other hand, was just confused as she sized me up with her eyes. My eyes were locked on the handsome Alpha prince, so sexy and domineering with his Alpha aura filling the air. He had that bad boy enticing appearance that most ladies would love and his dreamy hazel eyes cute, but right there, I knew he wasn't for me. His eyes were brimming with disgust and anger as they gawked at me even with my mate scent.

“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.

Chapter 1 Lyra's POV I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer against me. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more contact. His deep groan vibrated through his chest and into mine, making everything inside me clench with desperate need. My fingers dug into his shirt as he continued kissing and sucking at my neck. He grabbed my waist, half-pulling, half-lifting me toward the bedroom. I felt more like a doll being moved than a person being carried. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't be here in his arms, and shouldn't be enjoying every second of this forbidden moment.

“Sinful hour” – the title alone had me hooked from the bookstore shelf. I’d been devouring erotic novels like this for months, escaping into worlds of raw passion and unfiltered lust. Today was no different; I was home alone, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood. No roommates, no interruptions. Perfect.

His shorts tented obviously now, his cock thickening at my proximity. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his eyes dropping to my thin tank top, where my nipples poked through the fabric. 'I found them online. After you visited last time, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was a mistake, but... fuck, you're so beautiful.' His confession hung in the air, raw and honest. My anger twisted into hunger. I'd fantasized about older men, about crossing lines, but this? This was real. Dangerous. I glanced at the stairs, Katrina could wake any second, but the risk only made my clit pulse harder.

I choked out, my voice raspy and breathless. A dark, throaty chuckle escaped him, the vibration radiating directly into my spine. "Finished? We're nowhere near finished, Elena. I'm just getting started with you." His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, anchoring me in place as he established a new, agonizingly slow rhythm. It was a complete contrast to the brutal pace from moments before. Each stroke was smooth, deep, and impossibly heavy, sliding out until just the tip remained before driving all the way back in. The sheer sensation of it had my mind spinning, every nerve ending firing at maximum intensity.

More… specific. I read romance novels and decided the first step to getting his attention was to make him see me as something other than Jane’s little friend. I started wearing shorter skirts when I knew I’d see him. Tighter tops. I’d pull my hair up to expose my neck, mimicking gestures I’d seen in movies. But he never gave me a second glance. Not until I went for the nuclear option. Last night, I sent him photos. Not just any photos. Explicit ones. Carefully angled, lit by the dim lamp in my dorm room, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent them to his private email, the one I’d memorized from seeing it on paperwork years ago.

He just shut the door behind him and began gesturing into the room, his eyes dragging across every inch of her body. Isadora’s body quivered from within, the look in his eyes stirring up something rough and dangerous within her. But she shut it out. Because… she couldn’t be dripping or desiring him again, like he and his brother didn’t fucking ruin her body like she was theirs to greedily ravish. “So, you are into stuff like this?” Damian asked, raising the book that she was reading. It was a dark romance, and the title was enough introduction about what the book contained.