Ernest Hemingway Romance Novels Novels & Stories

Licking her lips, she moves to settle herself down next to the tray of delicious food before picking up her fork and knife and moving to enjoy her breakfast in peaceful bliss. 45 minutes later and a belly full of food, it doesn’t take Isabella long before she begins to get bored of just sitting within her room. Her body itching for something to keep her mind busy, that she decides on reading one of her many books, a book known as Our Luna, Our Mate. A spicy romance novel dealing with wolves. Werewolves to be more precise before diving into their pages for company. “Mmm, that’s it baby, moan for us” whispers Eros, loving the way Athena reacted to their touch even when Ares moved to bite her b

It was as if, unlike any other room, this one was special. Elena approached the man and sat across his legs, putting one of her arms around his shoulders. "Gustave Flaubert" he replied. "French romance" the incredulity in the woman's tone was clear. She couldn't believe someone like Aaron was interested in romance. "All French works have a romantic content," he explained, shrugging. Elena smiled, and then Aaron was sure that smile could light up the whole city. The closeness between them was frightening for both of them, and they were afraid of what they would feel when they had to pull away.

She squeezed my hand, but I barely felt it. I was too busy watching Sarah’s hand. She had reached out and placed it on Jax’s forearm, her fingers tracing the line of his vein. A strange, hot anger flared in my chest. I felt an irritation that had nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with the way Jax wasn't pulling away. "You're awfully quiet tonight, Liam," Jax said, his voice dropping to that low crawl that always got under my skin. "Something wrong with the steak? Or is the conversation not professional enough for you?"

“Who said that’s all I can do? I could be the personal driver for my famous, extremely busy surgeon wife.” “Oh yeah? And what if I’m in surgery until late at night?” “I’ll wait in your office while reading those novels piling up on your desk,” he answered, then brought his face closer as if about to kiss me. I lightly hit his shoulder. “Those novels are for Elena. I’m not the type to read teenage romantic dramas.” Liam laughed. “You used to love the story of our own romance. Now you’re pretending to be tough.” I huffed quietly, but inside I felt so warm.

For just a second, I caught a glimpse of pain flickering across his face before it vanished behind his usual icy facade. "The wedding's next month," he said. "Nora needs a bridesmaid." Nora Hunter. The girl who had shown up out of the blue three months ago, 20 and all sunshine with her blonde hair and blue eyes, clueless about the shadows in the world. Francis had welcomed her into the mansion, showered her with jewels, and paraded her around at every high-society event. Francis kept whispering sweet nothings to me, even as he was gearing up to marry someone else.

James sat in his grandmother's cozy living room, listening intently as she read him the stories of Eli, the vampire who had faced insurmountable odds and emerged victorious through sheer determination and the power of love. James had always loved hearing these stories, but today they held a special meaning for him.

His mom drove us places. Thinking back, I know I wish it was like in the books I read where the man was a man and not a boy. Where he was maybe a little bit domineering, protective, and caring, romantic. A man who took their time to pleasure me. I mean I never even had a man go down on me or use his fingers. It was always strictly dick and their pleasure first and it was either missionary or me riding and I swore all they did was lay there and I did all the work. I haven’t even had sex doggy style. I think I only ever had two orgasms in my life. So far. Because I hope that will change. My personal history is probably why I love smutty books or romance books and movies. I can easily live vica