Erotic Romance Book Novels & Stories

Derick, who had no idea what I have just done. I touched my lips, then my neck, then lower—just once, through my skirt—and felt her breath catch. I grabbed my bag, got out of the car, and walked toward the apartment. I walked into the apartment still feeling Mr. Grant’s cum leak out of me with every step. Derick was on the couch in a t-shirt and sweatpants, scrolling on his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Hey, baby. Long day?” “Yeah.” I went straight to the shower, but I didn’t wash between my legs. I left his cum inside me on purpose. When I came out in just a towel, Derick was already hard. He pulled me onto the bed and kissed me like he always did—soft, familiar, safe.

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Hero woke up to wet heat sliding down his cock. His eyes opened slowly. Doe was straddling him, completely naked, palms braced on his chest as she sank onto his morning wood. She bit her lip, taking him inch by inch until she was fully seated, her pussy already dripping. "Morning," she whispered, voice husky. Then she started riding him. Hero groaned, hands flying to her hips. She bounced hard and fast from the start, tits swaying with every drop. The wet sound of her cunt swallowing his cock filled the room. He thrust up to meet her, matching her rhythm.

He continued, voice dropping lower. “An erotic novel. Quite explicit. The heroine was bent over her boss’s desk, skirt around her waist, getting fucked hard while he called her a dirty little slut.” My cheeks burned bright red. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. I had been reading during my short break, thinking no one would return. I opened my mouth to apologize, but no words came out. Adrian stood up slowly and walked around the desk like a predator. He stopped right in front of me, towering over my seated form.

"I want... to be owned by you... as I have owned you. I want to feel the poison... of your skin... until there is nothing left of the Moretti name. Just... us." He grabbed her waist, his fingers bruising her skin, his strength a flickering, dying candle that refused to go out. He pulled her down, his mouth crashing against hers. The kiss tasted of salt, fever, and a desperate, terminal hunger. This was the "Explicit Erotic Romance" at its most visceral—a union occurring at the edge of the abyss.

When he pressed against my back, I felt something cool and smooth against my inner thigh, the spine of a book. “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” he said softly, voice dripping with dark amusement. “One of my favorites for nights like this.” He dragged the edge of the closed book slowly along my soaked pussy, the leather teasing my swollen clit. I whimpered, pushing back, but he held me still. “Patience,” he chided. “We’re going to use literature properly tonight.” He set the book aside and replaced it with his cock, rubbing the thick head through my folds, mixing our juices. Then he thrust in deep from behind, making the ladder shake slightly.

I groaned with my stiff member grinding against Sera’s abdomen. I urged her to lie down on the desk and spread her legs in an M shape giving me full view of the her sweet parts. My lustful gaze was concentrated on her vagina imagining a million ways in which I would make her cum tonight. Sera, who was looking up to the ceiling, was waiting patiently for some sweet loving and I obeyed. With a crackling sound, I opened a bottle of lubricant and the sweet scent of rosemary permeated the air. My two large hands stained with lubricant slithered on her skin from under the skirt moving upwards to her aroused nipples and that earned me numerous moans.

It hit him like a wave, sending chills through his body. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a woman placing food on their table. One of the maids, probably sent by Diego. He couldn’t see her face, just her back, but he knew—the scent was hers. And something stirred. For the first time in a year of suffering from erectile dysfunction, he felt a tingling. A twitch. He checked. Sure enough—it was slightly hard. Because of that scent. On impulse, Gray stood up and followed her. His brothers called out, but he ignored them. He was dizzy and everything was spinning, but he couldn’t fight the pull. His body was screaming with need.

“Is that so?” He didn’t answer with words. He slowly reached out and covered her hand where it gripped the book with his own. His touch was searing. The moment his skin met hers, the phantom sensations doubled, tripled in intensity. Now it wasn't a phantom mouth, it was his, she could almost taste the smoke and spice of his breath. The hand between her legs was his, the pressure perfect, maddening. “The library is closed for the day,” Grimvar said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through her entire body.

The young woman sitting by me stopped her game and watched me rant in astonishment. When I ran out of angry words, she clapped her hands in succession, and it echoed in the silence. "Well said, Princess, but I think someone lied to you, just like they lied to some of them over there," she said, pointing to a point in the room's corner. "Over there in the blue dress is Princess Kit of the Blue Brook Pack. She was given away as an alliance gift to the Lycan King and found herself as a slave here the very next day. Following her is Princess Yvette from the distant pack region of the werecats. She was told that she was to be matched with the Lycan Prince. She has not gotten over the deceit that