Him Razorblade Romance Novels & Stories

A dangerous allure pulsed in its presence, tempting me with the illusion of control over an internal tempest. Kneeling, my back met the cold wall, my knees drawn close to my chest. The razor felt cool against my trembling fingers. As I observed its ominous beauty, the desire to sever the physical pain mirrored the chaos within. I hesitated, caught in a struggle between the longing for relief and the innate instinct for self-preservation. The blade, a silent witness to the turmoil, hung in the air, its promise of escape tauntingly within reach. The bathroom held a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of my breaths and the persistent echoes of his lies. The razor's cold touch agai

I firmly grasped the sharp blade, causing Jonathan's eyes to widen in shock. "I want to fulfil your every desire, please let me do this.” I implored, and without hesitation, I started cutting my hand. The pain was only a fleeting sensation as my wounds healed within seconds. I would do anything for my love, and this was nothing compared to the torment he had endured. Jonathan turned away from me, his back facing me. As he was about to escape, I grabbed his arm tightly, refusing to let him go. Anger burned in his eyes as he faced me.

"Why? What do I have done? Tell me in detail, Blade." Blade struck the table in exasperation with her clench fist. "Don't act innocent, you pervert!" "Pervet? No. Didn't you want it? But your meat juices for me." "Shut up!" Blade threw him the table knife, which made a cut in Lorcan's face. Hearing him talk about it pissed her off. Although she really despises it, she could not deny that her wolf willingly accepted him. It makes her crazy as hell.

Twirling in her elegant fingers like a coin in a magicians hand was her old friend, closest companion, and most used weapon: her razor blade; glinting off the golden rays from the sun that swam through the cheap and lace-like curtains of the window and finding their way into the small room only to be reflected off the blade like moonlight on snow. Her pale forearm now stung while her once healing wound burned profusely at her side, but she seemed so numb to the pain that tried to scour through her body, as if none of it really existed or even if it did, it existed so far back away from everything that it was seemingly nonexistent. She was tired of everything, from breathing to blinking to ev

I snarl at him. “Oh, cher. Fraid dat was da wrong answer, you,” Razor says as he lights a blow touch. “Dis gonna hurt.” I scream as my skin blisters, and the acrid scent of burning flesh reaches my nose. It will be a long time before I can dance again, much less wear my favorite set of heeled boots. Well, once I buy new ones to replace the ones Ransom stole. I gotta say that man has great tastes in fashion. Sure enough, I wake up screaming, remembering the smell and feel of my flesh being peeled away. I check my feet to see the grafted skin on them.

"This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself." Nanny laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, Isa. You’re making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world. Just imagine it—a forbidden workplace romance, secret glances, and the tension! Oh, how thrilling! The babysitter and the boss. You’ve already got the perfect setup." I glare at her. "Nanny, stop. He’s my boss, and he has a child. A cute child, by the way, who is clearly going through something. I’m not about to entertain any fantasies about him."

Razor told Xurden with sadness in his voice. “What did you sacrifice?” “Life of the most important in my life.” “That means Arasia wasn’t the one you cherished,” he said with anger in his tone. “Don’t tell me you're playing with Arasia’s heart.” “No. You’re wrong about that. She’s my love. It all just happened before. I have already forgotten about that woman.” “You don’t sound like it.” Razor sat up straight when he noticed he was trying to divert his attention to somewhere else. “Let’s talk about you and Yric,” the man said.

"I've been bleeding since Day One. Every time you look at me like I’m a business transaction, a piece of me dies. You wanted to detox? Well, look at me. I’m the one going through withdrawal." He reached up, his hand covering mine the one holding the razor. He didn't pull it away. He pressed it closer, the sharp edge of the steel digging into the foam just above his jugular. "Finish it," he challenged, his voice thick with a desperate, hopeless romance. "Finish the shave, or finish me. Just don't walk away from me again today."

But then my eyes caught a glimpse of our reflection in the mirror. Roza's hand was holding a shiny curved blade, about twelve inches long. Its gleam reflected against the sunlight. The girl made a lightning strike at me. Her razor-sharp knife aimed directly at my throat, attempting to slit it out. But I pulled away just in time and grabbed her wrist, twisting the knife out of her hand. "What the..." I stared at the girl as my hand went back to her throat. "Go to hell, you bloodsucker!" Roza snarled back. I looked at her long curved blade and then back at the innocent-looking human Roza again. "A hunter?"

*Slash* A whip strikes her thin back, almost tearing the flimsy piece of cloth she wore. "Aren't you truly worthless?" *Slash* Another whip hits her back, almost making a cross on her back. Ethan closes his eyes , his knuckles almost white with his strong grip on the metal railing. "Aww what a poor self. He choose her over you? What a shame." "But don't worry love , we will have more fun here anyways." *Slash* Another whip hits her , but this time it hits her front, making her come out of her cocooned self. Her teary face becoming visible. Her mouth opens and closes again , but no scream leaves her lip.