Romans & histoires Hot, Insanely Intense, Can' T Put Down Romance Novels

I’d pulled out of her persistent attempts to make us bond, but she just kept coming back. Further down, I’d added something for myself, reading romance novels. I’d intentionally chosen a mafia romance, thinking I might find some peace in it, Instead, it just irritated me. The characters were so infuriatingly smitten with each other, their lives somehow perfect despite the chaos. Unlike me, the female lead wasn’t kidnapped, dragged into a world she didn’t belong to. I slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the bed. My irritation bubbled over, making me restless. I needed water, I decided, standing up and limping toward the kitchen. My ankle was still healing, and every step reminded me of t

"Ryder, she was in shock to see him Kara had just nestled herself into the plush cushions of the cozy reading nook, lost in the captivating world of a steamy romance novel. The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate aura that matched the allure of the pages she held. the story whisked her away to a world of passion and desire, Kara's heart soared with anticipation. With each turn of a page, she fell deeper into the embrace of the characters, their love unfurling before her eyes. The crackling fire in the hearth added to the romantic ambiance, heightening her immersion in the story's embrace.

I probe further. “So, I excused myself from the dining room and went to the living room, you know how Emily reads so much? She has a bunch of romance and thriller novels, so I decided to grab one and read. You wouldn’t believe it, this author writes insane shit.” She picks up one of the heavy paperbacks and flips the pages.

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Most of them were what I expected—books on strategy, history, a few on Italian mafia politics. And then, tucked on the bottom shelf, almost hidden— "You weren't kidding about these?" I pulled one out, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" "Put that back." "The Duke's Dangerous Desire," I read aloud, grinning. "A Rake's Redemption. The Highlander's Captive Bride—" "Jameson." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the embarrassment underneath. "Put them back." "I'm not judging," I said, turning to face her. "I'm just surprised. You kill people for a living, but you read romance novels?"

Her heart nearly stopped. “You’re successful now,” she said. “You have everything. Why would you want the same girl you left behind?” “Because I never stopped loving her.” The room felt suddenly smaller. Dangerous. Hope was a dangerous emotion for Evelyn. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “You don’t have to,” Lincoln replied. “But I’m not giving up this time.” Her chest tightened again. Every man she had dated after Lincoln had been an attempt to replace something that could never truly be replaced.

I gasp out loud, my back arching with the impact. “More?” He asks with a knowing smirk. I nod. I want more. I want harder. I want everything he can give me. He holds my legs steady and begins a marathon, thrusting in and out with a force that makes my breasts jiggle. His eyes darken as they fix on my boobs and my desire becomes more wanton with the way he looks at me. I push against him with the same intensity with which he slams into me. My back scrapes against the ground and I know it's going to hate me later for what I'm doing but I don't mind.

hot, demanding, tasting like coffee and mint. His hands would slide roughly under my dress, fingers digging into my thighs as he ground his hard cock against me. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, hear his low, desperate groans every time he thrust deep inside me, filling me completely. My legs would shake around his waist while he fucked me hard and fast, sweat slick on our skin, my nails digging into his back as I cried out his name. Those nights left me sore, satisfied, and completely fucking his. Now we barely even touched each other except for quick kisses when we passed each other in the morning. Sometimes, he would text “I miss you” late at night from different countries

I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a