Hottest Historical Romance Novels & Stories

she chirped, clicking play. As the story unfolded, with its sweeping landscapes and tense romantic dialogue, she felt herself being drawn in. Then came the first intimate scene. It was artfully shot, but raw and passionate. A slow, warm flush began to spread through her body, a familiar ache of arousal coiling deep in her belly.

“Please don't tell me this is a werewolf novel or a vampire romance novel.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it's a historical romance novel.” "OH!" I was amazed at Athena's persistence in getting someone to read something she loved. “How did she succeed in getting you to read this kind of book? I know you are not the romantic type of man, not even the type who likes history.”

I had to bite my tongue before I pointed out to her that the girl currently sucking Justin’s d*ck is a significant obstacle in this reconciliation of ours. I scan the approaching buildings, my excitement triumphing over my exhaustion. “Where is it?” “This whole is the hotel.” River chuckled softly again. He’s such a pleasant man. “Hotel Dela Paz is the name that their ancestors had. Dela Paz family has a lot of history up here with the gold mines. That’s where they made their first fortune. Though I’m sure they could afford to have it renamed if it came to that. They’re a successful lot. Generous, too.”

I whispered back, brokenly, trying to match him: “I am yours. Only yours. Always.” He smiled, brushing a kiss along my temple, my lips, my forehead. “Oui. Toujours.” Yes. Always. The sun climbed higher, spilling more warmth across the room, painting his skin in gold, painting me in light, painting our shared intimacy in a glow that neither of us wanted to end. I woke up fully hours later, still pressed against him, his arms wrapped around me like he could never let go. Our breathing had slowed, our hearts had settled, but the memory of the night lingered—soft, intimate, unforgettable.

25 March 1820 Rome, Italy Jacob was lounging on a chair and Mrs. Valentina Lombardi, the most sought after courtesan in Rome was sprawled on his lap, her lush body pressed to his as she tried to coax a reaction out of him. He knew all the other men watching him envied him. But for the life of him, he couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the act. Instead of finding her perfume enticing, he found it cloying. The smoke from the cigars made him feel suffocated.

he said. "Just shut up Ryan!" "My only regret is I didn't get to kiss those rosy lips like I planned" he said. "I said shut up!" I yelled. "Have you ever touched her skin, it feels so soft and delicate and....." "Ryan!" I yelled as I dropped my towels and punched him and he fell on the bed. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed how sexy our little Jasmine is" he said amidst laughter and I punched him again.

"Sleeping. We didn't get much rest last night and she's been strung tight as a wire today. I told her to take a good nap." "She seems very nice, Gus." Linda busied herself taking salad fixings from the fridge. "I'm really glad you found someone." He blew out a long breath. "Listen, Linda," he began. "It's all right." She turned and smiled at him. "You don't have to say a word. We had nothing but lust between us ten years ago. I should apologize to you since it was really Rafe I wanted all the time." Gus gave her a tired smile. "I think I knew that. Back then, though, I was a hothead with more balls than brains."

I never thought of him being romantic. He looks good with his soft voice and charming eyes, but he looks like a devil straight from hell with his furious eyes and harsh voice. ////

I glance at the cover of the book she slid across the counter: a Catherine Bybee novel. “Oh, wow, Mathilda. You’re a fan of Catherine Bybee?” I smile, genuinely impressed as I open the ledger. “It’s refreshing to see a teenager with such classic taste. Most girls your age are glued to their phones, but here you are, diving into a good romance.”

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.