Indian Love Stories Novels & Stories

Haider, who was a quirky and charming neurosurgeon, could hardly be described as anything except trouble personified. The kind of man, whom she never thought she could give a second thought about, least of all get involved with.Yet, little did she know that all her prayers had led her to someone, who was going to challenge everything she had ever believed in and break down the barriers she had spent a lifetime building. Fate brought them together but love tore them apart. “We are all fools in love.” ~Pride & Prejudice

“Let them see. Let them watch how I love you. How I claim what’s mine.” She moaned, and her legs wrapped around me. And then I was inside her. We made love like animals under the moonlight—raw, aching, passionate. I kissed every inch of her, told her I loved her with every thrust, every moan, every breath. “Mine,” I whispered. “You’re mine, Lisa.” “Yes,” she cried out. “I’m yours, Vincent. I love you!” Those words made my soul explode. “I love you too,” I gasped, pounding into her harder. “So much… too much…”

I called out. No answer. I moved closer to the door, positioning myself to the side. Careful. Always careful. I swung the door open— And stopped. A girl stood there. Indian. Young. Her skin a deep, smooth brown… her black hair tied neatly into a bun. She looked… calm. Too calm. She placed a basket gently near the door. Then looked up at me— For just a second. Our eyes met. And then— She ran. Gone. Just like that.

Rissa leaned her back against the wood, sliding down until she hit the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could still feel the ghost of his lips on her skin, mocking the very marriage she was trying to save.

We’d talk late into the night, sipping bourbon by the fireplace, like two men trying to understand life before it ended. One night, after a few too many drinks, I asked him, “You ever been in love?” He smiled like he’d seen a ghost. “I think I have.” I laughed. “Good. Don’t lose it. Ever. I lost mine. And I’ve never recovered.” He leaned closer, genuinely curious. “What happened?” I stared into the fire. “She was. everything. Wild and soft. Brave and complicated. We made vows, blood ones.” My voice cracked. “I let her go because I was a coward in a world built on control. But I never stopped dreaming about her. Every damn night. I see her eyes.”

He didn't answer, Instead, he stood and walked to the window, parting the heavy drapes. Rain had started to fall outside, pattering softly against the glass. "Isabella was once loyal," he said at last. "But something changed, revenge, you see she was in love with me. I should have seen it coming." I suspected that. "Did you both... You kno-" "Yes," he said cutting me off. So she isn't just a love interest, but an actual lover. The thought sent a weird feeling through me... I can't possibly be jealous right?

Flat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d come to America to write love stories, to become C.A. Noite, the name that sounded mysterious and romantic, the one I thought would one day be printed on book covers in bold, swoony fonts. But right now, C.A. Noite felt like a fraud.

Something almost every woman goes through. The last time I had my period, the pain was so bad I couldn't even get out of bed. All I asked for was a glass of hot water. He called me dramatic. I laughed bitterly to myself. Love and indifference really are that obvious, even if nothing physical had happened between them yet. Three days passed. Ryan still hadn't come home. I didn't waste the time either. I started packing up my things, little by little. The house was his before the marriage, so I was the one who had to leave.

With each step they took, they discovered new depths of compassion, trust, and intimacy—a love that transcended their differences and kindled a flame that could not be extinguished. In the heart of the enchanted forest, amidst the whispers of the trees and the dance of the woodland creatures, their love story unfolded—a tale of healing, resilience, and a love that knew no bounds. And as they walked hand in hand, their souls entwined, they knew they had found a love that would endure for eternity.

"Mr. Romeo had eyes for only one woman. Romeo only has eyes for Juliet. Vikram only has eyes for Subhadra." She giggled at that. "You're a smooth talker." "You would be the first person to say that." "So did I earn your number?" Subhadra thought about it. "You earned my I*******m." "Damn. It's fine. I*******m will do....for now." He winked at her and Subhadra looked around to see if anyone was observing them. Marriages were elder women's playground in India. It was the hub for gossip. But, luckily, no one was observing them.