Lights Out Book Dark Romance Novels & Stories

She caught the sound of a door opening and then closing with a quiet click into its housing. Her heart skipped a beat as she lay there, listening to Adrastos’s quiet tread. The whole suite was shrouded in darkness because she’d switched off all the lights before she’d climbed into bed, so she lay listening to the rustle of clothing, then picked up the scent of brandy as he lifted the covers and slid next to her. “I know you’re awake,” he said slowly.

The chest that was still bare and undeniably enticing. “This is the only time I’m a fan of lights-out in the bedroom.” It was an easy comment made seconds before he leaned over and hit the button that turned off both bedside lamps simultaneously. The room went dark and Chloe’s heart began to pound a different rhythm. It wasn’t a totally unfamiliar feeling but one that she didn’t welcome now. She pulled the covers up, tucking them tight beneath her armpits, and closed her eyes. She could do this. She could sleep in the same bed with a guy....There was nothing she couldn’t do...

Permission to ask out his ex-girlfriend. I couldn’t turn that down. Carefully making my way up the cracked path and broken steps, a chill ran up my spine. I forced the heavy front door open, hinges screaming, and stepped inside with my flashlight. A magnificent staircase wound upward. The formal parlor had ornate molding and faded silk wallpaper. I cleared an antique camelback sofa, lit candles and a fire in the marble fireplace, and settled in with my book, surprisingly comfortable. Hours later, near midnight, a cold breeze woke me from a pleasant dream. The fire still burned, but flickered strangely. I scanned the room — everything seemed normal.

The grand library glowed with the soft amber light of floating lanterns and a roaring hearth fire that cast long, dancing shadows across towering shelves. Guests had retired for the evening after another lavish solstice supper, but the manor refused to sleep. Enchanted books rustled faintly on their own, pages turning as if reading scandalous secrets aloud. Elara slipped inside after midnight, telling herself she only wanted a quiet moment with a novel to calm her racing mind. In truth, her body burned.

Even as Theo pulled me against his chest, even as his heartbeat pressed steady against my ear, I could feel Damien’s smirk lingering like smoke. Because no matter how tightly I clung to Theo, a part of me still craved the fire that burned me alive. --- Outside, beyond the lamplight spilling from Eliot’s window, Damien lingered. He stood in the shadows across the courtyard, the glow of a cigarette ember briefly illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw. The night air was cool, damp, filled with the faint hum of cicadas—but all Damien felt was the rush still coursing through his veins.

Alone but with a bouquet from my favourite person. By the time I got home, the city was already dusky glow. I balanced the bouquet against my hip while punching in the pin at the door. The lock clicked softly, and I pushed the door open. It was pitch-black inside. I frowned, reaching for the switch. “Weird…” I muttered under my breath, flicking it up until the lights flickered on. My heart almost leapt out of my chest. A tall figure stepped out from behind the wall, broad shoulders outlined against the glow. For a split second, I stumbled back, clutching the bouquet tight until I saw those unmistakable green eyes.

I leaned back against the edge of the bed, the rough wool of the blankets a contrast to the searing heat of his palms. ​The shadows in the room didn't just rise; they sang, a low, vibrating hum that harmonized with the brilliant pulse of his light. As he lowered me onto the pillows, his weight was a grounding, beautiful pressure. The world outside—the mark, the traitor, the looming war—finally flickered and went out. In the dark, there was only the gold of his light, the velvet of my shadows, and the breathless, whispered promises of two people who had finally stopped fighting themselves.

The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha. Damon knight claiming his only precious possession as his. But not as a possession but as his love. His first and last love. Damon fell on her sweaty body as they both ride their pleasure and came to an end. His face was dug deep inside her crook. The effect of drug turned off and his body started to get tired. But his heart still wanted to have her again and again. Moving away he stared at her face as her breathing was calmer than before. She opened her tired eyes and stared in his dark gaze

"Smile." ------------ The ballroom was completely huge and stunning, to say the least. She had never seen anything like that before. Colourful decorations were hung on every spot with no wall, leaving minimal space with no decorations. The lighting wasn't too bright to the point that it burned peoples eyes or too low that they couldn't see a thing. It was perfect enough to set a dancing mode, and it felt very romantic; Harlow could help but be reminded of the moonlight night. Men were in their suits, and women in their chic dresses wandered around excitedly with huge grins contorting their bright faces. Everyone just looked too dazzling.

He just shut the door behind him and began gesturing into the room, his eyes dragging across every inch of her body. Isadora’s body quivered from within, the look in his eyes stirring up something rough and dangerous within her. But she shut it out. Because… she couldn’t be dripping or desiring him again, like he and his brother didn’t fucking ruin her body like she was theirs to greedily ravish. “So, you are into stuff like this?” Damian asked, raising the book that she was reading. It was a dark romance, and the title was enough introduction about what the book contained.