Mc Romance Novels & Stories

Slowly, I open my eyes, and they connect with those of a raging alpha. Roman. Marco is lying by my side with his head at an unusual angle. He is dead. “This isn’t funny!” I snap, and his shoulders shake as he releases a chuckle. "Oh, but it is darling. The problem is that you are too slow and sloppy, and your moves are easily predictable. I haven’t even laid a finger at you, and you are already falling on your ass,” he cautions, and I bow my head in shame.

Charlotte stroked Marco's hair calmly as he tried to control his breathing. She hadn't imagined her first time with him would be so intense. She had imagined many times that it would be a romantic night, after all Marco was romantic as far as she remembered. This Marco now seemed to be anything but a lover of romance. But it hadn't been bad, on the contrary, it was delicious and as much as she had dreamed of something different, she wouldn't trade it for what really happened.

In Argentina, the love between Emiliano Romero, and Maria De La Cruz, bloomed like the September equinox. They finished their weekend, full of energy, and many revolutionized hormones. She was in love with his intelligence, when they talked about medicine she loved to listen to him, she was impressed by so much knowledge. He was falling in love with the simplicity of her soul, her heart and her longing for history.

“You have given me a gift beyond measure, Mia. Not only your blood, but your unwavering trust and unconditional love. I am forever grateful for your presence in my immortal life.” I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of my blood. “And I am grateful for you, Jonathan. You’ve shown me a world of passion and devotion that I never thought possible. Drinking my blood is just another way for us to explore the depths of our connection.” As our lips parted, we sat there, locked in a moment of shared understanding and love.

“This is preposterous! The Bratva are not allowed in No-man’s-land!” Luciano Russo exclaimed as he brought his fist down on the table. Dimitri gave him a stern look. “That was to keep the peace. I think The Red Witch and her puppets have done more than just break the truce. It is shattered.” Dimitri answered flatly, to which Luciano sat down, pondering what Dimitri had just said. His eyes moved to the older brother, who was nodding. “I agree. Mia broke the decree set up so many years ago the minute she brought Amy onto Marino land. Dimitri has a right to retribution. Blood for blood.” Antonio Russo spoke up. Dimitri looked at the man who was once his love rival. He expected Antonio to try an

--- A velvet curtain separated the private booths from the rest of the club Inside one of them, Samuel lounged like he owned the space while Leya sat beside him, close enough that he could smell her perfume — jasmine layered over something darker, something warm. “You’re new” he said, already reaching for her. She caught his hand gently, her fingers wrapping around his wrist but Her touch wasn’t harsh, but it froze him “And you,” she murmured, “are Samuel Blackwood.” He blinked, a confused crease forming in his brow, “I didn’t tell you that.” “You didn’t need to,” she said, smiling “Men like you always make yourselves known.” If he had been sober, maybe he would’ve recognized the danger wrap

“They're all dead.” “Are you a cop?” My breath rasped in my throat. “Who are you?” “Marco Vitale.” He said coolly. His eyes remained on me like he wanted to catch my genuine reaction. “Like…you mean…the Black Requiem? The infamous Italian mob boss—Marco Vitale?” He grunted a deep approving sound from his throat. “You're well informed.”

Damian turned around. The moment his cold blue eyes locked with Ruby's wide green ones, a spark of immediate, undeniable attraction ignited, followed by a simultaneous jolt of shock and recognition for both of them.

"What do I need to do, sir?" His expression grew even darker. "Are you in for this bet?" "I'll leave it to your discretion," I answered. That response seemed to infuriate him. I could see his grip on his wine glass tighten, his knuckles turning white. "Fine, let's bet." The cards were dealt, and the game was on. I did not get the rules of the game, but the vibe? That I could read like an open book. Everyone was as still as statues, barely breathing.

Sliding behind the steering wheel, I wait for Julia to climb in, and watch Cole and his team pile into their SUV. As I steer us out of the basement, I pick up Julia’s hand and press a kiss to her skin, then place it on my thigh. “I want Grammy,” Andrei shouts. “Ten minutes, my boy,” I murmur. This is our life now. Kids. Family. Date nights. Sex at midnight before one of the kids wakes up. Running the mafia. Stopping at a red light, I look at my wife. “I love you, baby.” “And me,” Andrei chuckles.