Novel Collection Novels & Stories

The next day they did not separate. Debra cancelled her remaining plans. They spent the afternoon and night in her hotel suite. Between rounds of increasingly intense sex they talked about the years apart—the relationships that never measured up, the way both of them carried the unfinished thing. Steven admitted he kept every paper she ever wrote. Debra admitted she still had the copy of the novel he signed for her on graduation day. The emotional vulnerability made the physical connection deeper and more possessive.

Her fingers, skilled and careful, had traced the spines of volumes on law, history, and war before they closed around a simple, unmarked book of vellum. It was not a history. It was a collection of letters, intimate and raw, written by Alphas to their mates across generations. The words were so visceral, so full of longing and possession, that she found herself whispering them aloud, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. “I would have you on your knees before me, not in supplication, but in celebration. I would teach your mouth the shape of my name until you forget all others…” A floorboard creaked behind her

Counter tease, bed tangle hours of desperate fucks, tension's fire consuming. By dawn, spent and cum-wrapped, he whispered against my neck, "Anytime now, Lila. Crush unlocked."

Chapter 1 CYNTHIA'S POV The snow made it all the worse. I should have been happier with the holiday season soon approaching. However, it couldn’t get any worse. I caught my boyfriend, Nicole Smith , with a girl in his senior year, fucking in the locker room. What made it especially appalling was the fact that there were three guys, Nicole included.

“Since we have destroyed Azba, I have no urgent need of him. No large band will appear now till the first grass.” “Is Azba cut to pieces then?” inquired Novoveski. “So cut up that I do not know if twenty-five men escaped; and even those will be caught one by one, if Mellehov has not caught them already.” “I am terribly glad of this,” said Novoveski, “for now it will be possible to go to Rasrkoff? In safety,” here he turned to Basira: “We can take to Sir Rushet the letters which her grace, our benefactress, has mentioned.”

The New York best selling romantic novels were my best companions during my college days. "Mmm...Oh...Mmpphh...UM!" I moaned. It was hard to really say anything verbal with my mouth filled up. I swished his cock inside my cheeks, getting it as deep into my throat as possible while breathing through my nose. I was buried into his lap; his cock completely inside my mouth, his thighs pressed up against my cheeks, my nose in his lap. My eyelashes brushed up against his pubic hair. "This feels good Camila, this feels so fucking good Camila" he mourned softly. I loved that I was really tormenting him. Making him call me by my name

I dropped my essay on the desk, leaning forward so my cleavage pushed up in my low-cut top. “It’s this part about repressed desire in the novel. I wrote how the character wants the older woman so badly she can’t think straight, but society says no. Kinda like real life, right?” My voice came out breathy, my eyes flicking to her mouth, full red lips that I wanted wrapped around my nipple. Elena leaned back, crossing her arms under her chest, pushing those heavy breasts up higher. Her eyes dropped to my top for a second, yeah, she fucking noticed, before meeting mine again.

The weight of the lid held the box closed even though the contents were far too much for the space inside. I tucked the treasures into a box and put them with the other things that would need to go to our new house. I refused to put them in storage and figured I could hide the box once we'd moved in. It seemed devious, but it was a part of me I couldn't let go and couldn't share. Dan wasn't the snooping type, and I knew he'd never rummage through my things when we moved. I'd find a safe place to store it, but for now, it would remain buried amongst my belongings.

It didn't take long to pack my bag. I'd bought more at Walmart than I'd actually brought, and none of that needed to go back to New York. I folded it all and neatly put it into the drawers in my old dresser. It seemed silly since I doubted I'd ever be back to claim any of it, but it belonged here; I didn't.

Why would he keep these? A floorboard creaked behind me. I turned quickly. Kane stood in the doorway. His expression darkened immediately when he saw the box in my hands. “You went through my things.” “You kept these?” He walked toward me slowly. “Put them down.” “No.” “Nova.” “Why do you have pictures of me?” Kane’s jaw clenched hard. I lifted one of the drawings carefully. “You kept this for years?” His silence answered enough. Something inside me softened unexpectedly.