Online Romance Short Stories Novels & Stories

How? Mating was very different from marriage. It was a bond that, once made was almost impossible to break. It connected two hearts and two souls so deeply they almost became one. Demons didn't make hasty decisions when choosing someone to mate with, especially if they wanted to mate with a human. They needed to trust the person enough to bring them into their world. When a demon found the woman or man they liked their heightened senses would imprint that person's face, voice, touch and scent into their mind. That way they would know when they found the person they loved and wanted to be mated to.

His eyes flashed darkly for a moment. He then lifted his head again. His face was full of tenderness as he softly said, "Ana, there's nothing more important in this world than you. You haven't answered me yet. Will you be my girlfriend?" One hand held red roses, the other an extravagant and sparkling pink diamond necklace, like a dual guarantee representing love and future. This was beyond anything that was written in romance novels. The young ladies in the coffee shop were excited, their faces flushed. Seeing this, they couldn't help but cheer in low voices, "Say yes, say yes!"

THE END🥳❤️ THE END OF BURNING PASSION 🥳❤️ Thank you for reading and supporting this novel, if you enjoyed this erotic collection then it’s a must to read my second book “SINFUL DESIRES”, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Sinful Desires are short short stories , so just sit back and enjoy a short blissful erotic stories THANK YOU AGAIN❤️!!

Also, if you’d like to read a sneak peek of my next werewolf romance fantasy collection, just scroll down. Your very tired and poor writer, Nymeria Yennefer Roisin ###### Sneak Peek at my upcoming werewolf fantasy stories collection, There’s an Alpha in my Bed: An Affair of Roses Dying is less complicated than loving. I learned that the hard way. “But Prince Gerome...we’re engaged, right?” My voice broke into a sob. “We’ve been together for five years. The Northern Fae and the Red Dragons have been in alliance for centuries, and our union will make our two kingdoms stronger. Breaking our engagement could result in war!”

she whispered, her voice barely audible. Liam looked at the photograph, then at the shelves full of Eleanor's books. He thought of his own story, a love that had ended too soon. “Maybe ,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “Some stories just end. But maybe… maybe we find other stories to live in.” Isabella’s breath hitched. She tightened her grip on his hand. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she confessed. The words struck Liam like a physical blow. He froze, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him, shock, fear, and an undeniable flicker of desire. He pulled his hand away, his body recoiling instinctively.

"You want a puppet who'll nod and smile. However, now the puppet's strings are cut, and you're freaking out." Francis' expression turned icy. "I'm not freaking out." "Then why switch my meds?" I asked, a challenge. "You're terrified. Terrified that without those drugs, I'll realize I don't love…" His response was to kiss me, a fierce, angry kiss. I fought back, but he held me by the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He had bitten my lip. It was a kiss unlike any other in the ten years I had known him, fueled by both lust and a need to punish.

Months slipped by like smoke. Winter came and went, then spring bled into summer, but nothing changed between them. The apartment stayed the same size—too small for secrets—but the heat between Lena and Kai only grew thicker, heavier, more constant. They didn’t date. They didn’t fight. They just fucked. A lot. Often. Whenever the urge hit, which was basically always.

Elena The clock on the mantle ticked with a rhythmic, mocking precision. Two years. Seven hundred and thirty days of sharing a bed with a man who was as much a predator as he was a husband. When the contract was signed, I told myself it was just business-a merger of two powerful families. But hearts are treacherous things. I had fallen in love with Dominic, a man whose hands were often stained with blood and whose knuckles were perpetually bruised from the "negotiations" he never spoke of.

The world was alive in ways I’d never known: the heartbeat of a deer fifty yards away, the rustle of leaves like thunder, the thrill of pursuit. When we reached a hidden waterfall pool, he shifted back—human, laughing, pulling me with him. We tumbled into the water—naked, laughing, kissing. He lifted me against the smooth rock wall, legs wrapping around his waist. “No condom,” I gasped. “Don’t need one,” he growled. “The bond protects us. You’re mine.” He thrust in deep, perfect. I cried out—wolf and woman both. We moved together, hard, fast, desperate. Water cascading over us. His fangs grazed my scar. Mine grazed his shoulder.

The cliffside mansion rose like something out of a dark romance novel, all glass and stone overlooking the crashing waves. I arrived at exactly 11 PM, my heart hammering as I clutched my portfolio. My name is Nova Ellis — twenty-four, unpublished romance writer with a drawer full of very spicy manuscripts I’d never shown anyone. Damien Cross opened the door himself. At thirty-six, he was even more striking in person — tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones, tousled dark hair, and piercing steel-gray eyes that seemed to strip me bare with one look.