Open Door Vs Closed Door Romance Novels & Stories

When the doors closed, she let out a shaky breath, already aching. Room 1423. She knocked softly. The door opened almost immediately. Dominic pulled her inside, slamming it shut and pressing her against it in one fluid motion. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. Hands roamed—cupping her ass, sliding up her thighs, discovering her lack of underwear with a deep, approving groan.

"As you said. There is nothing…" I kissed him again. Then the door swung open. I broke away sharply. Roman stood in the doorway, red roses in hand, his eyes moving slowly from my face to Damien's. "Damien Douglas." Roman said coldly. "Roman Douglas." Damien said even colder. I looked between them. Their eyes locked on each other like two men who shared. Wait ..’Douglas? The same name. The same blood? "What the hell are you doing here?" Damien's voice was low. Dangerously low.

His hands slipped into my oversized shirt and cupped my round erect breast. We devoured each other's mouths. Just as we got our clothes off and continued smooching and romancing each other. Then— Bang! The bedroom door flew open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Both of us turned sharply toward the entrance.

He just reached out, hooked his fingers into the hood of my sweater, and drew me toward the open door. He closed the door behind us quietly, then turned and was on me immediately. There were no words or pretense as his mouth claimed mine in a rush. Roman kissed me like he needed to prove something to himself more than to me. It felt like he needed to know I was there, and I was real. I froze at first, then I answered because my body answered for me. His hands moved over my back, then slid to my waist like he was holding on to keep from falling. He pushed me back against a bookshelf, old leather books pressing into my shoulders.

“Then you walk out, we reopen the door, and tomorrow we pretend the last five minutes were an operational discussion about risk matrices.” The choice sat between us heavier than the files on the desk. I looked at the man who had once watched me across a dinner table while his son held my hand, who now held final approval over my work, who was currently touching my face with the door closed and the city glittering behind him like it had no opinion. I stayed in the chair. Roman’s expression shifted by a fraction — acceptance, or hunger, or the final release of the restraint he had been maintaining since the email. His thumb stroked once along my jaw. Then he leaned down and kissed me.

I can smell the fear layering over the arousal like smoke over a fire. “Knox, the door–” “I know.” I left it cracked – four inches of gap between the frame and the wood that lets the hallway light cut across the concrete floor in a stripe that ends at her feet. The crack is unnecessary because every wolf in this building could hear us through six inches of solid concrete, but the visual of the open door is the point because an open door means CHOICE and the choice to be heard is more erotic than the inevitability of it.

Roman knocked harder. She pressed her forehead against the cool porcelain and closed her eyes. The images of the bodies leaving the mansion wouldn't leave. “For my own selfish reason I…” "Evelyn." Roman's voice was quieter now. "I'm going to break the door if you don't open it." She heard the warning in his tone. She reached up, fumbled with the lock, and pulled the door open. He was standing right there, with a pale face “Roman, I…” He immediately pulled her into a hug.

I had the door open before he reached it. We didn’t speak at first. He stepped inside, locked the deadbolt, and had me against the wall of the entryway with his mouth on mine and his hand already down the front of my leggings. I was soaked. Two of his fingers pushed into me and I moaned into the kiss. Roman worked me like that until my knees weakened, then pulled his hand free and led me upstairs to the marital bed. He stripped me completely and then himself. I lay back against the pillows that still carried a faint trace of David’s cologne and opened my legs.

Then she slipped out, the door closing quietly behind her. I stood there a long while, staring at the closed door, a slow smile spreading across my face. But then, the door swung open again, and she rushed in, locking the door behind her. I remained standing, unable to speak, as her actions startled me. Suddenly, she lunged at me, pulling my shirt as I leaned towards her, and our lips met again.

Door 4 Jasmine and Damon ripped into theirs next. “I keep keys though I have no door, my face is blank, but I watch your floor.” Damon squinted. “Piano keys?” Jasmine groaned. “That doesn’t even make sense.” But the door swung open anyway. They exchanged a look, shrugged, and jumped in celebration before being escorted back. Door 1