Popular Black Romance Novels Novels & Stories

I was most put out. He ran his fingers over the black stockings, to the creamy skin at their tops. ‘That was before I knew how wicked you could really be.’ ‘But I think I’m wickeder in black,’ she giggled. ‘Black silk is wickeder than cream, don’t you think?’ ‘You could be wicked in a bin-liner.’ He ran his hand over her hair, and down over the back of her neck to where he knew just how to get that erogenous zone going. ‘But wicked in silk is special.’

Shadow raised her head to smell it, her big brown eyes curious, but upon finding it to be nothing other than frustrating ideas, she resettled. It had seemed so easy at first glance. Audrey and Ray had fallen in love once; I knew they could do it again. I had buzzed through my shift, sprinted home, and hopped on the computer for research. Fast forward two hours and I had no results. Everything I found was either too complex or too reminiscent of “The Parent Trap”. I had no idea how to get these two people to fall in love, let alone how to get them in the same room. My balloon of hope and excitement was quickly deflating, reality a slow leak sinking it. My phone chimed, and the noise startled

She knew that Liam meant every word he said, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that this was only the beginning of a long and dangerous battle. "Fuck me, Liam. Fuck me until you forget about him." As Penelope and Liam's passion for each other intensifies, they begin to undress, their hands moving quickly to remove each other's clothing. Penelope's fingers shake as she unzips her dress and lets it fall to the floor, revealing her lacy lingerie underneath. Liam's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of her, and he quickly sheds his own clothes. They stand before each other, their bodies bare, the love and desire they feel for each other clear in their eyes. They embrace, their

To save face, I tell Jameson, “The film really wasn’t a romance. Infidelity and no happy ending are big no-nos in the romance genre. Yet, it did have strong romantic undertones that were—” “Nikki.” He gives sort of a low, half-snort as he returns the hankie to his pocket before hitching my chin with his crooked finger. “Never, ever have I said, since the auction, that you can’t express feelings.” I hold a gape in check. He’s caught me completely off guard. Even more so as his expression softens. “I do want to know you,” he avers. “Not just your sexual preferences, but you as a person, outside my office doors.”

I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a

Sophia's POV "What the fuck are you talking about?! Twenty years ago I wasn't even born! Are you crazy?!" I snapped angrily. "I am talking about my body, Sophia," Callan said, his tone turning smooth, deep, and deadly serious. "For twenty years, my sex life has been an absolute curse. Every woman I have ever touched, every woman I have ever tried to take to bed ended up screaming in pain, passing out from the unbearable discomfort, or bleeding so heavily I had to rush them to private surgeons. Do you have any idea what that does to a man?"

⚠️🔞 TRIGGER WARNINGS (DARK ROMANCE): ⚠️🔞 This is a DARK ROMANCE book with heavy, raw, and non-traditional themes. It contains highly sensitive content that some readers may find uncomfortable, triggering, or disturbing. This includes, but is not limited to: Domestic abuse and physical violence Forced marriage and extreme possessiveness Non-consensual/forced sexual situations and breeding themes Explicit sexual content (18+) Very strong language and toxic dynamics

In one smooth motion he lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist automatically. He turned and pressed my back against the wall hard enough to knock a picture frame crooked. The new position put the hard ridge of his erection right against the place where I needed friction most and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding down against him. “Fuck,” Nathan groaned against my mouth, and the raw need in his voice sent another wave of heat through me. His hips thrust up to meet mine and the friction made stars burst behind my closed eyelids. We were still fully clothed but it felt so good I thought I might actually come just from this, just from grinding against him like teenagers.

The robe slid from my shoulders with a whisper and pooled at my feet, leaving me bare beneath his hungry gaze. “You just didn’t see me,” I whispered, pulling him into another heated kiss, unwilling to let a single second slip away. His lips claimed mine with urgency. He sucked gently on my lower lip while I nipped at his upper, parting for him. Our tongues tangled, hot and reckless, igniting sparks that raced through my veins. His hand slid firmly around my waist, drawing me flush against his body until there was no space left between us. The kiss deepened, consuming, as if neither of us could get enough.

His hand found my cock. “Names on purpose now,” Ash murmured. “Dangerous little thing.” I rode. I said Rook when I wanted the deep grind. I said Ash when I wanted the hand and the mouth on my neck. I used them like they’d used the count. It made Rook’s grip bruise my hips. It made Ash bite the old mark and groan like he was losing. Choosing was its own heat. Worse than being arranged on a mattress, because every drop of my hips was a vote I would have to remember. My thighs burned. Slick ran down Rook and onto the bed. I kept going until the anger and the want were the same motion.