Romance Books Modern Novels & Stories

” I run my tongue along the lacey edge of her panties, a few inches below her belly button. “You’re thinking I couldn’t possibly read smut, and you’re trying to judge yourself against all the super sexy book boyfriends out there. The thing about books is that they give people something to fantasize over. Something they might not want in real life, and that’s what makes it sexy. It’s something to take yourself out of your existential, boring, mundane world for a while and put you somewhere else. Well, I do read romance. I even read erotica. That being said, it’s not real, and I don’t expect it to be. You’re real, and I want to enjoy this. With you. I have no high standards to measure you agai

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I needed to cut her off. "Look, they're doing the walking around the fire thing." She said. I hummed non committal. "I read about it in this book by Drethi Anis. Five thousand nights of obsession. The book was so good." "You read?" I asked. I had never seen any book in her apartment or caught her with a book. "Yes." She blushed, then quietly. "Romance books." "You don't strike me as the romance type." I looked at her intently. "Is it one of those raunchy books with shirtless men carrying scabbards on the cover."

“Because I do. Most of these modern book relationships don’t make sense. They wouldn’t work in real life. He’s toxic and she’s too naive, but hey, their s*x scenes are terrific and at this point, that’s all I’m here for.” I sighed deeply. What was with my mouth lately? I was no longer thinking before speaking. “So I’m guessing you prefer the older romance stories, like Jane Eyre whose man is double her age or Pride and Prejudice who had to marry for wealth or else she would be done for,” he said, looking at me with an amused expression. “Ok. Fair point,” I agreed with him. “But I never said I liked the older romance novels either. I’m an English major and I really believe some of these books

“She’ll probably spend the whole holiday in here if you let her.” I walked the aisles slowly, trailing my fingers over the books. Classics. Thrillers. A whole section of contemporary romance—Mirabel’s doing, mostly. She’d started collecting them in high school, said they were “escapist but smart.” I’d never read them. Too many happy endings. Too much hope wrapped in pretty words. I pulled one down at random. Dark cover, brooding man in a suit, and title written in gold foil: Claimed by the Billionaire. I snorted softly, then slid it back.

I wrote them to create stories that came to my mind, characters with a life of their own and feel that I wanted you to feel when you read each one of my words, the fact that my first book on spanish POR SIEMPRE TUYA ( I BELONG TO YOU FOREVER) , was read by 164,100 readers in spanish and 22,500 in english, the second ETERNAMENTE MIA ( ENDLESSLY MINE) 52,000 readers in spanish and 4,100 in english, then INFINITAMNETE NUESTRA (INFINITELY OURS) only 2 weeks after I have 1,100 readers in spanish and 255 in english. I have no words to thank you but THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to each and every one of you who have given me the gift of your time and money to read them

“It sounds… like it should be yours, only yours. ‘Mon amour.’ My love.” I blushed, my heart pounding in my chest. “You know I don’t speak French.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Then I will teach you… one kiss at a time.” I laughed, a trembling, delicate sound. He pulled me into his arms, holding me so close I could feel the strength of his desire, the depth of his longing that he had never released. His fingers drifted over my skin, tracing patterns I had never known I knew. Every caress was a poem. Every caress was a confession.

Her whimpers and moans were filling his ears with unexplainable pleasure. Damon: Ughh princess I l-love you so much. He whispered near her lips increasing his pace and slamming himself more hard and fast in her making her body to tremble under him. They both felt the ecstasy of the moment. That time there was no mafia king or an innocent possession but instead, there was only a husband making love to his wife. The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha.

For just a second, I caught a glimpse of pain flickering across his face before it vanished behind his usual icy facade. "The wedding's next month," he said. "Nora needs a bridesmaid." Nora Hunter. The girl who had shown up out of the blue three months ago, 20 and all sunshine with her blonde hair and blue eyes, clueless about the shadows in the world. Francis had welcomed her into the mansion, showered her with jewels, and paraded her around at every high-society event. Francis kept whispering sweet nothings to me, even as he was gearing up to marry someone else.

“Show me how much you need me to stay.” Roman lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing and carried me to the bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and stripped fast, his cock already hard and pointing straight up, veins throbbing along the shaft. I yanked my dress off and spread my legs wide, showing him how wet my pussy was, slick dripping down to my ass. “Look what you do to me. Even when I’m mad I want this cock destroying me.” Roman climbed over me and shoved two fingers into my cunt straight. I gasped and arched, my walls squeezing around them.