Romance Books Without Spice Novels & Stories

she mocked. " No reservations? " I frowned, looking at her with a confused smile on my face as I realized I had no idea what she was talking about. " Yes, that romance with Catharine Zeta"Jones and Nicholas Palmer. Are you going to tell me that you're the kind of guy who only watches movies with gunshots and explosions? I couldn't help laughing at his phrase, looking away towards the steps. " Actually, I don't usually watch movies, so I don't know this one. " I explained.

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The curly blonde-haired girl, on the other hand, was just confused as she sized me up with her eyes. My eyes were locked on the handsome Alpha prince, so sexy and domineering with his Alpha aura filling the air. He had that bad boy enticing appearance that most ladies would love and his dreamy hazel eyes cute, but right there, I knew he wasn't for me. His eyes were brimming with disgust and anger as they gawked at me even with my mate scent.

It was a promise to love and protect, to cherish and nurture the flame that burned brightly in our hearts. A surge of passion and desire ignited between us. The air crackled with an electric energy, and I could feel the intensity building as our lips drew closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, our mouths met in a searing, passionate kiss. It was a union of souls, a melding of two hearts that beat as one. Our tongues danced in a passionate rhythm, exploring the depths of each other's desires. He bit my lips and sucked my blood from them, grabbing my hair.

He was a beautiful mess. Usually, seeing him like this was enough to set me off. “Nothing,” I muttered. I returned my lips to his. The kiss was rougher this tiime, more aggressive. He moaned as I bit his lower lip and sucked it in my mouth. For some reason, the sound irritated me. How had I never noticed how soft Xavier’s voice was? It was too delicate, too smooth. It was so unlike Adrian’s deep voice. So unlike the way he had sounded when I was pounding into him…

“How chivalrous of you, I didn’t expect for you to pick up a smut book like that to read.” “I presume you have read them too?” “I read them out of curiosity, and it was the love story is what I was more interested in. It had nothing to do with the sex scenes, it was the connection between the two characters that had me read it multiple times.” Why did I just say that to him? I’m an idiot he’s gonna know I am into those sorts of books. But for the reason I said yeah, I enjoy the smut and spice in them but it’s the romance connection that has me wanting to read them.

"You like mysteries?" "Sometimes." "Better than romance novels?" My face heated. Had he seen me looking at that shelf? Had he been watching? "Much better," I said firmly. "Romance novels are... unrealistic." Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement maybe. "Are they?" "Yes. All that instant attraction and forbidden desire and enemies becoming lovers. It doesn't work like that in real life." "Doesn't it?" The way he said it—the slight emphasis, the look in his eyes—made my stomach flip.

Like I’m not just Zoe the nurse, but Zoe, a woman with needs, with heat coiling low in my belly just from the way he looks at me. “Long shift?” His voice is deep, smooth, wrapping around me like a promise. I swallow, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup. “You have no idea.” He steps closer, close enough that I catch the scent of his cologne….something rich and spicy, like cedar and sin. His thigh brushes against mine under the table, just for a second, but it’s enough. My breath hitches. My skin prickles with awareness. “You deserve a break,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. A shiver runs down my spine. “Or maybe something more.”

Disclaimer: This is an erotic story that contains explicit, spicy, and sexual content intended for mature audiences only. If you are under the age of 17 or uncomfortable with adult themes, we kindly advise you not to proceed. However, if you’re of legal age and enjoy such stories, then welcome—and enjoy the experience. Chapter 1

She busied herself with dinner and wiping down the already-spotless kitchen counters, avoiding his gaze. Spencer put Esme to bed and with each passing minute Ellie’s anxiety coiled tighter. She knew he could sense the shift in the atmosphere. Their relationship, though still a secret from the outside world, had developed its own intimate language. He knew her moods, her silences. Just last night, with Esme at Dorothy’s, he had taken her on the living room rug with a slow, devastating intensity that had left her breathless and boneless. Now, the memory felt like a cruel joke. She felt him before she heard him. She didn’t turn around as his footsteps approached. His lips brushed the sensitive