Romance Excerpts Novels & Stories

I reveled in the warmth of his mouth as I shoved my tongue inside, his tongue sliding wetly against mine. He gave as good as he got. Xavier was really good with his mouth after all. Yet, for some reason, tonight felt different. And it was pissing me off. I wrenched my mouth away from his with a scowl. “What’s wrong?” Xavier panted, his eyebrows furrowed. His lips were a little swollen, his eyes dark with desire. His hair stuck up in some areas, where it was mussed up by my hands. He was a beautiful mess.

Romeo handed his hand--handed his pinky to Rena. Romeo? It was like hearing the names of fairy tale characters, Romeo and Juliet. Rena smiled in response. The smile she wanted most for herself. Moreover, Rena's eyes will disappear if those lips are sunken. "Rena. Rena Schaaci. You can call me that, Mr. Romeo." "Rena," Romeo muttered. Will our love story start here? Is this what they call falling in love a second time? Especially when the pinkies of the two are intertwined with each other.

“What are you? A slam book? How can you love yourself when you don’t even recognize love itself?” Romance never goes out of style. It does not wither or die like plants in a glimpse of summer. We fall into its captivating curse the moment we find perfection in a soul filled with flaws. The second we see beauty in the laceration of their scars and lips maneuvered by deception, we are bound to plunge into the deepest fragment of their life. The day our heart palpitates at a rapid velocity is the day we chain ourselves to an immeasurable misery.

"Since the day you chose that dress, Roman. Since the day you looked at me and didn't see a ghost." The kiss was a collision of teeth and tongue. It tasted of smoke and victory. In the confined, swaying space of the speeding car, the world felt small and frantic. Roman’s hands moved with a feverish intensity, stripping away the remnants of her blazer, his mouth finding the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.

He ate me like a man starved, tongue thrusting inside me, lapping up our combined essence with filthy enthusiasm. “Yes, Alexander... just like that,” I panted, grinding against his face. Romance wove through the raw passion; he looked up at me with dark, adoring eyes, as if worshipping every reaction. Another climax hit me hard, my body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over me. I flooded his mouth, but he kept licking, prolonging the high until I was a whimpering mess.

Florence supported him and edged him to keep on working hard. Ryan smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude. "Thank you," he said. "You're pretty inspiring yourself." Over the next few days, Ryan and Florence spent every spare moment together. They explored the city, visiting famous landmarks like the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. They wandered along the Seine, watching the street performers and artists. They even took a day trip to the Palace of Versailles, where they got lost in the stunning gardens and fountains. As they spent more time together, Ryan found himself falling deeply in love with Florence. She was smart and funny, with a quick wit and a beautiful smile. She was also incredibly tal

Kalix's growls of pleasure and Audrey's moans of delight echo in the room, a testament to the depth of their shared passion. As they gaze into each other's eyes, their connection deepens, their love blossoming in the midst of their shared ecstasy. The unspoken language of their shared gaze conveys a deep understanding and a mutual longing that transcends words, binding them together in a moment of pure intimacy and connection. In this moment, they are lost in each other, their love shining bright and true as they revel in the beauty of their shared romance.

the movie echoed. “Your kisses feel like vocalnic eruptions on my lips” he whispered to her ears. “Your caresses feel like furrows burying in deeply until I'm shivering”. “Yesss Nate,” the girl in the movie moaned. “Fuck me harder,” she responded. Belle had always been a die hard romantic. And even though she never admits it, she was a lover girl. Just as she kept watching her movie whilst she enjoyed feeling the wind in her hair and face, she suddenly heard a loud, yet familiar voice screaming at her.

He turned slightly so our knees overlapped, a subtle enclosure, and lifted my hand, examining the faint scar near my wrist from an earlier incident weeks ago. “You never told me how that healed,” he said. “It healed because you didn’t let it worsen.” “That’s not the same.” “It is to me.” He pressed a slow kiss to the inside of my wrist, right over the scar, not sensual, not playful, reverent. My breath hitched anyway. “That,” I whispered, “was unfairly effective.” “Good.” “You’re learning romance.” “I study what matters.” Silence returned, warm, full, shared. The kind where words would reduce instead of add.

It was a night of pure ecstasy, where the outside world faded away, leaving only the two of us immersed in a sea of pleasure. In the aftermath, as we lay entangled in each other's embrace, I couldn't help but smile. This was just the beginning of our passionate love story, a journey that would be filled with countless more intense and romantic moments. As the sun began to set, casting a soft golden glow through the curtains, we lay there, basking in the afterglow of our passionate time. Our bodies intertwined, we exchanged lazy kisses and whispered sweet nothings. "Elliana," Max said, his voice filled with a mix of contentment and awe. "I can't believe how incredible this few minutes of our