Romance In Paris Novels & Stories

COLLEGE ROMANCE Written by: Authoress Ricky 🦋 Chapter Fifteen 🦋 My eye were close shut but after I didn't get any kiss from him, I open my eye and saw him staring at him. "What were you thinking" he use his finger to wipe the ice cream on my lips and lick it before he poke my nose making me squeak. "That hurt" I said rubbing my nose. "You are really dirty minded" he teased and I roll my eye and step away from him angrily. "Don't be mad at me you, weren't actually expecting me to kiss you"a smirk form on his lips and I knew he was playing me.

“Even though you have short legs and small hands.” “Thank you.” I said blushing, while he picked me up and took me to the nearest mirror. Now it is more natural for me to look at myself in a mirror, and even more so when the person behind me is Dr. Mark. “You look so beautiful.” He repeats once again in my ears. Now he licks this one a little, while I hold my hands on his hips, while I turn around, leaving my reflection behind. This time I kiss him, placing my hands on his chin while he lets me touch him. So my tongue and his come together as one. I don't believe in fairy tales, but I feel like a princess and he is a prince who loves me, and he tells me how beautiful I am. I feel like we are

without waiting for an answer he brushed past me. “Woah, Where are you headed?” “Paris, to break a man's legs” “Oh lord! Damien stop!” I yelled jumping in front of him. “Nothing is going on between the both of us, we just met for business” “In a romantic city?” He asked, jealousy creeping into his voice. “He lives there, Damien; where else would we meet? Besides it was just a question, I do not have a Lover” “So you want one then?” I chuckle “What?”

"True. Paris does most of the heavy lifting in the romance department." The word "romance" hung awkwardly between us for a moment. Thomas cleared his throat. "Mia, enjoy your night.." "Thank you, Thomas. You too."I said. The elevator arrived with a soft chime. "Goodnight, Thomas." "Goodnight, Mia." In my suite, I changed quickly into comfortable pajamas, the elegant green dress carefully hung for packing tomorrow. As I completed my bedtime routine, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

She didn't want to stress about anything, not now, when their baby was on the way. "We haven't gone out for a while, we need to get out of this stressful environment, where would you like to go?" "Where we first met, the City of Love, Paris." Rafael's eyes sparkled with delight as he gazed at Eva. "Paris, the City of Love," he repeated, his voice filled with nostalgia. "Where we first met, where our love story began." Eva's heart fluttered as she remembered the Paris. The charming cafes, the moonlit Seine River, the Eiffel Tower's iron lacework... it was all so magical.

My apartment—and even the bakery—felt brighter with them around. Bella, of course, wanted to know every detail of my life in Paris. "So wait," she said one morning over coffee, curled up on the couch with Zanele like they were lifelong besties. "You live in this dreamy apartment AND you work in a magical bakery AND your roommate is a hot professor who rides a motorcycle? Vienna. This is literally a French rom-com." Zanele cackled. "Girl, I told you. It’s like Emily in Paris, but with better pastries and less cringe."

Three days left. I sat at my vanity, staring at my reflection. Long black hair, perfect makeup, the diamond necklace Clarence gave me… all of it so perfect, so false. My phone buzzed again. Another photo from Seraphina in Paris, this one of her in Clarence’s arms in front of the Eiffel Tower. “He said only the romance of Paris is worthy of me. This is more exciting to him than any of your anniversaries.” I ignored it and contacted my advisor at the vampire bank.

A sharp bell rang out, echoing through the night. A shrill voice announced, "The time has come. Let the bride enter!" A black carriage, lavishly decorated yet unsettling, rolled in slowly. The door opened, and a bride in a blood-stained wedding dress stepped out gracefully. "Where's my groom?" George hurried over, waving for the puppets to drag me away. He pointed at the players seated at a long table. "My lady, please take a look. Which one do you favor?" The bride lifted her veil. Blood slid down her face like melting wax. Her crimson eyes swept across the crowd. "I'm not satisfied with any of them. Not a single one looks pleasing."

My best friend liked it instantly. [Congrats, Director Thornton. Welcome to freedom!] I was promoted to the position of finance director in my company. I bought my own home, and I had a cat. After everything I had been through, I finally understood that loving myself was where lifelong romance would truly begin.

I mused,"You two met at a bar? At night?" "Meh, they drink wine anytime in Paris, but that's not the point," Caira remarked. "I was in this restaurant and I ordered a mismatched order but then this guy sitting next to me says that I was ordering the wrong combo and that I would enjoy it better with another dish and that's how we got to talking. And then he ordered wine and we got to talking and flirting and the next thing I know is that he was pounding into me, my back against the wall and he was whispering dirty nothings into my ear in none other than the most romantic language of the world -- French. That thing continued for as long as I stayed in Paris. They have the stamina of a horse, I