Romance Novel Review Websites Novels & Stories

The fact I was about to live out my long yearned fantasy… or the fact that it was with strangers that didn’t bother with names. I was naked. A sharp breath sliced the air…from who? I wasn’t sure “You’re so sexy,”Mr Cinnamon whispered in my ear. He smelt like cinnamon,hence the name. Cinnamon, green eyes, brown hair…strangers yet I had a feeling I would never forget these strangers for the rest of my life. Every doubt I might have harbored vanished the second I felt cinnamon’s fingers graze my folds. “And you’re so wet..” his breath was heavier

he groaned, gripping my hips as he started pounding. Each thrust slammed deep, balls slapping my clit, the desk creaking under us. I could feel every inch, every vein dragging along my walls. “Harder,” I gasped. “Fuck me like you mean it. Own this pussy.” Roman snarled and gave it to me, hips snapping faster, one hand reaching around to rub my clit while the other fisted my hair. “Like this? You love taking my cock at work, don’t you? Greedy little slut for your boss.”

She drops onto the couch opposite him, legs folding beneath her. “What’re you reading?” He lifts the book slightly. The Collected Stories of Nabokov. “Jesus,” she says, grinning. “You never change.” His eyes narrow faintly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “I don’t know. Depends on how you were to begin with.” “Grace,” he says, her name like a warning—but there’s amusement too, buried under the low timber of his voice. “Are you trying to provoke me already?”

Then, as I scrolled further, a suggestion caught my eye: "Read romance novels to understand what love looks like in action." It sounded ridiculous, but desperation overrode pride. I clicked onto a bookstore website and began scrolling through its romance section. The titles and covers differed-some sweet, others fiery-but they all promised the same thing: a vision of what love might look like. I put a stack of them into my cart, trying to block out that nagging little voice inside my head, which questioned what I was doing. As I finished placing the order, I caught my reflection in the screen. Garrett Cullen, crime lord, feared by most, now rummaging through romance novels for answers. The t

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

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.