Romance Novel Sex Novelas e Histórias

"Necessary. Not romantic. Not..." "Romance is for people who aren't being hunted by a psychopath." I traced patterns on his skin. "We get...survival sex. War sex. The 'we might die tomorrow so let's feel alive today' sex." "I can live with that." He kissed my temple. "As long as I get to keep having it." "Keep me alive and you will." "Deal." We showered together. Another round against the tile wall. Quieter this time. More....tender.

"Yes, finger me while you ream my hole." Sweat dripped down our bodies, the room smelling of sex and effort. His pace quickened, grunts animalistic. "Gonna fill this arse—take my cum." I clenched around him, my own climax crashing, pussy squirting onto his hand as he roared, cock pulsing, hot seed spurting inside me. We collapsed onto the mat, panting, his cum leaking from my arse. "That was... intense," he said, chuckling breathlessly.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Your husband probably thinks you're too old for this. Bet he's never seen you this soaked. Never heard the way you moan when someone else is in control.” He was right. So fucking right. I had never gotten this wet for my husband. I do get wet, though, but not dripping like this. It was because he never did foreplay. He just went straight into sex, and I hated it, because I loved being touched the way Nikolai was touching me right now.

Author's Note: This book contains a scene written in vivid detail that showcases a passionate and loving encounter between two people of the same gender. It reveals a different side of their relationship and explores the complexities of a same sex relationship in all its beauty. For those who may be curious to learn more about the different aspects of love, this scene offers a unique opportunity to gain insight. While those seeking something more traditional may not find the content appropriate, readers who are interested in diving into the depths of this kind of relationship are invited to delve further.

I break off, flushing with heat. His eyes darken. "Sex scene?" My throat tightens, making it impossible to swallow. "I was going to say it." He leans back, resting his hands behind his head. "I suppose your right, but don't you ever read it and want them to just get to it already, that it's obvious they want each other." "Didn't know you read romance." My accusatory tone makes him smile. The thought of Hale laying in his bed with this particular book open, reading through the graphic scene makes my toes curl.

I pull my cardigan tighter around me, trying not to look like a woman unraveling on her fourth glass of wine. “I don’t write sex, Chloe. I write romance without all the detailed intimacy, I write about repressed trauma, losing a loved one, mystery, horror even not two people who’ve never met each other dirty talking and moan— oh God.” She takes my wine glass and replaces it with her full one. “Exactly. You’ve built an empire off tragedy. I think your readers are ready to read something based on actual pleasure or erotic tension.” “Ew. Who even reads things like that?”

Damien flipped us, pinning me beneath him and thrusting with controlled power, his hand over my mouth to muffle my whimpers. When he came, he buried his face in my neck, groaning softly as he filled me once more. We lay tangled together afterward, breathing heavy, his cum leaking out between my thighs. “Tomorrow’s going to be torture,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “Having to act normal while knowing how good your forbidden pussy feels wrapped around my cock.” I smiled in the darkness, already planning how we could sneak more moments. The risk only made me want him more. And with several days left in the holiday, I knew we wouldn’t be able to stop.

Even though I love thrillers, romantic things like that are surely every woman’s dream, right? “You and your husband are the same,” Mariyam joked. “Me?” I chuckled softly. “I don’t know, maybe.” I wasn’t even sure how to answer. What if the romance they meant was different from the romance Miron meant? When my body experienced an orgasm, it was thanks to Miron’s punishment. Then, he gave me a pasca-sex treatment that probably no other woman would ever get. Isn’t that a form of romance? Like dark romance? “Aren’t you and Sir Miron going on dates like that on a cruise ship, too?” Mariyam’s tone sounded certain.

I stared at him gently and yet softly. “I owe you big time,” I said subtly. He looked at me while asking me why. “It’s because you make me feel fucking good, just like a woman should!” “Give me more of your goddamn pussy, boo!” he requested while I spread my legs wider. And wider! And wider! And wider! Just until my pussy dripped of water and I couldn’t take it any longer. Romance never had to be about sex; it was just about two souls, two hemispheres, who would come together to be one.

In fact it was getting pretty obvious that I could do more than spank it to her, she was giving some pretty clear signals. As I sat up and clicked save on my latest Miss Ross driven story it occurred to me that I probably should get something going with Kim and give up on my stupid fantasies. I'd been watching and writing too much p**n lately. I minimized the screen on "Special" and stared at the next document which was my goofy vampire story for the group. As I read the uninspiring words I realized it could be a decent story if I tossed some hot sex in there. I doubted that Miss Ross would appreciate that though. I grinned as I thought that in any scenario I could envision she would not onl