Romance Short Stories Novels & Stories

She didn’t like the way her thoughts were going, but they wouldn’t stop. Let’s face it, it’s got all the classic ingredients of a holiday fling. Exotic setting, two adults who fancy each other, and opportunity. And what happens to holiday romances once you get on the plane ? The knock at the door sounded like bombs dropping. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Guy.’ She walked on eggshells to the door. He was all fresh, showered and smelling of shaving things. He wore a white polo shirt that made him look like an advertisement for suntan lotion.

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

Love is never an easy thing. The beautiful tale of a princess and a prince living happily ever after is nothing more than a bedtime story. In reality, it's not as simple as expressing one's feelings and everything falling into place with joy. No, it's never that easy. Velia and Lucas have proven that. They were bound by a past that constantly tried to separate them. Resentment was deeply rooted in their hearts, ingrained in every breath they took, intertwining with their journey through life.

There were racks of clothes. My father was standing by the window, talking into a phone. He looked at me and pointed to a chair. "Sit. We don't have much time." I sat. A woman with a headset walked over to me. "I'm Abby from the PR team. We need to move fast. The morning news cycle starts in six hours. We need the “Proof of Romance” package ready by then." "Proof of romance?" I asked. My voice felt dry. "Chloe is in the dressing room," Abby said, ignoring my question. "She’s ready. We’re going to do three sets of photos. One casual, one semi formal, and one official.”

“My perfect muse. My future wife.” I kissed him deeply, tasting salt from my tears and the promise of forever on his lips. I had come here as an unpublished writer desperate for guidance. Instead, Damien Cross had turned me into the heroine of the most beautiful, filthy, real love story I had ever lived. And the best chapters were only just beginning.

she whispered, her voice barely audible. Liam looked at the photograph, then at the shelves full of Eleanor's books. He thought of his own story, a love that had ended too soon. “Maybe ,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “Some stories just end. But maybe… maybe we find other stories to live in.” Isabella’s breath hitched. She tightened her grip on his hand. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she confessed. The words struck Liam like a physical blow. He froze, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him, shock, fear, and an undeniable flicker of desire. He pulled his hand away, his body recoiling instinctively.

No matter what, but this can make Gwen angry everytime and still she haven't found if it was true or not. ........... Please ignore any mistakes as I write stories in my phone. Next story, A strange love story. Some of you have read it but don't worry as from 1 Oct I will update all new stories and I will also be open for your suggestions. Tell me what kind of story do you want, CEO, mafia, werewolf or other. Tell me in review section. ..................

Conversation flowed: her daughter’s latest drawings, his work stresses, shared laughter over bad restaurant stories. But underneath it all ran a current of tension. Every glance lingered. Every accidental brush of hands while clearing plates sent sparks racing. When the plates were cleared and they moved to the wide leather couch with fresh glasses of wine, the air grew thicker. Alex set his glass down and turned toward her. “I meant what I said about going slow,” he murmured. “But if you want this… I want you, Elena. All of you.” She looked at him—really looked. The desire in his eyes mirrored her own sleepless nights. Rules be damned. She leaned in and kissed him.

25 March 1820 Rome, Italy Jacob was lounging on a chair and Mrs. Valentina Lombardi, the most sought after courtesan in Rome was sprawled on his lap, her lush body pressed to his as she tried to coax a reaction out of him. He knew all the other men watching him envied him. But for the life of him, he couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the act. Instead of finding her perfume enticing, he found it cloying. The smoke from the cigars made him feel suffocated.

Paige questioned, "Why aren’t you saying anything? Is it because the woman who admired you is now with someone else, and you're feeling uneasy? Isn't that how it's portrayed in TV dramas? When a woman pursues you relentlessly, you find it annoying. When she finally turns to someone else, you feel uncomfortable. "In reality, you've long grown accustomed to her pursuit, unwittingly falling in love with her. It's just that you never realize your feelings until she's gone. This is a classic case of not appreciating what you have until it's lost." "This is why it’s best you avoid those cheesy romance dramas," Chris casually remarked. "They lack substance and only lead to overthinking. Whatnots wi