Romans & histoires Romance With A Twist

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."

The young woman sitting by me stopped her game and watched me rant in astonishment. When I ran out of angry words, she clapped her hands in succession, and it echoed in the silence. "Well said, Princess, but I think someone lied to you, just like they lied to some of them over there," she said, pointing to a point in the room's corner. "Over there in the blue dress is Princess Kit of the Blue Brook Pack. She was given away as an alliance gift to the Lycan King and found herself as a slave here the very next day. Following her is Princess Yvette from the distant pack region of the werecats. She was told that she was to be matched with the Lycan Prince. She has not gotten over the deceit that

She answered making me look at her, it sounded like she was starting to believe that this was something different. "Really?" I asked making her nod "I'd still be careful. I'm not about to tell you what you can and can't do but if you really think this is right then just trust your instinct. But be aware. This isn't some usual high school romance. This is Jason McCann" After about another 2 hours of finally finishing the awkward conversation about my encounters with Jason and then our attempts on studying but it turning in to a jam session of her attempting to twerk, it was now dark out and we were both drained.

It wasn’t gentle. It was years of anger and betrayal, twisted up with desperate need and reckless, reckless want. Dominic’s hands gripped my hips, lifting me onto the glass table, scattering papers and photographs everywhere. I gasped as the cold surface kissed my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat burning between us. His mouth moved over mine with ruthless precision, claiming, devouring. I kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every fractured emotion into it—every broken vow, every twisted desire.

“Oh. Oh no. You really have not had sex, have you?” “I already told you no!” I protested. “We have not,” Andre said curtly. “I see.” Roman sloshed his drink around in the glass. “Well then. Shall we return to discussing A Court of Thorns and Roses? I have opinions on the book’s views on feminism.” “Why would you think we had sex?” I asked. “Because of the wording of the contract,” Roman replied simply. “Joemar told me you discovered the loophole. And, to be quite frank, you and Andre have appeared quite fond of one-another since I returned today.”

She exuded the aura of a woman in control- as if she hadn't just weathered a heartbreak a month ago. As if she hadn't just signed a contract to publicly date someone for the sake of revenge. Damien emerged alongside her, decked out in a midnight-blue suit that matched the storm brewing in his eyes. Without a glance in her direction, his hand instinctively reached for hers, and their fingers intertwined. The crowd erupted into a buzz of excitement. "Mr. Cole! Is this your new girlfriend?" "Miss Vale, any comment on the engagement rumor?" Stopping briefly, Damien adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and responded smoothly,

I pulled him toward me and crashed my mouth against his. It wasn't a soft kiss. It wasn't a movie kiss. It was messy, desperate, and full of all the anger and confusion we had been carrying since the day we became roommates. It tasted like salt and heat. It felt like a fight. Jax made a low sound in his throat: half a groan, half a growl and slammed me back against the tiled wall. The cold tile hit my back, but I didn't care because his body was warm, pressing against me, pinning me there. His hands moved from my arms to my waist, gripping me so hard I knew there would be marks tomorrow.

Trigger Warning Hello Lovely Readers, This book may contain content that might be triggering for some. It is a dark romance with degradation, BDSM that doesn’t contain consent within the dynamic (I know, not something I typically have in my book). There are many instances where consent is very dubious and there is kidnapping. Because what fun is writing dark romance without hitting those tropes? I will add to anyone worried, this one does have a HEA because I’m a sucker for that happily ever after and I couldn’t imagine not giving Cass her happy ending.

I tried a different approach and tried to slow the kiss down, to eventually stop whatever she wanted in the first place. I felt the tip of her tongue swiping against my bottom lip, asking to enter. She wanted to go french. Ignore it, and kiss her softer… Everything about Lara Jane lingered in my atmosphere wherever I seemed to go, furthering my certainty that not only my wolf...but my soul knew that Lara Daisy-Jane Mikaelson was it for me. Lara is it for me and Octavia wouldn’t ever be. Lara's coconut aroma would fill my senses at spontaneous moments of the day and night, magnifying my longing for her presence.

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.