Romantasy For Adults Novels & Stories

If I could meet him again, I will gladly let him rocked his hips against mine. It wasn't my first wild night, frankly, it was one of the many nights I spent going to the club. But it was the first time ever I had sex with a stranger in a club's restroom. I definitely would feel ashamed if I ever get to meet him again, but I wouldn't be ashamed if I get to meet him at the club again. But anywhere else would be a complete disaster, he wouldn't know I was totally heartbroken that night. I don't regret the sex, if I have another chance I would do it over a million more times.

His ways of showering his undivine love will be much different from the general love stories we read. Those who have read my other books know how mysterious my stories could be. The story is completely my work, written by me all alone. Hence, the copyrights are reserved. Do not Copy my work. TRIGGER WARNING The story is a dark romance, hence it is meant for adult audience as it contains mature content. Kindly, read further only if you are 18+ or just skip the chapters with mature content warning. Thank You

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Kristian’s men did not dismount from their horses they stayed where they were as Kristian faced off with Tammy’s mates. “You will hand over what is mine and you will do it without hindrance or I will take what is mine by force.” “Tammy will not go anywhere she is our mate” “She belongs to me and me alone, not to play whore to the likes of you” Tammy stepped around her mates to stand in between them and Kristian as she looked him dead in the eye before addressing him. “They are my mates Kristian as I have told you before, we are mated and happy just leave us and don’t look for me again.”

He grinned impishly and pulled on my panties, tossing them on top of my shorts. I lay bare in the moonlight, ready for his touch. He put his thumb against my clit again, slowly starting his circles. A gentle finger parted my folds and navigated toward my opening. With wonderful slowness, he pushed it inside, and the slowly out again. I arched my hips, begging him silently to fill me again. He rocked his fingers in and out, his thumb never stopping its slow circles. My entire being began to quake, desire and pleasure threatening to overwhelm me. Bliss rolled through me like a wave crashing into the shore. For a glorious moment, I was floating on a sea of joy and sensation; colors washed throu

Her reply wasn't what I sought for and she knew she failed me so she wasn't surprised when I angrily rose to my feet, heading to my room as tears brimmed my eyes and dropped freely. It all seemed hopeless. The Red Bone Pack were not normal wolves; they were lycans, a special breed created by dark magic. The witches of East Coven had made the first one, a mindless beast whose sole purpose was to protect them from their enemies. When the beast had gone rogue, he had attacked a wolf pack and had been captured, its blood extracted to be experimented on. Their Alpha had tested its blood on several wolves, creating a new breed of demonic wolves. Although they looked like wolves, their transformati

I smiled, wallowing in those same fantasies that had only haunted me. For a year, since I turned 18, I had been daydreaming about the day we would meet our mate and how I would get struck by his manly pheromones, which would capture every part of my being and pull us towards each other. How he would hold my hands, stare into my eyes passionately, and tell me my suffering is over.

She felt like a child who had wondered into an R rated movie. "Our employees are all chosen for their exceptional physical traits. All the men are at least six feet tall, all are younger than thirty, and all are-" Here Mrs. Hartley hesitated, making Emma look up. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she held her hands a little over a foot apart. "-well endowed," she finished. "The ladies are also chosen carefully," she continued. "They are all well-toned and have a bra size of at least DD. A dozen ladies are available for fantasy play, as well as more than twenty males."

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.

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