Romantic Dream Short Story Novels & Stories

The dream had transported her to a picturesque garden, bathed in golden sunlight, where she stood, resplendent in a flowing white gown, hand-in-hand with Rogan, her partner and confidant. As Emily tried to reconcile the dream with reality, a mix of emotions swirled within her. A sense of wonder filled her heart, as if the universe had woven a tapestry of fate within the realm of her subconscious. She had always envisioned a future filled with love and companionship, but the dream brought a newfound clarity to her desires.

His voice must me angelic and equals his limitless beauty. I desire the long desired mate bond. The unexplainable love shared by mate. The undying romance. His romantic gestures towards me. I desire everything!. His hot breath heaving over my sensitive neck. He tongue romancing my lips whenever we kiss or s*x.. I desire them all So I really pray he awakens. *** A loud growl pull me off my fantasy. I instantly fall roughly to the ground. My spines smash with a heavy thud. I wince.

The stillness of the morning was broken only by the occasional chirping of birds and the crunch of leaves underfoot. I stood still and closed my eyes as I replayed the dream in my head. It was a dream about Adrian, the fucking love of my life!! The man I always wanted to be with forever. In my dream, we were alone together, and he kissed me lightly, filling me with a sense of love and contentment. It was so romantic and it felt so real. Gosh, I could still feel the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips when I woke up. It was indeed magical and I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as I realized that it was only just a dream. But, I decided not to be bothered one bit be

I lifted my hands to his chest, pressed against the warmth of him, and whispered, “I love you, Ethan. I’ve always—” He quieted me with his lips. A slow, sensual kiss that was full of morning, full of sunlight, full of home. The way he kissed me now wasn’t rushed or needy. It was almost...sacred. The kind of kiss that seeps into your very soul and stays there. I wrapped my arms around him, pressing against him as if I could never get close enough. “I’ve been dreaming of this,” he whispered between kisses. “Of you in my arms like this. No walls. No fear. Just us.”

"We had sex. It was good. Now we move on with our lives." Something about his dismissal made me incredibly angry—and also made me want him more. "So this was just for tonight?" I asked. "What did you think it was?" he asked, turning to look at me. "That I was going to confess my undying love? That you were going to quit your job and become my housewife?" "No," I said, standing and gathering my ruined clothes. "I just thought—" "You don't want romance," he interrupted. "You want exactly what just happened. You want someone who can take control. Someone who can make you forget about being in charge for a few hours."

I fell asleep quickly, joking to myself, “New place, let the groom dream of the bride.” I see Kays—and he is furious. His brows are drawn together, his lips tight, his gaze full of liquid fire, fixed on me. I miss him. I haven’t seen him for less than a week, yet I already miss him so much… The strange thing is, I clearly know this is a dream—that he isn’t really here—so I boldly step closer. He wants to say something, but I reach for him and silence him with a kiss. In a dream, I’m allowed anything… and I shamelessly take advantage of it.

Dream of me. I fall asleep surrounded by roses, the scent of them filling my dreams, thinking about wedding vows and second chances and the terrifying, exhilarating possibility of actually being happy. Of building something that lasts. Of being Maya and Ryan instead of Rossi and Zurri, just for a little while, just long enough to remember that we're human before we're heirs. It's the last peaceful sleep I'll have for a while. But I don't know that yet. In this moment, in this room, in this life that feels borrowed from someone else's fairy tale, I am simply grateful. Simply hopeful. Simply, impossibly, in love.

"So perfect. By the time I’m done preparing you, you're going to take both of us like you were made for it." I smiled against his chest, feeling satisfied and claimed and excited for what was coming. That night, as I lay in my bed alone, the sheets cool against my overheated skin, I dreamed. The dream was vivid—more vivid than any dream I'd ever had. So real that I couldn't tell where consciousness ended and fantasy began. I was in the painting. The one from Dante's studio. The one that had made my core clench with desperate need. I was the woman caught between two men, filled completely, taken thoroughly, claimed absolutely.

I slept for hours. I dreamed about the ice. But in my dream, the ice was made of glass, and beneath it, I could see my father’s face, watching me skate. Every time I tried to stop, I would slip. I would see Jax at the other end of the rink, reaching out for me, but the ice would get longer and longer, keeping us apart. Then the dream changed. I was in the locker room, but it was empty. All the stalls were gone, and the only thing left was Marcus’s lucky hat, sitting in the middle of the floor. I tried to pick it up, but it turned into the USB drive.

He had to work, as he always did, on slowing down and getting the timing correct. After two hours he was satisfied. He tumbled into bed, falling asleep within a minute. His dreams were pleasant, mostly involving a cute girl that kept trying to get away. Every time he dragged her back with the rope around her middle. Sabrina's dreams were pleasant also but highly erotic. She was tied up lying on her side on a table. A stranger kept asking her if she wanted to fuck. When she said no, he approached either her open vagina or open mouth and used them as hard as he could. It felt wonderful but he would always stop before she reached orgasm. After a great number of penetrations, he finally went too