Romantic Dream Short Story Novels & Stories

"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

“Sorry. Boyfriend.” Dream’s fingers pinched my side so hard my vision blurred. I winced but kept smiling. His uncle adjusted his tie and gave me a once-over. “So, where did you two meet?” “Oh, you know,” I said quickly, “coffee spilled, eyes met, caffeine and destiny collided. Very romantic. He glared at me like he wanted to commit a crime, and I thought, wow, this is the man of my dreams. Or nightmares. It’s complicated.” Aunt Diamond blinked. Uncle Sniff looked lost.

The remnants of the movie, a light romantic comedy, lingered in her dreams, twisting into a vivid scenario where she and Deimon were the protagonists. In her dream, they were on a sun-drenched beach, the sound of crashing waves filling the air. Laughter danced on their lips as they chased each other through the shallows, the cool water washing away the day's stress. A stolen glance, a playful touch – the dream Deimon delicately built on screen became a tangible reality within her subconscious.

He wants to feed fatty water with his own mouth. How romantic! If a man can care for me like this, I will give him everything I have. I try to hold my breath to keep silent. I want to watch more. Although I will not enjoy romance, since I am Cody is pathetic slave, I still want to see others happy. The romantic stories I watch with my own eyes may become the main story I dream of at night.

“Really, who is your mate, Your Highness? I’m so curious about the woman who make you dream like that.” Rohan smirked. “Someone so f#cking adorable. But you know, last night’s dream was a little weird.” “Weird how?” ‘The dream felt physically real. I can feel the aftertaste of touching her on the tips of my fingers. I can also see the face of a woman that I have never seen before, the woman who that foolish king kiss under a cherry tree.’ Rohan ruffled his wet hair. “Anyway, is there any other way to appease my pride?”