Romantic Fantasy Books Novels & Stories

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.

Comment your thoughts too, please. My Other Books . . The Alpha’s Christmas Present – A Dark Werewolf Romance. . . That Royal Betrothal – A Royal Romantic Adventure story . . . Badboy and Our Wrong Love - A Highschool Love Story

Connect with me online at: www.autumndawnbooks.com http://authorautumndawn.blogspot.com Bibliography: Spark Series: When Sparks Fly Dorchester No Words Alone Dorchester Solar Flare Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance: Hemlock & Iron Indie books: Dark Lands Series in order: The Charmer Dark Lands: Homecoming Scent of Danger The Golden Bell Ghost in Her Heart Beast Wars Dark Lovers (G.Bell & Homecoming combo) Dark Warriors (Ghost IH & Beast Wars combo)

Chapter 3 I stood in the centre of all the books in the library, my fingers trembling as I flipped through another ancient history book, the pages brittle under my touch. The ink bled in places, the words looked smudged with how old they looked, but the message was clear…royalty must marry royalty. Always. Without exception.

Where they surrendered the part of themselves even war could not scorch: softness. She had never believed them. Those stories were remnants of older times, when dragons ruled openly and magic threaded through the bones of the world. Silly things. Fairy tales. But standing here—surrounded by gold and heat and the scent of Rhazien—she knew this was real. This wasn’t legend. It was declaration. And he had made it for her.

Fancy handwriting on expensive paper. "To educate you on your new archetype." What the hell? I looked at all the books again. And it hit me. These were all stories about girls who got taken. Girls who fell for their captors. Beauty trapped in the Beast's castle. Jane Eyre with creepy Rochester. Christine with the Phantom. He thinks I'm going to fall in love with him. He actually thinks this is some kind of love story. "You're insane!" I yelled throwing the book across the floor. "I'm not a character in your sick fantasy!"

I slipped my hand inside my panties and touched myself directly, gasping at how wet and slippery I had become. I imagined him pushing me gently against his desk, lifting my skirt, and sliding his hand between my legs. In my fantasy, his fingers were veiny and muscular as they explored me, rubbing my clit and then pushing slowly inside me. “Oh…” I whispered, my hips rocking against my own hand. I pushed one finger inside myself, then two, pumping them slowly while my thumb continued rubbing my clit. The fantasy became more vivid. I saw Mr. Blackwood unbuckling his belt, pulling out his thick cock, and rubbing the head against my virgin entrance.

He takes my wrist, his grip firm and possessive and drags me toward the master suite, basically flying up the stairs. The moment the bedroom door slams shut behind us, the air thickens, charged with something electric. The room is all dark wood and deep crimson, the bed a monstrous thing draped in black silk, the curtains drawn tight against the windows. Rhysand doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. His hands are on me before I can draw another breath, spinning me, pressing me back against the door. “Last chance,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below my ear.

I shivered the moments the words left his mouth, my gaped pussy clenching. “I need you to fuck your boyfriend how you would want him to fuck you” he said easily but my body tensed, not because he had said something wrong but because he literally said my fantasy. He wrapped a hand around my neck gently in a show of dominance and whispered, “I could read your nasty thoughts as you stood in the doorway earlier” he casually said but a shiver ran down my spine as he straightened.

It is undoubtedly old, and the spine is now gradually falling. "It's my favorite classic romance novel. Although I was looking for a classic fantasy book here, that one attracted my eye." "I'm not a big fan of romance—" She cut me off, "I'm the same way! Fantasy is my favorite genre. But don't worry, because once you read it, you won't have any regrets, and you'll even thank Sierra McCarthy for recommending such a treasure to you!," She exclaimed, winking at me.