Romantic Graphic Novels & Stories

The tattoo had been left to heal, and remaining true to the promise I made him, I hadn’t looked at it; no matter how much I was itching to. Gulping, I closed my eyes as he gently peeled off the plaster. “This is my way of claiming you, Rose,” he said and kissed the exposed skin of my shoulder. He removed the bandage, and I slowly opened my eyes. On their own accord, my hands came up and covered my mouth as a gasp escaped my lips when I saw the beautiful drawing that had taken over the hideous scar. It was a motorcycle lost to time and consumed but a wildflower bush. The vines wrapped the metal in their embrace, and big red roses bloomed around it, claiming it. Right next to it lay a huge gra

She walked around his bed touching his things, "I see a change in you, Rayven. You don't know, I became excited when I saw the red dot in your heart." "Of course. Now that I feel things a little more, you can enjoy punishing me even more." She chuckled. "You really think I am your enemy. Nevermind." She turned to him. "You should think of how to make your heart beat if you want it back. Now that there is little color, if you allow yourself, that red dot will paint the rest of your heart red. And then it will sing the most beautiful song." The thought seemed to excite her.

"You know, my hunger is gone. All I want to do now is return to Eclipse Howl and wait for midnight. I want to prove to you that we are meant to be, holy goddess, I want to mark you so badly. Loriann ..." In an instant, Romero is around the table, pulling me out of the chair. I am now in his arms and he is showering my face with feather-light kisses. His hot breath nearly burns my skin. My lips covetously search his, what he has just given me is like tasting a drug. I need more, I need him. But he refuses me, denying me the purest sweetness I need now before the clock strikes twelve. Every time I try to capture his lips with mine, he kisses the corners of my mouth, leaving me wanting more.

His gaze held a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, a sentiment he seldom revealed. As she continued to dress his wounds, the room seemed to shrink, narrowing down to the unspoken connection between them. Raina, in your writing, delves into the complexities of their romance. The physical act of dressing wounds serves as a metaphor for the healing they find in each other amid the chaos of their lives. Let the readers feel the emotional nuances, the uncharted territory of love in the shadows.

"But I'm curious, what does romance mean to you?" Max leaned in closer to Chloe, his voice low and husky, as he whispered softly into her ear, "Romance is like the changing sky at dusk, with colors shifting and blending together to create something new and beautiful each time. It's like the dance of fireflies on a warm summer evening, a dazzling display that takes your breath away.” His words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying with them the promise of something sweet and special. Chloe felt her heart skip a beat, and a shiver ran down her spine like a gentle breeze on a summer day, as she turned away to hide the reddened flush on her cheeks.

Grace says softly, grinning as she sets a gift bag between us on the sofa. For a moment I can’t move. Her smile lights her face, lights the whole room, and it’s so achingly beautiful, I want to bask in every second of it. “You didn’t have to do that.” Frowning, Grace waves a hand at me, dismissing the sentiment. “Just open it.” Unconsciously, she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth in eager anticipation. The effect on me is instantaneous and powerful, heaping a fierce sexual desire onto the romantic infatuation I’ve been secretly nursing since I moved in. Images flash into my head, crashing about and against each other.

The sudden movement sent another surge of warmth through her, feeding the growing intensity between them. “More,” he begged, his voice cracking with need. The sound wrapped around her like praise. She pressed her mouth to his skin again, letting her lips linger, exploring the texture beneath them, and a possessive thought slipped quietly into her mind. If she marked him, if she left evidence of herself on his body, then some part of him would remain hers even when he moved through the world beyond the house.

She then looked at him leaned in for kiss it felt like it lasted long but it was just for a few seconds “Do you like it” he asked looking at her as she blushed then he dragged her and kissed her again Dating Mateo felt like living inside a painting. He took her to hidden cafés. To quiet beaches outside the city. To late-night music performances. Sometimes he would sketch her while she talked. “Stop moving,” he said once. “I’m not moving.” “You’re breathing too loudly.” She laughed. “You’re impossible.” “And yet you like me.” He couldn’t deny that.

' It’s kind of embarrassing, but he means well. I laughed again, this time harder. I could imagine Toby, holding a pink sign in the middle of a crowd. I went back to the forum and saw a new post. It was a photo of the Hockey Rink. Someone had hung a giant banner over the front entrance. It said: **"LIAM & JAX: THE FIRST LINE OF OUR HEARTS."** "Oh man," I said, shaking my head. "That's so cheesy." But even though it was cheesy, it was beautiful.

The nurses must have thought I was still unconscious, because they made no effort to keep their voices down. "He's that famous guy, isn't he? The groom whose wedding got postponed nine times?" "That's him. It was all over the news. I don't know what he's holding on for. The bride obviously doesn't love him." "They traded sighs for a moment, and then one of them suddenly pointed across the hall, her voice rising with excitement. "Look over there. That's the Prescott heiress with some guy at the pharmacy counter, and she's fussing over him like he's made of glass."