Romantic Novels Free Read Novels & Stories

In a war-torn world, Noura is desperate to escape the clutches of a dangerous warlord who wants to force her to marry him. Her only hope lies in Khalid, a man driven by a promise to protect her to her father. But as they journey across dangerous lands, Noura begins to question everything she knows about loyalty, trust, and the man who saved her. With every step, the lines blur between protector and captor, and Noura must face the terrifying truth about Khalid's obsession—and her own feelings. Will she find freedom, or will she be trapped in a bond darker than the war she's fleeing?

She can’t stop thinking about him. The way he smiles, the way he moves, the little gestures that make her heart race—he’s everywhere in her mind. Every glance, every passing moment, sparks a daydream she can’t resist. Obsessed with My Neighbor is a tantalizing collection of romantic fantasies and obsessive thoughts, told through the eyes of a woman captivated by the man next door. Each chapter is a different moment, a different craving, a different intimate daydream that blurs the line between reality and imagination. From stolen glances in the hallway to imagined conversations and tender touches, this collection explores the delicious tension of forbidden attraction, the thrill of longing, and the heat of desire, all without crossing into explicit sexual acts. Get ready to be drawn into a world of obsession, romance, and irresistible temptation. One chapter at a time.

"My professor gave me my first D. Now my next assignment is due...in nine months. You know when you meet your new professor, and he ends up being the same man you had a one-night stand with three months ago? Okay, maybe not. Let me explain. I hadn’t intended to sleep with my professor. I might be known as the impulsive, prankster daughter in my family, but I’m not insane. I just wanted to have some fun in Ireland at my sister’s wedding, and maybe lose my virginity, too. When I met Lochlann Gallagher at a pub one night, I couldn’t resist him. He was hot, Irish, and entirely set on seducing me. One unforgettable night under the sheets with him, and my V-card went up in smoke. Well, that night had one itty bitty consequence because Lochlann totally made my eggo preggo. And if this story isn’t crazy enough, Lochlann is not just my baby daddy: he’s now my professor and my advisor for grad school. Somehow we have to figure out a way not to reveal this rapidly gestating secret while resisting the explosive attraction between us. Except there’s just one more complication to this story: I think I’m totally falling for my baby daddy. Oopsie daisy."

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

Anomalies were descending on the world when I got thrown into a horror dungeon. The problem? I was a hopeless romantic. An even bigger problem? The dungeon’s final boss turned out to be more of a lovesick idiot than I was. The moment he saw me, he practically begged to be my personal simp.. Me: Wait… we’re doing that already? The barrage of comments exploded: “Look at him. The mighty final boss is willing to be the third wheel.” “Sorry, sweetie, but our girl already has two anomalies in line. Even if he’s the boss, he still has to take a number.”

As I casually opened the online forum, a trending post at the top caught my eye. [Share the wildest thing you’ve ever done.] I clicked on the second comment, which seemed to contain just one line. [Without a doubt, it was the night before my buddy’s wedding when I had his wife come over for a “quality check.”] However, the poster kept adding to the thread. [That night, the woman tricked that idiot into thinking it was a bachelorette party, but she actually spent the whole night at my place. [She said she didn’t want to sleep with just one man forever and needed one last wild night before tying the knot. [By the end of the night, her throat was nearly raw from all the screaming. [We kept going until sunrise, right there in the wedding car her husband was supposed to pick her up later that day.] [Not only that, but even after they got married, this fool kept bringing his wife over to my place for dinner. [He’d help me in the kitchen while I pinned his wife against the fridge and kissed her. [He’d be glued to the game in the living room while his wife knelt in the bathroom and took care of me. [One time, when he passed out drunk on my couch, his wife and I had our own fun on the carpet beside him. [Every time he rolled over, we’d both jump. It was the thrill of knowing we could get caught at any moment.] The image loaded, revealing the familiar interior of the wedding car. The lucky charm I had given my wife dangled from the rearview mirror. My fingers momentarily stiffened, and I nearly dropped my phone. A wave of nausea rolled in my stomach as a chill crept up my spine. Just then, a hand appeared in my field of vision, waving in front of me. “Calvin, what are you zoning out for? You’re at my place, and you’re still on your phone. Come on. Dig in while it’s hot.” Wyatt Preston, my friend, grinned at me. Yet, his eyes kept straying toward my wife, Queenie Jennings, who was sitting beside me.

The day before our wedding, my husband gives me a sapphire ring. I place a hand on my slightly bulging belly. As I lie on the operating table, I call him and tell him I want to call the wedding off. Shortly after, his secretary calls me tearfully. "I was the one who was impudent enough to select the ring, ma'am. Please don't blame Mr. Nolan for this. It's all my fault." Archer Nolan holds her in his arms and coaxes her gently for a long time. He only says one thing to me. "You're already carrying my child. Can you really bear to leave me?"

To celebrate our third wedding anniversary, I get us a dinner reservation and prepare a gift for her, complete with a handwritten love letter. But my wife, Teresa Sloan, doesn't show up. Meanwhile, while attending the welcome-back party for her first love, Carlton Unger, she walks around on his arm with a radiant smile on her face. Someone asks her who I am. She replies, "No one worth mentioning." From that day onward, I stop waiting around for her. Sometime later, she comes crying to me, saying, "I love you, Silas." I tell her, "It's too late."

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.