Novel & Cerita Romantic Poetry Books

“Then Damon’s an idiot. Reading is the cheapest form of therapy.” They split up, each wandering an aisle. Mya found herself in the romance section—rows of pastel covers with soft titles. Her hand brushed one spine, then another, until she stopped on a novel about a woman who rebuilt her life after betrayal. The blurb made her chest ache. She added it to her armful without thinking. When she found Trina again, her friend was crouched near the bottom shelf, flipping through a poetry book. “You ever notice how love poems are just heartbreak written before it happens?” Trina said absently.

He forced himself to ask as he trailed wet kisses down the nape of her neck. She rolled her eyes. "Why do you keep spoiling the mood, Ryder?" This time she rolled over, pinning him to the bed and she let her hand guide his prick into her tight hole. Ryder had his eyes shut for a while, this was explicitly satisfying. He had never made love to a woman so he would in the past never be able to describe that scintillating feeling elicited from a romance. When she started to buck against him, he thought he would lose his senses. He was floating on cloud nine and needed as much time not to get lost in the abyss.

“Mind if I read to you, princess of pain?” “Only if you feed me chocolate between stanzas.” He grinned. “Deal.” He sat beside me and opened the book with a kind of reverence that didn’t match his cocky voice. The poems he read weren’t romantic. Not exactly. But they had teeth. Rhythm. Rage. And something underneath it all that felt like devotion, buried deep. I listened with my eyes closed, breathing in the sound of his voice, the scent of tea, the ghost of Luca’s touch, the fading warmth of Nico’s fingers.

He watched her, his gaze steady and unnervingly focused. “Tell me,” he said, breaking the silence she had fallen into. “Why Keats? Of all the poets who have wrestled with illicit yearning, why did you anchor your work to him?” Scarlett hesitated. No one had ever asked her that. “Because it’s raw. It’s not romantic, it’s obsession, the ache that overtakes you, the pain that feels necessary. It mirrors real life, doesn’t it?”

He lowers his lips over my hard bud, and sucks it in and I gasp, then sigh, then arch against his mouth. God, I love that! His tongue gently circles my nipple, and he tries to suck a bit more of my breast into his mouth. Mmmm, check, a beast man, and a rather romantic one, at that. I feel his hand slide down my body and cover my pussy. When his fingers start to stroke my lips I roll my hips and push myself against his hand. He moans as he lets his fingers slip into my slit, which has been wet and waiting for him.

The double penetration, the fullness in my mouth and cunt, the way they moved together, it was intense. I was dripping and soaked and my own arousal leaked down my thighs. Devon pulled out, his cock glistening with my spit. He leaned forward, pushing my dress down to bare my breasts. “Now for these,” he said, and his mouth closed over one nipple, sucking hard as his teeth grazed the sensitive peak. I cried out, the sound muffled against nothing. Hans seized the moment and kissed me. I kissed him back, drawing his lower lip between mine as he bit gently into my upper lip. The sensation doubled. Mitch fucking my cunt, Devon sucking my tits and Hans kissing me.

It will be the second book. Thankyou for supporting me. You can check out my other two books here and also on Dreâme a.pp by A. Gupta, if you're interested in Dark Romance and Anti heroes. @Gupta

HEY GUYS, I'VE DECIDED TO START POSTING LITTLE POEMS WHICH I WROTE DURING THE COURSE OF WRITING THIS STORY. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. ROMANCE What is romance, yeah yeah yeah Where is romance Isn't it here? Is it a knight in shinning armor Can I ever see it? Can I ever experience it? I want my own romance With my most romantic fantasy Filled with dreams that May not come to pass But I can't stop fantasizing

Lana walked down the driveway with measured steps, her heart fracturing further with each one she took. She did not look back, even as the distance grew between them. Some loves burned too brightly, consuming everything in their path without mercy. And some secrets, once heard in the quiet hours, could never be unsaid, echoing eternally in the ruins they left behind. THE END

With each stroke, her hips moved in sync with my touch, craving more of the pleasure I was offering. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she arched her back, surrendering to the sensations that consumed her. Her gasps grew louder, mingling with the rhythm of our bodies moving in unison. The room filled with the intoxicating scent of our desire, a heady mix of sweat and passion. Our hearts beat in harmony, a symphony of love and lust that echoed through the air. With her, nothing else mattered. I was lost with her, and so was she.