Romantic Stories To Read Online Novels & Stories

They clung together, grasping at each other and pressing closer and closer together. Soon their hands and mouths began to explore every curve of each others bodies. "I promised you dessert." Olivia whispered as her dress was slid off and dropped to the floor. "You can have vanilla cake, mango juice, icecream or... me..." "No contest!" he replied, smiling wickedly as he slowly slid her panties down her legs. "You have given me my just dessert and now you're going to get yours." Caspian said and dug his head into her breasts. "Happy anniversary, Husband."

I told him I wasn’t the one begging for distance every time things got real. The motherfucker left the next morning after we fucked for two hours straight and I still wasn’t satisfied. Trust me, the hours weren’t the problem—I just couldn’t get enough of it. He didn't grind my pussy as much as I'd fantasized it. He barely even touched the surface. What a waste! My fourth boyfriend didn’t even give an explanation. He just stopped replying to my messages after a night he called “perfect.” That night barely even beat what my hands could do for themselves. How could he call that ‘perfect’?

Anna kept licking me through every wave until I was shaking and oversensitive, almost whimpering. She uncuffed one wrist, rolled us, and pulled me on top of her so our wet cunts pressed together. She gripped my ass hard and forced the friction, our clits sliding with every deep grind of our hips. We moved against each other, kissing messily, until I came a third time, grinding down, and she followed with a low broken sound against my neck. Anna traced a slow line down my stomach, her fingers still shiny with me. “You’re still going to write the story, aren’t you?”

I sank into the worn velvet armchair tucked between the stacks, the one customers sometimes used to read a chapter before buying. I opened the book. The first story was about a librarian and a stranger who came in after hours. I laughed under my breath. Too on the nose. But I kept reading. The words were lush, explicit. The stranger’s hands on her thighs, the way he whispered commands against her ear, the slow build of tension until she begged. My pulse quickened. Heat pooled low in my belly. I glanced around—the shop was empty, windows dark, street noise muffled by snow. I was alone.

Colette sat on her face, riding Claire’s mouth, thrusting her hips, forcing Claire to take all of her, to taste every inch of her. Claire didn't complain…she groaned into the muffling warmth, her tongue working overtime, her hands clutching Colette’s hips, anchoring herself to the storm. Colette was moaning, grabbing her own breasts, her nails digging into her chest as the finish line approached. Her body was rigid, her nerves humming, the pleasure so sharp it felt like a blade. She was right on the precipice, the world shrinking down to the heat of Claire’s tongue, the friction, the desperate, unholy connection…

Definitely not trying to seduce just the steam sticking to the mirror, the accidental press of bodies in the tight space, the forbidden pull of best friend's brother coming into my house. His eyes went down to my lips, which were open in a gasp, and then down to the very quick breathing of my chest, the nipples of my breasts through the fabric being stretched. "Lila..." His voice roughened, free hand twitching at his side, fighting the pull. Mine mirrored, rising to his chest to push? Or steady? The touch lingered, feeling his heart thunder under my palm. The seduction bloomed unintentional: humidity making my skin glow, his drunk haze blurring lines, our the steam.

“Cas and I have been on for a month now, and I should’ve told you but you specifically said you didn’t know about my other fuck buddies.” Cas stood near the window, arms folded, watching me intently. “We didn’t want you to find out like this, though.” I could feel both their gazes on my body—the way the dress clung to my curves, the flush on my cheeks. “A whole month,” I whispered, voice husky despite myself. “You really are something Damien.” Damien stepped closer. “Baby, I love Caspian and I love you.” His voice dropped, that dominant tone I craved. “It’d only ever be the both of you for me.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. The order was degrading, obscene. And it set a fire in my belly. I leaned forward, closing the distance. The first touch of my tongue to the cool, wet wood was salt and bitterness and him. I moaned, the sound involuntary, vibrating against the desk. I licked a slow, deliberate stripe through the spill, gathering it into my mouth. The act was so submissive, so filthy, that it coiled heat low in my core. I could feel Jonathan’s seed trickling from inside me, a parallel intimacy.

More… specific. I read romance novels and decided the first step to getting his attention was to make him see me as something other than Jane’s little friend. I started wearing shorter skirts when I knew I’d see him. Tighter tops. I’d pull my hair up to expose my neck, mimicking gestures I’d seen in movies. But he never gave me a second glance. Not until I went for the nuclear option. Last night, I sent him photos. Not just any photos. Explicit ones. Carefully angled, lit by the dim lamp in my dorm room, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent them to his private email, the one I’d memorized from seeing it on paperwork years ago.

Then there's the one about star-crossed lovers, two innocent people who love each other deeply but at the end of everything their relationship is still doomed to fail just like Lancelot and Guinevere in King Arthur's mystical tale Round Table, Heathcliff and Catherine from Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, and Lyla and Majnun from the classic love story Nizami Ganjavi. Jakob says I have my head in too much fantasy, but I can't help but wonder... I heard car honks from a distance, then I heard the sound of a vehicle driving closer, it was probably my mom, I thought to myself. Right now I was home alone with Topaz, everyone else was basically at the back to school party grinding and making out