Russian Romance Novels & Stories

Luciano murmured, his voice rough with frustration. "It's always like this," Rosa said, biting her lip as she pulled her hand back, trying not to smile at his dramatic complaint. "Come on, baby. We need to be quick before our little devil wakes up again," Luciano whispered, nipping lightly at her ear. Rosa sucked in a breath. “You are unbelievable." "I am yours, amore mio," he husked. Her cheeks flushed at the reminder. It still amazed her how, with each passing day, he seemed to grow more and more romantic.

I lie, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. He laughs, the vibrant sound echoing in the empty basement, while his fingers slide down my arms along a path they know well. "Lying to me again, solnishko" — the Russian nickname sounds like a secret between us. "Don't call me that," I protest without conviction, my body already leaning toward his. "Why not?" His lips find my ear in a light kiss. "You're my sun even on the darkest nights." His touch is like coming home. When he pulls me against his chest, it's with a reverence that steals my breath. His lips find mine with possession.

Russell looked innocent, "This book was written quite well." Chelsea ignored him with a black face. Russell succeeded in his plan and was very happy. While flipping through the book, he said, "There were many more ideas here. Take a look and see which one you like. Next time, I'll use that." Chelsea held back for a moment, but couldn't help it, "Following instructions in a book, where’s romance in that?" "There are some as well," Russell said, "I think page 49 is quite romantic, take a look."

When he kissed me, he did it with such passion that it sent shivers down my spine and sparked a yearning within of me that I had been trying to stifle. For a fleeting instant, it was as if the world around us had completely disappeared, and the two of us were the only inhabitants of our very own unique universe. I had the impression that he may push things farther, and a small part of me hoped that he would. However, he eventually pulled away, his stare remaining fixed on my lips as he did so. Russo spoke in a tone that was low and filled with remorse as he continued, "I have work to do." It is recommended that you get some rest.

Rurik strides quickly into the room, ignoring me like I'm a wilting plant in the corner. It's not my business, and I shouldn't care, but I wonder what he and Mikhail have been saying about me. Rurik walks over to Larissa and kisses her cheek. A kiss that makes her light up with love. She speaks softly to him in Russian, and he laughs at her comment, kissing her again on the lips. It makes me feel odd to see this cold-hearted man treat anyone sweetly. I'm not a bad person, but when he turns to leave, Rurik scowls at me.

Ash hums, “Probably Russian, because of our family ties there, we speak it with Carlotta all the time.” She nods, “But written?” He furrows his brow, “It’s been a while, but it’s hard to unlearn.” She types something on her phone and holds it up to him. He reads it, and grins. In flawless Russian it read: ‘I enjoyed it when I sucked your cocks earlier.’. Gods, she had a filthy mind. He licks his lips and smiles at her, “Me too.” She smirks, and switches to a muscovite accent, again flawless.

threatened Rena. "Jade, you want to sleep with me, right?" Romeo's head was dizzy. The perverted wolf rebelled because his lover tempted him. "Until when?" sighed Romeo resignedly. "Until we return to Germany." "No! That's not called a honeymoon. Honeymoon, we have to have sex so that we are happy. Channeling all the passionate desires!" Romeo's correction. "It's not a honeymoon, but a full moon. You feel how it feels." Rena didn't care about Romeo, who had gone to great lengths to persuade her to return.

I smiled, pressed another kiss on her lips and braced myself on my elbows as I pulled my hips back and thrust inside her again, slowly. For the first time in my life I made love. “How do you say my life and heart belong to you in Russian?” I faltered, and my lisichka smiled as she cupped my cheeks and her thumb brushed my bottom lip in a gesture so loving I will forever remember. “Because it does.” Then, she kissed me. Her tongue thrusting inside my mouth, claiming me and making me hers as much as I made her mine. “Moya zhizn’ I serdtse,” I pulled back and slid into her, thrusting deeper as I moved my hips. Her lips parted and I growled into her open mouth, “prinadlezhat tebe.” [My heart and

It was a priority fo her. Despite everything, she still had the Russian habit in her, since she was in Russia, she had hung around a lot of Russian women, whom were truly beautiful. They took high regard to their appearance, they were always so polished and she admired them. They had taught her many things and the main thing she learnt was to take care of her appearance first and foremost, because whoever told you that people would not judge a book by its cover is lying.

“Russian men are brutal, yes, but they love the mothers of their children more than anything in the world.” I glanced down, my fingers playing with the hem of my dress as I struggled with the pressure of her words. Even if she was right—even if Damien could give me a safe, comfortable future—I didn’t want that. I didn’t want comfort. I wanted fire. I wanted Dante. I wanted the man who’d owned my heart long before he ever touched my skin. “He told me you’re getting married,” I said softly, shifting the topic to give myself room to breathe. “Is it... a Russian man too? You never really said anything.”