Smutty Romance Novels & Stories

I gripped it with both hands, feeling the hot, veiny length throb against my palms, and spat a thick glob of saliva right onto the swollen head, watching it drip down the shaft like lube for the filth about to go down. Maddox groaned deep, a sound that vibrated through me, and muttered, “Good boy, take it like the slut you are.” I wrapped my lips around the tip first, tasting his salty pre-cum mixing with my spit, the musky flavor making my own cock twitch in my jeans. He was huge, stretching my mouth wide as I slid down further, inch by inch, my tongue swirling around the ridges, teasing that sensitive underside while I fought not to gag.

Olivia started, raising her own hand, but before she could finish the threat, Liam walked closer to where we were. His presence seemed to fill the hallway, drawing attention away from the drama and toward him. The crowd shifted and parted, giving him a clear path. I could smell his cologne even from a few feet away, that familiar scent that had surrounded me all night and morning. "There's nothing wrong with reading romance novels with a little smut," Liam said, his voice carrying clearly over the noise of the crowd. I hadn't even noticed him pick up my book from where it had fallen, but there it was in his hand, looking small against his long fingers. "If you have a problem with it, it's no

She stayed on her hands and knees, head hung, his cum and her milk dripping onto the sheets she shared with her husband. Matt turned his head on the pillow and looked at Dominic's peaceful, sleeping profile, then at the wreck of his sister beside him. He reached out, ran a finger through the wetness on the small of her back, and brought it to his mouth, sucking it clean as his eyes held hers. He held her gaze as he pulled his wet finger from his mouth, extending it toward her lips, glistening with their mixed salt and sweetness. “Taste.”

"Open the door." I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. "Give me a minute, hubby." "You have been there twenty minutes," he said. A shadow blocked the light under the frame. He was leaning his forehead against the wood. "Your scent is spiking, baby. It tastes like copper and burnt sugar out here. Let me in."

If that was how he wanted to play it… Instead of storming over there and demanding who that man with him was like I wanted so desperately for me to do, I walked to an empty stool near the opposite end of the bar. He wasn’t that important anyway. I could have another man just like him beneath me before the night was over. “Whiskey,” I told the bartender. The glass had barely been set down when a cheerful voice spoke beside me. “You look disappointed.” I turned. A woman with curly dark hair who looked a few years older smiled at me from the neighboring stool. “Did someone stand you up?” I let out a quiet laugh. “Something like that.” “I’m Emma.” “Lucas.”

Unmistakable. Damien. Early as hell. Bedroom door flew open.He filled the frame, tie loose, jacket slipping off one shoulder. Dark eyes swept the carnage: his wife wrecked under her best friend, legs hooked, skin gleaming with sweat and cum, air reeking of fresh pussy juice.He froze. Stared. Then that slow predatory smirk curled his lips. Hungry as fuck.

Too quickly. She laughed, sharp and bitter. “You think I don’t see it? Ever since she came back, you’ve been distant. You barely touch me and barely even look at me.” “I have responsibilities,” I replied. “So do I,” she said. “I am your mate.” The word felt wrong and heavy. Like a chain instead of a bond. “And yet,” she continued, her voice breaking, “you haven’t touched me in weeks.” Silence filled the room. “This is not the time,” I said.

"You want a puppet who'll nod and smile. However, now the puppet's strings are cut, and you're freaking out." Francis' expression turned icy. "I'm not freaking out." "Then why switch my meds?" I asked, a challenge. "You're terrified. Terrified that without those drugs, I'll realize I don't love…" His response was to kiss me, a fierce, angry kiss. I fought back, but he held me by the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He had bitten my lip. It was a kiss unlike any other in the ten years I had known him, fueled by both lust and a need to punish.

"Bring it on, vampire. I'm ready for anything." With a playful gleam in his eyes, Jonathan leaned in and captured my lips once again, this time with a mix of tenderness and mischief. Our laughter dissolved into a passionate embrace. At that moment, surrounded by the aroma of breakfast cooking and the warmth of our connection, I realized that our love was not just about the serious moments or the battles we faced. It was also about finding joy and laughter in the simplest of moments, cherishing the lightheartedness that kept our spirits alive.

She watched as the topless Cedric approached the French window and smilingly took the book from the woman. Cedric then bent down and exchanged a passionate kiss with the woman. She couldn't hear the lovebirds' words. However, she could see the man who had always exuded a cold and arrogant demeanor, laughing and carrying the woman bridal-style. The long hair moved and revealed a bright and beautiful face. It was Diana Sorsby! That slut! Misty felt a burning hatred surging within her, and her eyes were reddening. Her nails dug deep into her palms as she stared intensely at the lovebirds.