Novel & Cerita Standalone Fantasy Romance

How I met him was quite a meet-cute, never have I been in a relationship this passionate. He was everything and supported me, he gave me all I ever asked for. Since I first met him at the club, where I turned from a waitress to a striper, he had always hovered around me. He made me felt special, I could see his love for me in his eyes. We never had any problems, just small irrelevant arguments. I have been dreaming about the day he would propose to me, to be sincere, I have never been this patient in my life.

The young woman sitting by me stopped her game and watched me rant in astonishment. When I ran out of angry words, she clapped her hands in succession, and it echoed in the silence. "Well said, Princess, but I think someone lied to you, just like they lied to some of them over there," she said, pointing to a point in the room's corner. "Over there in the blue dress is Princess Kit of the Blue Brook Pack. She was given away as an alliance gift to the Lycan King and found herself as a slave here the very next day. Following her is Princess Yvette from the distant pack region of the werecats. She was told that she was to be matched with the Lycan Prince. She has not gotten over the deceit that

Picturing him out there in the trees somewhere, watching me, I turned a little more aggressive, plumping the flesh under my fingers until a sharp ache pierced me between the legs. “Mmm.” I sank deeper into the waterfall, until the stream gushed around my hair, over my shoulders, and then chased my hand down as I left my breasts and moved toward the aching throb between my legs. The fantasy was so fresh and clear in my head; I leaned against the rock wall of the falls and tipped my chin up until the shower hit me on the forehead. Only my face, breasts, and a bent knee broke through the curtain of water. I pictured Farrow worrying about me because I was taking too long. Spoiled princess and al

Check out Getting Over Him, which is written in Arianna’s POV if you haven’t read it yet. Also, if you like reading Paranormal Romance, Lycan’s Blood Queen, my debut paranormal romance, is out now. This is the very first story I wrote back in 2016. It went through a lot of rewrites since then, and I’m very happy with the end results. I really hope you enjoyed this story. If you liked it, do consider leaving reviews on A****n, Goodreads, or Bookbub. Reviews encourage the authors and help readers to discover new books.

DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE FORBIDDEN ROMANCE YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT… I*******M @Vee_wr_ites. XOXO AUTHOR BLU~VEE.

He clicked his tongue, appreciating my body. While I started cooking, he leaned in and commented, "Yvonne, am I doing this right?" He reached out and grabbed the handle of the frying pan, his strong hand covering mine. At the same time, his other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me. I almost lost my balance, heat spreading across my body as I experienced my fantasy turning into reality. Even my ears felt like they were on fire. Antonio's proximity was overwhelming, and I could feel the intensity of his presence, a mix of boldness and unshakable confidence.

The moment I did, the darkness was filled with them. Finn’s rough thumb against my cheek. Kelly’s massive frame looming over me. “Nova...” I could hear them in the hiss of the steam, their voices merging into a dark, forbidden demand. In my mind, the fantasy bloomed, violent and intoxicating. A soft, broken moan escaped my lips. My hand slid down my wet belly, my fingers parting my aching folds and sliding straight into the slick, dripping heat of my own desire. I was soaking wet, leaking heavily.

I pulled my sweater over my head, then my leggings and panties, until I was standing completely naked in front of him. Colton stepped closer, towering over me. He reached out and ran his hand down my stomach, then lower, cupping my pussy possessively. “You’re mine,” he said. It wasn’t a question. I nodded. “I know.” He pushed two fingers inside me without warning. I was already wet. He groaned when he felt it. “Even now,” he muttered, pumping his fingers slowly. “Even when your ex is trying to contact you, your pussy gets wet for me.”

It is my escape. The signs stretch around the block, and inside are tiers of shelves so high they touch the rafters. It smells of aged parchment and earth. I stroll the aisles, flipping through tales of fated mates and forbidden bonds. I settle on a story about a powerful leader and his bonded—it feels ironic. I take it to the stone counter. The elder scans the binding with a wink. "A classic." "I bet I know how it ends," I say. "I bet you don't," she replies.

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’?