The Passion Novel Novels & Stories

There has to be something in the Bible to help with this current uncontrollable addiction i was developing for my stepdad. The thought of him alone made my nipples harden and I gulped. He caused this. He started this. He created this sizzling uncontrollable desire always brewing within me every single time the thought of him came to mind. There has to be a way I can control this. This has to end. Perhaps, renewing my faith would help. But what the use when I am no longer a virgin? I sighed and glanced at the Bible. I could as well keep fucking him till all the lust for him within me is dead.

A good 30 people cried and told stories of how wonderful she was. When it was my turn, my hands shook as I stood in front of everyone. It felt as if my story was the most important, I am the reason she is gone. I haven't been able to sleep or think clearly. This was my life now, it was a living hell. "Maddie was beautiful. She was so beautiful that she captured my heart from the moment I laid eyes on her. The ring on her finger meant a lot to me, she was the first woman I've ever loved. I loved her more than life itself. The day she passed, I thought to myself how I would even live without her here. But then I remembered that she left me with a beautiful daughter. My daughter's personality a

She didn't know when her eyes started raining tears. "It's Dorcas I love and I'm glad she loves me too. I've loved her since the first time I set my eyes on her. I thought she wouldn't reciprocate my love but thank God she does," Nath confessed with a broad smile. "I love you very much, Dorcas," Nath said, gathering her in his arms. "I love you too, Nath," Dorcas replied and hugged him tightly. She withdrew and looked up at him. "For her to know that you only love me and not her, kiss me so passionately and let her see to believe," Dorcas seduced.

I asked, pushing my plate away from me. Bartholomew tapped his fork to his head as a huge frown drew his lower lip out. “It’s said they died without ever having done anything,” he said. “You and Cillian—you have too much fire in you to live in such a way. You must seize the moments while they’re burning with the flames of passion.” I cringed. Was he really talking to me about sex? Bartholomew’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “Get your head out of the gutter. Passion comes in many forms. For instance, when you built Argentum, what drove you to keep going to make it what it is today? Is that not passion?”

Full of everything. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark. His voice is low. His hands are steady. His grip is firm. His heart is open. His soul is bare. His love is real. His passion is consuming. "You're not hers," he says. "Whose? Whose am I not? Who are you talking about? Tell me. I need to hear you say it. I need to know. I need to be sure. I need to feel it."

"So what's got you stuck? Plot hole? Character motivation? Or..." He paused, and Emma could swear he was holding back laughter. "What?" she demanded. "Nothing. It's just that 'Heat Between the Lines' sounds like it might be a romance about books. Or writers. Am I warm?" Too warm. Uncomfortably, impossibly warm. "It's about a novelist," Emma admitted reluctantly. "And let me guess she's struggling to write authentic passion because she's never actually experienced it herself?" Emma's mouth fell open. "How did you—"

His daughter could be affected, and he would not want these vile people dragging his little girl into this whole mess. However, he could not stop thinking about that kiss. She was fire and all, and he never felt so alive for a really long time. He could feel her little body everywhere, he wanted her and if Natalie and her unwanted guests had not interrupted their passionate bonding, he could have taken her right in that storage, and he was sure she would not have objected. But now, in the light of the whole issue he had more work to do. Considering some stubborn newspapers and magazines had gone ahead to post a hundred to one hundred and fifty worded story, with pictures of him, and Hailey i

She kept thinking about Alex, Nick, and a place to live. 'Why are they tying me into this relationship father? Why should I marry someone against my will?! I love Nick! He is my savior, when there was no one beside me he was there to help me! I would've gone insane without him! I love him with all my heart and he loves me! I trust him and he trusts me! I don't want to marry Alex or whatever! Why Baba why? Tell me why life is being so hard on me? what did I ever do to deserve this? That Shoaib harassed me for so many years, I was left alone! You and mama were always too busy to give me any time, again I was left alone! I was going insane! But he, Nick was there to keep me on the verge of sani

Even with the flowers and air fresheners in the chapel, sometimes we could feel a waft of air heavy with the smell of burned meat. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fire. It was stronger than reason. A masochistic need to torture myself. The worst physical pain Iris had ever faced was when Sara, her best friend, shut the car door and crushed her hand, breaking four of her fingers all at once. The pain was so intense that my sister peed herself in front of everyone. The urine ran down her pencil skirt while she screamed in agony. I remember how she looked at Sara—the one we’d known since childhood, the one who did Iris's homework, who spent hours at our house, who rolled out a red car

She arched against him, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensation, her nails digging into his back as she reached for the peak. Vincent lowered himself and kissed her once more. With each thrust, he reaffirmed his love, his devotion, and his unrelenting passion for her. The room soon filled with the sounds of their pleasure, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. It was a symphony of passion, a testament to the enduring strength of their love. As the fire between them grew, Isla surrendered completely. Something about Vincent’s intensity fueled her own desires, awakening a need in her that had long been dormant. She felt a primal urge to connect with him on this deepest level,