Top Lesbian Romance Novels Novels & Stories

"I want to know what he tastes like. I want to taste the Alpha's cum on you without actually crossing the line." My cunt ached at his words. The thought of his tongue, someone I had crushed on for years, cleaning away the Alpha's mess was electrifying. It was wrong, dangerous even, but after the savage heat of the night before, the idea of Rox being worshipful and thorough between my legs felt like it would be so good.

As they kissed, she felt like she was finally home. And as they stood there on the rooftop, with the city spread out before them and the stars twinkling overhead, Celess knew that she had found the one thing she had been searching for all her life: a love that was thrilling, dangerous, and utterly irresistible.

I held his broad shoulder and, “Hi I’m Chloe. What your name?” “Hmmm, I am Vin” He smiled, OH white set of teeth, mint breathe, and redish lips. I kissed him on his side of his lips and went inside. I am laying on one of the bed in this club and remembered Vin, his biceps, his broad shoulders, his toned body, his perfect jaw line, his eyes, and his seductive lips. I started to caress my thighs, then to my abdomen, and then slowly thrust my left hand inside my satin shorts trying to feel my wetness, why am I so turned on to him? As I pushed my fingers in, I promised to myself that this night won’t end without sleeping with him.

Maan said while tugging his hand. When Gil sat beside her, his attention was caught by Maan’s unbuttoned pajama tops. He swallowed then looked at Maan’s face then without any warning crashed his lips on hers. That lit a fire between them that consumed all the passion they have for each other. So as John and Angel wished, they filled the house with love starting from the living room.

The private dungeon room smelled of polished leather, faint incense, and raw anticipation. Soft red lighting bathed the space in warmth, highlighting the St. Andrew’s cross, the padded bench, and the heavy oak table where various implements waited. At 26, Lena had dreamed of this moment for months. Tonight, in this soundproofed sanctuary, she would finally be collared by Marcus, her dominant, her lover, the man who had slowly peeled back every layer of her control until she craved nothing more than to surrender it completely.

Maria's head was thrown back, her mouth open in a gasp as Elena's thumb circled her swollen clit. Beside them, Sister Theresa and Sister Lucia were locked in their own heated embrace. Theresa, with her pale skin and pert ass, straddled Lucia's face, grinding her dripping folds against the other woman's eager tongue. Lucia lapped hungrily, her hands gripping Theresa's thighs, pulling her down harder. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, moans and slurps filling the sacred space. They hadn't noticed me yet, lost in their forbidden pleasures—fingering, licking, touching in ways that mocked their holy oaths.

"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.

It was her world, simple and intense. The next evening came faster than Lou expected. Her body still tingled from the night before, a mix of soreness and sweet ache that made her walk a little funny. But she didn't mind. In fact, it excited her. As soon as the sun dipped low, she and Dante headed back to their private room. The door clicked shut behind them, and the familiar scent of leather and candle wax filled the air. The walls were dark, lined with shelves holding all their toys—whips, clamps, dildos, ropes.

Vittoria Foscari has been in rooms like this across six countries and she reads them the way she reads everything, which is as architecture designed to project authority. Tonight there are nine of them, representatives from the four major European vampire courts, and they have been in London for eight days observing the aftermath of the Thames incident and drawing conclusions. The conclusions are not favorable to the British supernatural community. "The hybrid program," says Renard, from Paris, and he says it with the particular inflection of someone tasting something they expected to be unpleasant and finding it worse than anticipated. "We have rules about this. We have had rules about this

Their bodies pressed flush, his hips grinding against hers. The tension shifted—from combat to something darker. Something hotter. “Yield,” he whispered, his breath ragged. Luna smiled despite the ache in her limbs. “Never.” With a sharp twist of her hips, she dislodged him, rolling them until she was on top again. She sat on his waist, her thighs pinning him down. Their faces inches apart, both panting, sweat and blood mixing between them. Toran stared up at her, his pupils blown wide. “You’re dangerous.”