Toxic Romance Books Novels & Stories

Julian The quiet night air was cold, but the dark, restless fire burning in my chest was hot enough to consume everything in sight. I hadn't planned on playing the villain tonight, but listening to the bastard inside that house scream at her this morning had set something lethal off inside me. If you keep touching me like this, I swear to God I'll sleep with a random man off the street! Her desperate, trembling voice had carried right across the narrow space between our houses. It was a bluff—a fragile, cornered weapon thrown out by a woman drowning in fear.

A kiss! I didn’t have any expectations for an “us”. I had wants but no expectations. I may be a hopeless romantic happy to get lost between the pages of a hot and steamy novel or a sigh-with-sweetness one, but I am not naïve enough to believe that those kinds of things happen all the time. Some people will get that kind of love that makes guys wonder and girls swoon, but not everyone.

I leaned in a fraction of an inch, a teasing glint in my eyes, "I prefer classic literature. Russian realism, psychological thrillers. Dostoyevsky, Fitzgerald, Hemingway. I like substance." "Substance?!" Ruby mocked, completely offended. "Are you implying my romance novels don't have substance? Excuse you, but enemies-to-lovers tropes require intense psychological maneuvering! The angst! The tension! It's art, Alexander. Your little Russian thrillers have nothing on a slow-burn romance."

TW: This book is provocative. It is categorized as DARK ROMANCE for a reason. It will not be for everyone. If you are a reader with certain triggers or sensitivities common to the dark romance genre then know that this book contains: a very dirty talker hero, sexual degradation, dubcon, rough play, and s&m themes. ♕—Delilah Lorenzo pulled away breathing heavily, a raindrop slid down my face and into my parted lips. Being in Lorenzo's arms and not feeling any fear was terrifying because it felt so good. I can't deny the fact that I had never felt safer than I do in his arms.

Mafia books on this platform: Take me I'm yours ( stalker romance) His secret wife (Marriage of convience) Werewolf books on this platform: The royally screwed Luna The royally screwed queen The royally screwed princess The royally screwed rogue Dark romance on this platform: Let me go ( Stalker romance) Coming July 2024 Kind regards Tema G.M Your favorite author *Heart*

Long enough for me to remember who I was before I met him. Turns out, I actually like romance novels. Not the tasteful literary romances Kenneth approved of. I’m talking absolutely shameless books with shirtless men on the covers, morally questionable billionaires, ridiculous amounts of tension, and enough spice to qualify as attempted arson. The kind Kenneth used to wrinkle his nose at. “Those books rot your brain, Jo.” Funny. I don’t think the books were the problem. I’ve also rediscovered cheesy rom-coms and psychological thrillers, all the goodies that Kenneth never agreed to watch with me because they were “too stupid” (the romcoms) and “too complicated” (the psych thrillers).

and moved back. Everything was too much for me to intake. All surreal but scary. I composed myself and said," I used to think you are an irritating, arrogant, and ruthless businessman. Never in my dreams, I thought you can be a ‘hopeless romantic’ too.” "See, when it comes to romance, I believe in keeping it simple. For a second, did you call me ‘hopeless romantic’ by any chance?", his words held a little annoyance. Very little that to be noted.

The hate fucking turned into something raw and real with every thrust that carried all the shoving matches and trash talk from the season. But now this fed into the pleasure. We came together this time, loudly this time with our bodies shaking. I pumped another load from my cock deep inside of him while he shot his all over my hands and his own abs. “Fuck, Damon,” he muttered. I was addicted to this, the damn way he milked my cock, the way we still hated each other but could not even get ourselves to stop fucking. It felt dangerous and perfect. After that we finally collapsed on the cold floor near the showers with both of us bruised, covered in marks, and sweat, and thick white cum.

I brace myself, expecting the slap, the screaming, the same words my mother once hurled at my father's mistress—"You think he won't cheat on you too? You deserve each other. You're nothing." But Wren just steps closer, shoving my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble back. The soreness between my legs flares, a raw reminder of last night. "I've known Luca since I was a child, Vivienne. I've loved him that long. You wouldn't understand, you're just a kid." Her voice cracks. "Don't you have any shame? Huh?" "I'm sorry," I whisper. "You're barely twenty years old, fucking a grown man. Your stepbrother." She spits the word like it's poison. "You disgust me."

“Summer,” I said evenly and coolly, as though I was addressing a stranger. “This is a private hotel. If you continue to make a ruckus, I’ll ask security to escort you out.” “Escort me out?!” She laughed manically, as though she had heard the most absurd joke. “Zoe, you bitch! You ruined everything! You ruined my marriage and my reputation, yet you’re here acting like you own the place?! I wouldn’t be in this state if it weren’t for you!”