Trashy Romance Novels Novels & Stories

-I BELONG TO YOU FOREVER - ENDLESSLY MINE - INFINITELY OURS -WHEN YOU LEAVE YOPUR HEART BEHIND .... so far there are still more to be uploaded. ***** POWER AND TEMPTATION MAFIA SERIES( romance/erotic/betrayal)************ - BOOK 1 ITALIAN MAFIA -ITALIAN MAFIA 2/ SHES'S STILL MINE ************INDIVIDUAL STORIES************* - FEARLESS LUNA (WEREWOLF SEXY ROMANCE STORY)

“Were you ever going to find a nice girl to settle down with?” “I've said before that I don't believe in marriage or love. I feel like it's a waste of time being tied down to someone who you may not even stay the rest of your life with. I feel free when I'm just hooking up here and there, knowing I don't have promises to keep and vice versa. I feel free knowing that I don't have to not stress myself thinking about someone else; if they've eaten, if they're well, or how much they love me and if they're cheating on me. I prefer fucking each other and going our ways.”

The school was boring anyway. Even now, I was currently staring at one of those books, an ancient werewolf romance novel, while she was reading a much hotter and more recent one; Inferno, Yeah it went along with the title and all. According to her, she wanted to spice things up with Charles and didn't mind recreating some of the scenes from the book, the girl was such a dirty-minded one, and she didn't mind sharing all those gruesome details with me.

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 robe slid from my shoulders with a whisper and pooled at my feet, leaving me bare beneath his hungry gaze. “You just didn’t see me,” I whispered, pulling him into another heated kiss, unwilling to let a single second slip away. His lips claimed mine with urgency. He sucked gently on my lower lip while I nipped at his upper, parting for him. Our tongues tangled, hot and reckless, igniting sparks that raced through my veins. His hand slid firmly around my waist, drawing me flush against his body until there was no space left between us. The kiss deepened, consuming, as if neither of us could get enough.

Even so, the whole process feels like a battle, and I am already exhausted by the time I have the books in my hands. I still read romantic novels. There is something comforting about them, even if some of the stories hit a little too close to home. Some of the plots are eerily similar to my own life, while others are pure escapism—beautiful, heartwarming tales from start to finish. Sure, the characters face hardships and tribulations, but what always stands out to me is the love and trust between the couples. It is the kind of love that feels unshakable, the kind I used to dream about. Now, I am not so sure if that kind of love exists for me anymore.

“But right now, before you go out into the world, we need to spend some time reminding you exactly who your body belongs to.” The intense emotional argument shifted instantly into a wave of hot, consuming passion. They lifted my body effortlessly off the floor and carried me over to the large leather couch in the corner of the library. They stripped the clothes from my body with frantic, impatient hands, their eyes devouring my bare skin in the dim light of the room. They took turns tasting every single inch of me. Alexander lowered his head between my thighs, his hot tongue licking my wet pussy with long, expert strokes, while Damien captured my breasts, sucking on my nipples until I was wr

Monalisa Smutty books were getting way too filthy for my taste lately. The couple in the one I was reading were twisted into a position that looked physically impossible, legs over shoulders, back arched at a brutal angle, the hero slamming into her so deep and hard it looked like he was trying to ruin her for any other man. The author deserved jail time. How the hell did someone even write something that dirty? And how was the heroine not cramping? I gripped my Kindle so tight my knuckles turned white, equal parts horrified and shamefully turned on, when the chaos downstairs exploded again. Bass vibrated through the floor. Loud laughter. Splashing. Drunken shouts.

A smile crept onto my face as I adjusted my grip on the novel, its cover barely hiding the kind of story that made my heart race. A dark, depraved mafia romance. It had a male lead who didn’t ask permission so much as demand surrender. A man who played with consent the way a composer toyed with notes—artfully, deliberately, with the kind of confidence that made my skin prickle and my thighs press together. One that was over too soon. The kind of book I devoured in a fever and now I was in need of another. Most folks wouldn’t think of the local library as a treasure trove of scandalous reads, but I knew better. The librarians were in on the secret, intentionally filling the shelves with books

somebody asked, which made everyone giggle. “No way. If they did, she wouldn’t be walking properly,” another added. In a chorus of laughter, I felt my cheeks darken with barely contained anger. “But for real, it’s being wasted on Scheur,” Margo, a maid I barely interacted with, said. I knew she had a few relationships with other werewolves, never shying from her sexual escapades and retelling stories. “Yeah, if it was me, I wouldn’t only try to date him but use him to better my life. He is rich—use him and raise your power,” she added, which wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t interested in him at all. I had no interest in being with a man like King Baldwin.