The Surprisingly Hot Case for Condoms in Romance Novels

Romance novels are filled with familiar tropes –– enemies to lovers, forced proximity, forbidden relationships. They’re also filled with pages of steamy sex scenes that include little to no mention of protection against sexually transmitted diseases or unwanted pregnancy. And while it’s easy to write off all romantic fiction as harmless fantasy that need not engage with something as rudimentary as a condom, there are many authors making the case that sexual safety deserves more real estate on the pages of book publishing’s most popular genre.

“It frustrates me that we live in a society that still stigmatizes condom use as ‘unsexy,’ to the point where some people feel ashamed for asking their partner to wear one,” says bestselling romance author Jordyn Taylor, who includes them in every penetrative sex scene in her new queer romance novel, See You at the Summit. In one heated moment, she writes:

He moaned into the kiss, and she felt his erection heavy on her thigh.

“Are you hard for me already?” she whispered.

“I can’t control myself around you.” He pushed himself up to a high kneeling position, unwrapped the condom, and rolled it down his stiff cock. Then he lowered himself back onto her, pressing his shaft against her swollen clit, and Simone let out a gasp that was equal parts surprise and satisfaction.

Condom usage rates among young people have been dropping over the past decade — which is particularly concerning in an era of limited abortion access. Protection doesn’t necessarily belong in every book — it would be ludicrous to bust out a “ribbed for her pleasure” Trojan in a 16th century bodice ripper. But as bestselling romance author BK Borison says, spicy novels serve as a model for people’s IRL love lives by “illustrating to readers what they should be asking for in their own relationships.”

“A lot of people have it in their heads that pausing to put on a condom kills the mood or that they’re an antithesis to pleasure. These things aren’t true!” she says. “It’s hot and exciting. Like, ‘Ooooh, we’re gonna get that kind of f*cking now!’”

Keeping It Steamy

If you think it’s impossible to make condoms sound titillating, know that plenty of writers are more than up for the challenge. “A competent romance author should be able to make even a conversation about taxes sexy and fun,” says award-winning romance author Alisha Rai, who actively includes condoms and moments around sexual safety in her novels.

Or as bestselling romance author Sarah Adams so perfectly put it, “As long as it matches the tone of the rest of the scene, a reader will never feel jarred by the appearance of a condom. I mean, who wants to miss out on an opportunity to have the hero tear the foil package with his teeth?”

Condoms aren’t woven in just to check some clinical box, either. In a romance novel, a sex scene is never just a sex scene. It’s a chance to reveal something about who the characters really are. The way someone handles safety in bed can speak volumes.

“I don’t think there’s anything sexier than someone who is checking in on their partner’s comfort during an intimate moment,” Borison says. “It’s two people telling each other ‘I care about you; I want to keep you safe; I want us to be on the same page with this.’”

Rather than interrupting the sexual tension, she sees discussions about consent, sexual health, and protection as a way to establish vulnerability — plus, of course, desire. Here’s an excerpt from her 2025 novel First-Time Caller:

“Get the condoms.” She pecks a kiss against my mouth. “Please.”

I roll my way off her and stumble up the steps, Lucie’s husky laugh trailing after me. I almost tear the medicine cabinet off the wall in the bathroom, one of the shelves collapsing in my enthusiasm to grab the condom box. Toothpaste and deodorant and an expired bottle of ibuprofen spill out across the floor like a pharmaceutical piñata, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except getting back to Lucie.

Lucie, who is waiting for me in the middle of the couch fort, her bra discarded behind her, all bare skin and messy hair. I stand on the bottom step, struck dumb at the sight of her.”

Before you start yelling at me on BookTok, know that I’m not about to suggest that every romance author from Julia Quinn to Sarah J. Maas takes an oath issued by the Romance Writers of America to force every hunky male hero into a condom. When it comes to romantasy, if I can pretend that fairies and demons exist, I can pretend that magical beings are immune to chlamydia.

I’m not even suggesting that every contemporary romance author whose leads meet on Hinge is under a moral obligation to have them consider real-world factors like STIs or unplanned pregnancy. But I do think it’s worth talking about why safer sex narratives are so important at a time when STI rates are rising and the U.S. government is making it increasingly difficult to obtain safe reproductive health care.

Reflecting Reality

It’s fair to stand in the belief that fiction is fiction, and that age-appropriate readers are capable of separating the behavior of imaginary characters from the consequences of their own actions in the same way that Gillian Flynn isn’t responsible for a woman attempting to Gone Girl her cheating husband. Imagining a world where sex comes with no risk other than emotional attachment is escapist in the same way it’s fun to think about leaving your corporate job to marry a Christmas tree farmer with an eight-pack. But for contemporary romance authors clearly trying to write characters whose concerns reflect our current world, it honestly just makes sense to include sexual-health considerations.

“We’re living through a disturbing rollback on sexual freedom, from reduced access to safe, legal abortion to the Trump administration no longer honoring World AIDS Day, and the state of sex education in the United States is still woefully inadequate,” says writer and sex and culture critic Ella Dawson.

She believes that she and her fellow romance authors should acknowledge the reality their readers are living in. “Not every book needs to include a detailed conversation about STI testing, but I think it’s a cop-out to say that safe sex isn’t escapist and just wave it off entirely.”

In many cases, the presence of a condom can actually help the reader escape into a sex scene without wondering if an unplanned pregnancy plotline is looming around the corner. Here’s an excerpt from Dawson’s 2024 novel But How Are You, Really:

She put the condoms on the bookshelf and sat down next to him on the bed. He kissed her shoulder, his movements languid.

“Should we talk about it?” she asked.

Reece leaned back against the wall. “Sure.” He did some mental math as he wiggled his toes. “It’s been . . . four months? Since my last STI screening. Nothing new to report.” His teeth caught the moonlight, his face bare of shame or awkwardness. He gave her a playful smile as he added, “My sex life isn’t thriving now that I live with my mom.”

Charlotte tried to remember her last checkup. She’d gotten tested once her relationship with Merielle was over, and she didn’t have much to account for since then. “My last test was in August, no positives.” She didn’t need to elaborate, but she couldn’t help herself. “No one to jeopardize that either.”

Reece took her hand from where it rested on her knee and brought her palm to his lips. Her fingers curled inward at the just-so graze of his mouth against her skin. “How has no one in that city noticed how incredible you are?”

Having lived and dated with herpes for more than a decade, Dawson says, “If a book includes a thoughtful depiction of mental health, or dating after divorce, or coming out as queer, but STIs just don’t exist in the character’s universe, I roll my eyes. It feels intellectually dishonest.”

And it’s not just romance readers who are also romance writers who find it difficult to escape into a romance novel with no mention of sexual risk. “If I’m reading about characters who are supposed to be similar to me — your average 2026 woman dealing with a rather insane political climate — the book simply reads better if the characters act authentically,” says Caroline, a romance blogger who goes by @difficultwomanreads.

“If a woman in a contemporary romance doesn’t even think about condoms even if she decides to ‘risk it’ with a partner she doesn't know well, it’s either bad writing or the character is the type of woman who’s just so blissfully unaware of the risks that I can’t identify with her,” she says.

Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re missing until you see someone else have it. Would the ideal romantic interest not take their sexual health and yours seriously? Would Mr./Ms./Mx. Perfect ever risk your health because they think getting a condom will ruin the mood? Would the truest expression of love — as Katz put it — not be sex between two people who care about one another enough to discuss sexual health?

A condom and a recent STI panel? Ooooh, we’re gonna get that kind of f*cking now.