42 Kiss His Son Mga Nobela at Kwento

Will you really let your own child grow up without a father? The crowd looked at me with such hostility that it felt like they wanted to tear me apart, yet I remained calm. I glanced at the phone and told my father, "Dad, I've considered this divorce very carefully. I'll send you a video. After you see it, you'll understand everything." Dad opened the video I sent, and his expression changed instantly. "Rowan, you did the right thing. You're a worthy son of the Smith family. We will not swallow this humiliation. If it's divorce you want, then divorce it is."

Dominic waved to his mother before putting his focus back on his horse. Killian spotted her and joined her at the fence. “Hey angel,” he said softly before claiming her lips in a kiss. The passion they shared never died, he cupped her cheek as she deepened the kiss with a heated groan. “Tonight.” was all he said before kissing her head. “Where’s Mason?” she asked climbing the fence. When she found comfort in her seating Killian stood between her legs while watching their son. Mason was their second son three years younger than Dominic. “He’s with Tamra and Trey.”

He sets his glass down with deliberate slowness and rises from his seat, approaching me like a predator. “You’re so clueless that you don’t understand why you’re here. Just the way I like them.” Before I can react, his sweaty hand clamps around my wrist. He lunges forward, bringing his face mere inches from mine. With my work already hanging on my arm, I curve away from his incoming kiss and twist my wrist out of his hold. Then I elbow him forcefully just enough to make him yelp and stagger away from my side. His son catches him and lets out a raw scream filled with rage, “You fucking bitch. How dare you lay hands on my father!”

“Why do you still kiss me even when I haven't taken a bath?” “True enough,” Abraham chuckled. She glared at him to signal him to stop talking. She took a deep breath before forcing a smile. “Fine, Love, come give me a kiss,” she said, her voice dripping with forced compliance. Abraham set Isaac down, pulled her waist close, and captured her lips in a kiss. It wasn't just a simple kiss; he explored the inside of Cassandra's mouth, taking advantage of the fact that their son was busy playing with his toy. “You haven't changed at all, you still taste so good,” he murmured.

“You stubborn, beautiful idiot.” “I thought if I kept my distance, I couldn’t make my father’s mistake,” he whispers. “But the moment I smelled you in that club… my wolf knew.” I pull him up until our foreheads touch, the bond glowing warm and steady between us. Our son gives a strong, contented kick, as if approving. We kiss—slow, deep, tasting of blood and tears and hard-won victory. His hand stays protectively over my belly the entire time. When we finally break apart, I rest my head against his shoulder. “We still have to deal with Savannah. And Darius.”

And also, he had me in the palm of his hands, if he ever found out, he could crush me. I could lose my father forever. "It was a mistake. I was drunk." "Liar." He countered. "It was a mistake, Hunter. A lapse in judgement. It's my fault, you're just a kid, I should have known better." His face hardened into steel, and I stepped back at his sudden resemblance to Christian. Oh God. I felt sick. I was thirty four years old and last night, I had let my twenty two year old step son kiss me. Worst of all, I had enjoyed it, I had wanted more.

Their conversation flowed like a symphony, their souls intertwining in a harmonious dance. Lost in the throes of passion in his embrace, she whispered, "Kiss me, Sonu, and let's make this moment last forever." Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing their commitment and igniting a fire that would burn brightly throughout their journey. "Kiss me here, Sonu." Maria gestured at her cleavage; her voice filled with desire. Sonu's eyes widened as he leaned in, bringing his face into the valley between her breasts and kissing her flesh with a passionate touch. As they pressed closer together, Maria gasped, whispering, "Oh, Sonu, make me yours completely."

We went down to the kitchen, and Tristan pulled me against him, his lips finding mine in a kiss that started soft and quickly became devouring. “Is August sleeping?” I whispered between kisses. “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Aurora…” We didn’t have time to finish. “Uncle Tristan?” The small voice came from the stairs. We separated quickly, but not quickly enough. August was there, on the last step, eyes wide, face lit by the faint kitchen light. Our son — my son, Tristan’s son — had seen us kissing. “August…” I began, but the words wouldn’t come. Tristan was faster. He crouched down to the boy’s level, his face serious but not frightening.

"Then why is your heart pounding like this when I touch you, Rose?" He leans down, letting his nose brush against the sensitive skin of my neck. He inhales my scent deeply, as if I were the oxygen he needs to survive. His warm lips then move, placing soft kisses along my jawline to the corner of my mouth. A primitive, chest-tightening passion suddenly explodes. Here I am, newly heartbroken, yet feeling an intense thirst for the touch of this stranger. "Xavier..." I murmur unconsciously. Hearing his name, he no longer holds back. He captures my lips in a deep, demanding kiss. This isn't a gentle kiss; it's the claim of an Alpha. His large hands creep to my waist, pulling my body until I'm sea

His lips tremble almost imperceptibly, and I know he is trying to control the turmoil within him, but he is already caught. I step forward, slowly, each step an invisible caress rekindling the fire within him. Without a word, I draw him to me and kiss him. The kiss is long, deep, a tension blending softness and command. I feel his resistance crack, his hands brush against mine, first hesitantly, then with that contained urgency he has tried to suppress for two weeks.