Bad First Kiss Novels & Stories

There were a few things I should get to know, myself. “Fine.” I crossed my arms and watched him closely as I spilled the horror of my first kiss. A drunk, messy, awkward thing in a bar, with a creepy stranger, on my sixteenth birthday. A stupid act of rebellion against my mom who I caught in the same bar. It's kept its record as the worst kiss of my life. Adrien made a face. I found it cute. Get a grip, girl. “I think you're the first human with a sob story about their first kiss. Pretty much every other human I've met always had something feel-good to say about theirs.”

“Don’t make a sound, mate.” He yanked me toward him, lowered his head, and smashed his lips to mine. First kiss. Holy fuck, it was good. No fireworks. Just straight-up explosions. And just like that—Kyler Arrow ruined me for every man on this planet. O. M. G.

"Wait. You've never been kissed before, have you?" I pulled the blanket back over my head. "Maybe." "Oh my god, you're a kissing virgin!" "Don't say it like that!" "That's so sweet! And also explains why you're having a complete meltdown over normal romantic progression." If only she knew that my meltdown had nothing to do with inexperience and everything to do with the very real possibility of accidentally biting my first kiss. "What if I'm terrible at it?" I mumbled into my pillow. "Ming, kissing isn't rocket science. Besides, Kamon likes you. He's not going to judge you for being new at this."

~SAFFRON~ I didn't fight it. I couldn't. It's like I'm paralyzed. His lips are surprisingly plush, parting just enough for a rush of cool mint to flood my mouth, cutting through the faint salt of his sweat. The kiss is brief, ending with a soft, wet smack that echoes in my ears, and I’m left clinging to his oversized hockey jersey. I turn to look at the girl who's approaching us, but she’s already walking away hurriedly, never looking back.

I lifted my head off the bed and attempted closing the distance but he only grinned knowingly and pulled away completely. “Why don’t you wanna kiss me?” I asked dejectedly. At this point, it was something I felt like I might faint if I didn't get it. “Because you were a bad girl.” He responded calmly. “I’ll be good, your good girl.” I promised desperately, before throwing my arms around his neck and using it to tug myself up, towards his lips, as I continued to speak. “You said I was your good girl.” “I did, but that was because you became bad.”

“The kiss.” “Yes.” His gaze locked onto hers, unreadable. “Your goodnight kiss.” Her breath caught, fury and fear warring inside her. “You’re insane.” “Perhaps.” He leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath against her skin. “But you agreed.” Her heart pounded violently, yet she refused to let him see her crumble. Slowly, with trembling defiance, she rose on her toes and pressed the lightest, quickest kiss to his cheek. Barely a brush.

Yeah, I knew that just fine, and don’t I love every aspect of that rule. Justin looked me up and down once again, eyes zeroing in on my lips. I licked my bottom lip in that moment, knowing it was going to distract him a little, and it worked– because he tugged me forward, lowering his mouth towards mine, making my eyes fall close in anticipation as I clutched the material of the dress I had on tightly. I felt his lips hover over mine for a fleeting moment, but instead of finally kissing me, he began to speak. “I don’t think bad girls deserve kisses. If you can’t get my pants open with your teeth like a good girl, why do you think you deserve a kiss from me now?”

Thankfully the sound of the musical rain falling, I could avoid my phone. I adored the slightly visible rain drops from the far away window in my front as the flashbacks of the kiss occupied my head. Uh, it was not that bad thought. He is cunningly savage but a good kisser. I can still feel his lips on mine. Gosh! What the heck is wrong with me. How can his kiss be good. Nope, it was not. It was not at all good but the worst thing I experienced so far. *knocks on the door*

I couldn’t breathe that morning. Not because of a nightmare, smoke, or fear. From him. From that kiss. My first fucking kiss, and it had to be with Lucien Nerezza, of all people. Sleek and cold and calculated one second, and then wrecking me against an archive shelf the next, like he wanted to eat me whole.

“You...” “Nothing happened,” Jessamine rolled her eyes as she assured him. “It was...” She furrowed her forehead as if trying to remember the kiss. “It was just a peck on my lips so I would stop crying because my crush liked someone else, and I hoped to have my first kiss with him that night. Instead, I got my heart broken.” She looked at me and smirked. “That’s how I got my first lousy kiss.” “That bad?” I asked, unsure why my ego was hurt when it had been our joke for almost a decade.