Collarbone Kisses Novels & Stories

The doors opened at 8:47. "Something smells good." His voice arrived before he did — low, unhurried, the voice of a man who assumed he'd be listened to and was never wrong. Dominic Moretti filled doorways the way most men filled chairs. Broad. Still. The particular stillness of someone who had never needed to raise his voice to make a room go quiet. He had a fresh cut on his jaw. Lena looked at it for one second. Then looked back at the tomatoes. "You're bleeding," she said

She bowed her head, presenting her throat to him in the ultimate gesture of surrender. A sound of pure, dark triumph escaped him. He fastened the collar around her neck. The leather was cool, then warm against her skin. The fit was perfect, snug, unyielding, a constant pressure. The platinum plaque settled just above her collarbone, a cold, hard declaration. He hooked a finger under the collar and pulled her to him, crushing his lips to hers in a searing, possessive kiss. “Mine,” he growled against her mouth. “Finally, completely, unquestionably mine.”

His lips lingered and roamed over her honeyed lips, sucking in the sweetness between her lips and teeth. Then he slid down, lingering at her collarbone, parted his lips, and pressed them against her skin. Adrian gently pecked at the tender flesh between Sarah’s delicate collarbones, sucking and licking it. In no time, a kiss mark resembling a plum blossom appeared. It was pink to the point of redness—a blush so vivid it was almost embarrassing. Anyone with eyes could tell exactly what had happened. Adrian pressed his lips against Sarah’s earlobe, biting it gently as he murmured in a hoarse voice,

It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed like this, like it’s not foreplay, but an enjoyable activity in itself. I feel his hand reach underneath my shoulder, and then I see him pull out a bone-shaped toy. He tosses it on the floor. I can’t help but giggle as he presses an open-mouthed kiss on the skin near the edge of my sweatshirt. He chuckles too and then runs his tongue in the dip between my collarbones, making me groan. I caress his hair, run my hands through his curls and press him closer to me. “Like you. So much. You’re so fit,” he whispers against my chest.

Lips and tongues collided as our bodies pressed together. His lips ventured from mine, kissing and caressing down the side of my neck until he found the super-sensitive spot just under my jaw and ear. The rough stubble of his chin scraped at my skin in the most tantalizing way, making me moan and writhe for more. Yet, the only thing I could do was to let my head fall back and drink in ever exquisite sensation of his mouth on my skin. I wanted more. So much more.

Their kiss felt like forever, unable to breathe, she pushed him, scraping his neck. And that’s when … he saw it. The Ring.

“Do you remember the anagrams in the pinball machine? Words are traps for ideas. I don’t need to say them because you already know.” “How will I know if you don’t say them?” “Because it’s our hearts that are speaking to each other.” “I see…” Sasha blushed. Normally timid, this time he bent down slightly to kiss Aki on the forehead. Aki closed her eyes at the gentle, cold touch of his lips. “You tell me this now?” she whispered. Afterwards, they both walked out of the antechamber into separate rooms and their shy glances over their shoulders were the last they ever saw of each other.

"Oh, she's still bluffing. Fine. If she's really dead, then call the priest for a ritual. Toss her corpse into the sea and let her see where playing dead gets her." His cruelty sickened me. I desperately sought to elevate my soul, to distance myself from him. However, an unseen tether held me fast, dragging me inexorably back. And then I realized—the force binding me wasn't Connor himself, but the wolf-spirit bracelet he wore. The bracelet, woven from wolf bone and silver thread, was an ancient relic of my father. More than that, it was the token of love I had once given Connor. I used to be like Cinderella, that pitiful girl.

“And I won’t unchoose it because it’s inconvenient.” His jaw tightened. “I won’t let you be collateral.” “I’m not collateral,” I said. “I’m a participant.” That landed. He reached for me then, pulling me in with a hand at my lower back, solid and sure. The kiss was slower than the night before, deeper. Less tentative. Like we were already past the point of asking what this was. I pressed closer, grounding him. Feeling the tension in his shoulders, the way it slowly eased under my hands.