Cuddles Kisses Novels & Stories

His lips press to my forehead as I tuck my hands between the fabric of his jacket and his t-shirt. “Missed you, Goldie,” he mutters against my skin. “Missed you more.” He cups my face between his large hands, softly pulling my chin so our eyes meet. “Not possible.” I smile, lifting to my tiptoes so I can feel the press of his lips against mine. The kiss is tender and sweet. We aren’t rushing to have an intimate moment like we usually do. It’s hard to find a second alone together between our friends and family, so most of our kisses are late at night under the moonlight or in his bed. Sometimes we manage to sneak some in the stalls, or in one of the barns, or in the trees on a ride. But those

he murmurs from his knees. I grin and reach for his soaked sweater. “Come here,” I whisper, pulling him closer to me, craving the taste of his lips against mine. The moment our mouths meet, it's like striking a match—everything ignites. His kiss is fierce, electric, and all-consuming. My hands move eagerly, tugging his sweater over his head, followed by his t-shirt, both landing forgotten as the warm spray of the shower rains over us.

And…panties melted. “So.” I took a breath when I looked up at him because he stepped even closer, only a breath away. “We’re…We’re really going to…?” I turned too breathless to finish the question. He grinned wolfishly. “Oh yeah,” he answered. “We’re definitely going to.” When his lips pressed against mine, a buzz of desire ricocheted through me with startling awareness. Why were his kisses so freaking potent? I swear, his tongue was laced with an aphrodisiac because I latched on to it and immediately moved closer, needing more.

The world ceased to exist; it was just Kayden, Jayden and I, intertwined in a passionate embrace that spoke volumes of our shared love. Kayden's lips were soft, tender, as they moved in sync with mine, each brush a melody that sent shivers of pleasure down my spine. Jayden's kiss was intense, fervent, as though each touch, each caress was a silent confession of his love. It was a symphony of emotions, the notes echoing through the silence, leaving us breathless. But just as things were about to escalate, as I felt my knees weakening and my senses blurring, a series of coughs echoed through the room, jarring us back to reality.

Sparse gray hair framed her gaunt, elderly face. When she saw Marigold and me walking hand in hand, with Daniel, now toddling along, her lifeless, dull eyes suddenly flared with astonishment. It was like a brief flicker of life in a dying flame. I smiled before saying, "Ms. Callaghan, I almost forgot to tell you—today marks 23 years since Mari and I met. Don't you think it's a wonderful day to celebrate?" "You… You…" Florence stammered, but no coherent words came out.

Each kiss is intense, a mix of pain and pleasure. "Damn it!" He swears, his hot gaze burning into my exposed chest. His breath is heavy, his eyes filled with desire. "You belong to me, Louise. You can't escape," he whispers, silencing any protest with his soft, warm lips. Our kiss is passionate, intense, and I can't help but respond. Lost in pleasure, I hear a noise but ignore it. I close my eyes, savoring every touch of his lips. "That's right, Louise," he murmurs. "You're stunning when you're filled with desire. I want to see it again when you climax on my..." His words are interrupted as the door bursts open, revealing two unexpected visitors.

By the third kiss, her lips moved hesitantly against mine, soft and unsure, but she was trying. Relief unfurled in my chest like a gentle wave as I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers. Soft and hesitant at first, the kisses were light—testing, exploring. By the third kiss, Isabella's lips began to move beneath mine, cautious but willing. A quiet sound escaped her, so soft it was almost imperceptible, and she closed her eyes. The small gesture sent a ripple through me, a mix of triumph and tenderness. Her trust, though tentative, was there.

The intensity of the kiss carried a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness, and for a chance to make amends. In that instant, their lips collided in a fervent dance, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between them. The kiss spoke volumes, transcending words as their tongues intertwined and their bodies pressed against each other. It was a raw and passionate exchange, fueled by the tumultuous emotions that had consumed them both.

She pushed the lamb around with her fork, barely tasting the one bite she forced down. Dante ate with precise, unhurried movements. The rhythm of his knife slicing through meat, the deliberate clink of his fork against porcelain, was maddeningly calm. It was as though nothing in the world could disturb him. Finally, his voice broke the silence. “Do you know why I demanded that kiss from you?” Her fork froze midway to her mouth. She set it down carefully, her throat tightening. “Because you enjoy controlling people?” A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “Control is useful, yes. But a kiss…” He leaned back, his eyes glinting. “A kiss doesn’t lie. Your lips tell me more than your words ever will

His lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment before fully committing to the kiss. Avery's breath hitched as their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss. Cruz's lips were soft and warm, moving against hers with a gentle but insistent pressure. The kiss was a dance, a slow and sensual exploration of each other's desires. It was as if Cruz was pouring all of his emotions into that kiss, letting her feel the depth of his affection and the intensity of his feelings.