Novel & Cerita Dementor's Kiss Harry Potter

The more you care, the more you have to loose. ~Harry Potter, Order of Phoenix •• Noor wasn't sure if she wanted to be annoyed, angry, happy or disappointed. The flirty playful guy she had met twice on accident was actually the Mr. Umar Lukuwa she was supposed to meet.

On his black bookshelf sat a comic book collection that would make Kiaan jealous as well as books with symbols—some of which she recognised from Damien's jewellery. "So from what you said, it sounds like you guys were trying to summon an Alastor," he said as if the solution were obvious. "Exactly what I was thinking," Jess joked. Malus laughed. "These things usually last for a limited time." After going to his shelf and selecting a black covered book. When he opened it up, Jess saw it was full of handwritten script and drawings. He licked his thumb and flicked through the thick, off-white sheets. "Ah, did you notice if there was a full moon at the night of the spell?" he asked.

The intensity between us grew, a spark that started in my chest, as it had before for him, only this time it grew with each long look and his gentle fingers pressed against my wrists. He leaned in and kissed my nose. He hovered there and I didn't move. He tilted his head, kissing my lips. I remained still, kissing him back. It was a light kiss, but he kept it going soft and steady. His tongue teased my lips and I welcomed it. He made a delightful noise and leaned into me, tongue darting into my mouth. I leaned far back trying not to fall. My hand searched for something to hold to, I grabbed hold of his shoulder and then the back of his neck.

She tasted blood and him, and to her shock, she kissed back, her hands tangling in his braids. But as the kiss deepened, something shifted in Gorak. This fire in his veins, this addiction blooming with every taste of her sweet mouth, her tight heat, it confused him. Was this the legend of the women from Slytherin? They whispered that the first taste was poisonously addictive, a siren’s call that bound even the strongest warriors. He wanted to own her completely, mark her as his forever, never let another touch her. Breaking the kiss, he stared down at her with those molten amber eyes, breath ragged. “Do you submit to me, little sun? Will you be my mate, bound to me, body and soul?”

The satisfied growl I heard—deep and low—echoed straight between my legs, heating my skin and making my entire body tremble with anticipation. I had sealed my fate. His hand rose, gripping my neck firmly. The gesture was rough and dominating, but it didn’t hurt. The hold was just strong enough to make it clear who was in control. His eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam crossing his red irises before he crushed his lips against mine in a possessive, savage, demanding kiss. It wasn’t an ordinary kiss. It was the kiss of the Supreme Alpha. Of his wolf. And of Daimon. All in one, claiming what was theirs.

Kael’s jaw tightened. Harry chuckled low, stepping closer to me. “Good, tell them, own it. You are not their doll to control. You are fire, and fire cannot be caged.” Headmistress Morwen slammed her staff against the floor, magic crackling in the air. “Enough!” she roared. “Aria Blackwell, you are hereby—” “Try it,” Harry cut in, his tone soft but deadly. The air in the hall froze. Even Headmistress Morwen stood still,her eyes narrowed at him.

he murmurs, his voice low and husky. With a sudden burst of passion, Dexter lunged towards her, his lips meeting hers in a searing kiss that left her reeling. The urgency of his embrace caught her off guard, and she found herself gasping for air as his kisses consumed her. It was as if he were trying to devour her, to claim her as his own.

He felt as if his male ego had been challenged, making him look aggressive like a tiger who had found its prey. Before Alexa realized what was happening, she had been pressed to the wall with Morgan's lips kissing hers in a domineering kiss. ‘It was over! She had successfully provoked this big devil.’

"Good, girl." Xavier immediately captures my lips in an explosive kiss, a collision of pent-up emotion and passion. This is not just a kiss; it's a declaration of war against my sanity. His tongue sweeps across my lips with possessive demand, forcing me to open up and accept his complete dominance. I let out a soft moan, my hands weaving into his hair, pulling him closer until no air remains between us. The kiss is hot and wild, tasting like a burning, potent fragrance. Each touch of his lips seems to absorb all the wounds of betrayal I felt, replacing them with electric sparks that burn through my nerves. His steel-hard embrace is the only thing that feels real and dizzying.

“If it’s another dead animal, I’m lighting you on fire.” “Lesson learned,” I muttered, then revealed the flower. A single flamepetal, its orange-red glow still faintly pulsing. “Rare, sacred to witches, grows only during solstice droughts. I had to hike halfway up Blackthorn Hill to get it.” She blinked. “You brought me a flamepetal?” “Well,” I said. “I didn’t climb a hill for my health.” She crossed her arms. “So is this flirting or apologizing?” “Both,” I said without missing a beat.