Drunk Kisses Novels & Stories

Everything felt wrong but I could not stop wanting to feel his lips on mine. Without leaving my cheek, he brought his lips toward me but stopped at a distance as if he was asking me for permission. Instead of pulling myself away, I shut my eyes, and then it happened. My heart skipped a beat when his lips touched mine. It was so good that it felt unreal. I kissed him back with the same passion and he deepened his kiss in which I lost myself. It happened. I got my first kiss from a mafia heir.

Before I could collect my thoughts, he surged forward and claimed my lips. The kiss was hot, wet, and utterly consuming. His lips pressed against mine with a firm dominance that left no room for hesitation. I gasped in shock, and he took full advantage, his tongue slipping past my parted lips to explore my mouth with skill that made my head spin. The faint bitterness of alcohol mingled with his natural sweetness, creating an intoxicating blend that left me dizzy. Kyven completely dominated the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a way that felt overwhelming yet thrilling. It was messy and unrestrained, his teeth grazing my lower lip as he deepened the kiss with an urgency that demanded my

“Do you want it to be?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate. It said everything he couldn’t say in words. I kissed back slowly, letting the question melt. When we broke apart, neither of us moved. He was the first to speak. “That felt... right.” I nodded. “It did.” He bit his lip. “So?” “So?” I echoed. He leaned back, tucking his head under moonlight. “So... what is this then? Casual, serious, somewhere in between?”

This time, waves are splashing more calmly than before, as if it got tired from all the aggressive slamming, so it decided to rest. I breathed in the chilly breeze of the sea and felt my body relaxing. I reached to untie my hair and let my brunette locks dance with the gentle wind. Removing my black jacket which exposed the maxi dress I wore underneath, I welcomed the icy temperature to course through my system. Doing so cleared my dark thoughts and consoled my weary heart.

I looked into his blue windows of the soul, and knew that he was being completely genuine. I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. As my tongue darted into his mouth, I could taste the coconut liquor on his lips, and I drank him in. He returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping his hands around my back and bringing me in closer. I pulled him into me, his skin smooth on my fingers. We broke from the kiss and I marveled at his huge pecs and abs, eying him hungrily. I knew he was looking at me the same way, and it turned me on.

“No matter what. I’d always come back.” And then, he pulled her in, and their lips met in a kiss that was unlike any they’d ever shared before. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or desire, not exactly. It was a kiss of survival, a kiss of gratitude, a kiss that said I’m here, you’re here, we made it. It was a kiss that tasted of smoke and tears and cold water, but it was also a kiss that tasted of love, of hope, of the future that was still waiting for them.

It’s a silent, breathtaking reversal of dominance. He lowers his head and our mouths crash together, brutal and consuming. His kiss is a declaration of war, fueled by the scotch he’s been drinking, the fury of the slap, and the pent-up denial of the last four days. His tongue plunges into my mouth, possessive and rough, tasting the wine, the lingering resentment, and the sharp copper of my own blood.

I wondered if anybody I knew from school was out there, celebrating the New Year in as much style as it felt like I was. "Your place is--" She interrupted me with a kiss. The Champagne bubbles had barely evaporated off my tongue before I was tasting her again, our tongues entwined. She broke the kiss to take my glass, setting it down beside hers on the counter, before cupping my face and kissing me again, lifting her leg to my hip and leaning into me. She was drunk, I could tell. Not sloppy, or anything, but definitely buzzed. Not that I minded, and I helped myself to two handfuls of Aunt Theresa's ass, playing with the sequins, flipping them up and down with my fingers as we made out by the

God, why does he have to be such a good kisser? ​Due to the lack of oxygen, I was forced to pull away, but Draven didn’t stop there. Instead, he started leaving a trail of hot kisses along my jawline and down to my neck, nibbling and sucking on my soft spot before moving up and kissing the corner of my lips, then back to my neck again, making my whole body quiver in pleasure. I gasped when he squeezed my thighs and tugged on the skin of my neck, causing me to moan again. No, this was getting too intense and I have to control myself...but I can’t, and I don’t want to.

"I did give you everything." "No," Katerina said. She moved with precision and fury and heartbreak. "I gave myself to you. And I'm taking it back." She landed a devastating blow. Dimitri went down to one knee. He looked up at her and laughed. Actually laughed. "You still don't understand. You can never escape me. I'm in your bones. I'm in every breath. I own you." "You did," Katerina said. Her voice was hollow. Final. "But she doesn't. And that's enough."