Excuses For Hickeys On Chest Novels & Stories

I grazed my index finger on them. I was inexperienced in romance, but I knew what these looked like. These looked like hickeys. I pulled my t-shirt and my eyes widened. There were four more hickeys on my both breasts. What the fuck! I was sure these weren’t allergic reaction or any insect bite. God! What happened to me for real? I woke up with love bites all over my neck and breasts and with my core wet and slippery. I didn’t even touch myself. Then what the hell was it?

he told me. I ignored him. He stroked the tiny hickeys on my neck to the collar bone. He was so eager of me that’s why I have those little hickeys on my body. I know it’s bad because of my health. I have anemia, but if he don’t know that it’s okay. That’s not yet enough for all the sufferings he had. I sniffed while eating my ice cream. I felt him kick me. I wiped my tears while my mouth is still full of ice cream.

as if someone was piercing my heart when I asked them both, I felt their pain again that day. I Trusted them, "We need your money," Carline said and avoided my gaze. "For what?" I ask and that's when she started crying and open the button of her polo shirt. "What are you doing?" I asked and immediately, did he intend to undress in front of Hector! Hector stopped me and held my hand. I sat down and looked at Carline's chest, I gasp when I saw a stitches marks on her chest. What is this?

he left the room. Sasha let out the breath she had no idea she has been holding, she turned to the mirror again, her eyes staring at the hickey in horror. She can't believe this, Craig gave her a hickey? How could he give her a hickey? She took off her top to look all over her body, praying not to see another one. But luck wasn't on her side for there was a big reddish mark on her left breast, sobs choked her as she stared at it in the mirror.

, I asked him. He blinked at me twice and then started unbuttoning his shirt. That was exactly what I wanted to see. His entire chest was filled with red hickeys, some must be so strong that he almost had created a blood clot there. I walked to him and removed the shirt from his arm and then I moved my hand on his burning scars. His facial expression did change which means he was in pain but there was more to it. I sat on the ground keeping my hand on his thigh and said avoiding an eye contact,

I heard his sharp intake of breath and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for his disgust. "Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet. I opened my eyes to see him staring at my ribs, where I knew the worst of the old bruises were still visible. My arms were covered in small scars from years of "accidents," and I was so thin that every bone showed. "They didn't mean to," I said quickly. "I'm just clumsy, and I eat too much, and.." "Stop," he said firmly. "Don't make excuses for them."

I inhaled the steam from the water and let it drop down my face, calming me from my rush. I remembered the hickey on her neck and smirked again, then looked down to see if she had by chance done the same to me, but no, my skin looked flawless as always. I was never a fan of getting hickeys anyways, it meant that I wouldn’t be able to score again for at least another week. No woman is going to want to go home with a man with love bites all over him, that just screams “man-whore.” Besides, hickeys are like mankind’s version of marking their territory. It was a sort of, ‘I gave her a love bite so she’s mine,’ type of thing, and I’ve never liked it when a woman did that to me.

As he hesitated, torn between the impulse to resist and the desire to comply, I seized the moment to carefully examine his neck. The sight of the numerous hickeys adorning his skin sent a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through me. How intense must my hunger had been to leave such a visible trail? There was a mix of exhilaration and embarrassment as I beheld the tangible evidence of our passion. What had driven me to mark him so extensively?

' I teasingly reply with one hand while casually looking in my closet. I wasn’t kidding about the marks. I’ve got at least two hickeys on my neck and two, maybe three more on my chest. It looks like it’s a turtleneck type of day. This makes me feel like I’m a damn teenager for goodness’s sake. 'Well, hot damn. I'm impressed!' clapping emojis a mile long. 'You and me both. That was... something else.' I shyly reply as I turn on the shower, waiting for it to get warm.

Muscles shifted as he leaned over me, pulling the sheet down slowly, exposing my neck, my collarbone and the curve of my breast. There were marks everywhere. Dark purple hickeys on the side of my neck. A faint bite mark just below my earlobe. Reddish bruises on my inner thighs where his fingers had gripped too hard. One perfect thumbprint on my hip. I stared. Heat crawled up my chest. “You… did all this last night?” He traced one of the hickeys with his fingertip. “Yes.” I swallowed. “People are going to see.” “Let them,” he said nonchalantly.