Fierce Kiss Novels & Stories

The kiss was like a wildfire, igniting a passion that burned bright and fierce between us. Calista responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around my neck as she melted into my embrace. She moaned softly, with her body arching into mine. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity, with my hands skimming through her assets and her hot banging body. Her hands were also roaming over my chest as the kiss deepened. We were lost in the moment and the raw intensity of our fierce love. I could feel the heat rising in our bodies… Alas, we were getting warmer. But this was just the start, and my nostrils flared as I took in her heavenly scent.

Pulled his mouth to mine. The kiss wasn’t gentle. Conflagration. Sealing the vow. Celebration of scorched earth. Fierce, desperate, hungry. Arms locked around me, crushing me against solid, unbound reality. Fingers gripped shoulders, feeling powerful muscles, living proof of defiance. His tongue met mine, shared the claiming taste of coffee, mint, fiercely Damien. Scent of sandalwood, warm musk. Ragged breaths mingling, louder than fading rain. Kiss of liberation, defiance, future seized.

I said gently, “but I wanted to ask you for something.” He looked at me curiously. “What is it?” I looked deeply into his eyes, seeking a genuine connection. “That you, at least, do with me what you would do with Fierce.” Hunter, under the influence of Rue, agreed readily. “Okay.” Then, in an impulse that transcended reason, Hunter held me in his arms, and our lips met in a kiss. For a brief moment, we immersed ourselves in a passionate kiss, and my mind boiled with the sensation that I was somehow gaining control over the situation. Rue, while not completely eliminating Hunter's feelings for Fierce, seemed to make him more susceptible to my suggestions.

This is what I get for not fucking him for a few days. I never thought that his kisses could shift from passionate to ferocious as his harsh behavior was making me feel like he was out of control. We were in the open where wolves passed through the garden without interrupting us. I didn’t give a damn, and neither did he. The kiss felt like he had unleashed his beast. I grab his hair with an extreme force that caught him off guard and I take that moment to kiss him back fiercely. Unleashing my wolf would lead to some hedonistic behavior that I preferred to have in the bedroom or office. I was challenging him with my comeback kiss. I bite his lip hard which made him hiss in pain.

Vulnerable. And yet— Here he was, fingers locked around my wrist with possessive strength, his mouth crashing into mine with a hunger so fierce it felt feral, as though the beast beneath his skin had risen despite torn flesh and broken bone, recognizing something it refused to lose. The kiss was not gentle. It was claiming.

With every press of their lips, her kiss burned with a fiery anger, a way for her to regain a semblance of control. In the heat of the moment, their mouths clashed in a storm of emotions. Daphne's fervor was palpable, her actions fueled by a dark intensity that seemed to consume both of them. As their lips met in an aggressive dance, it was clear that this kiss was not an act of affection but a manifestation of anger and manipulation. Dara responded, pulled into the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. It was a kiss that held no tenderness, no softness. Instead, it was a clash of wills, a struggle for dominance masked in the guise of physical connection

Enzo groaned, a dark, desperate sound, and slammed his lips directly onto mine. ​The kiss was angry, fierce, and completely out of control. It wasn't gentle at all. He devoured my mouth with a terrifyingly possessive hunger, his tongue forcing its way inside, claiming me as if he were starving. I gasped against his mouth, my mind spinning into complete chaos as his familiar taste flooded my senses. He gripped my waist with bruising force, pulling my hips flush against his hard, heavy length. I wanted to fight him off, I wanted to push him away for being so unfair, but my hands instinctively moved up his chest, tangling into his thick hair.

Her lips parted, the word balancing on the edge of her tongue stop. But it never came. Instead, she tilted her face ever so slightly, closing the distance. His fingertips brushed her skin, light as a whisper, and in the next breath, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was fierce, consuming, like he’d been holding himself back for too long and could no longer bear it. And Grace God help her kissed him back with equal fire, all her walls collapsing in a rush of heat and hunger. When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Damien’s forehead rested against hers.

Before I could decipher the change in him, he turned back, his gaze now burning with a fierce intensity that made me instinctively take a step back. And then, he crashed his lips against mine again, but this time the kiss was different. It was hard, demanding, almost brutal in its intensity. It wasn’t a tender acknowledgment; it was a claiming, a desperate assertion. His hands gripped my arms, his fingers digging into my skin, holding me captive. His mouth moved over mine with a raw possessiveness, a stark contrast to the poignant tenderness of the kiss we had just shared. It felt like a furious denial of the unspoken farewell that hung between us.

"Tell me you want me here. Now." "God, yes," she gasped, her hips rolling against his. "I want you. I've always wanted you." That was all the consent he needed. His kiss was not gentle. It was a claiming. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting of night air and wild energy. It was fierce and desperate, a century of longing poured into a single, searing connection. She met his fury with her own, her nails scoring down his bare back, feeling the flex of muscle beneath his cool skin.