Ghosts Kissing Novels & Stories

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.

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

he whispers. Without breaking the kiss, he guides us to the hood of his car, gently lowering me onto it as my legs wrap around his waist. His lips move from my jaw to mine, and we engage in a passionate kiss. His hands rest on my hips, while mine tangle in his hair. Our tongues eventually tire, but we continue to share soft, lingering kisses. One of his hands moves to the back of my head, and the other cups my cheek. I reciprocate by holding his face in my hands. It's reminiscent of what happened in Drew's shower two weeks ago but intensified.

His messy hair is styled in a different style, slightly wavy and breathtaking. I keep staring at him as he closes in on me, expecting him to vanish. He is only a ghost. A ghost that has never looked so vibrant and alive before. "You're awake." He drops the tray on a small table beside my bed and leans in to plant a small kiss on my forehead. My heart beat triples as he does so. Are ghosts supposed to have physical contacts with other humans? And why does his kiss feel so real and unimaginary? I watch as he places his weight beside me on the bed and gently takes my hand into his.

His breath hitched at my touch, a low groan escaping his lips as I leaned in closer, my lips hovering just inches from his own. In that moment, the world fell away, consumed by the intensity of our shared desire. Our lips met in a searing kiss, a passionate collision of lips and tongues that left us both breathless and wanting more. It was a dance as old as time itself, a primal instinct that transcended rational thought and reason.

It got to a point where the female lead had an encounter with the ghost am, and Lola immediately jumped on him with her eyes closed, jerking in fear. It was when she had gotten herself that she realized she was on him, as he rubs her back, their eyes met as he turned his gaze to her lips, he bent forward to kiss her and surprisingly she didn't bulge or move, his plan was working. He pressed his lips on hers as she reciprocated the kiss, he took the remote, turned off the television, and lay down fully on the bed with Lola on top of him.

I'd hit triple digits. Proposal number one hundred. Same spot—County Clerk's Office, Borevia City. Same result—empty sidewalk, empty heart. Sonia Quindt? Off somewhere with Pierre Sanchez. Her boy toy. Could be a concert. Could be an amusement park. Didn't matter. She wasn't here. Once, they'd even rolled up to the Clerk's Office themselves—married on a dare, divorced by brunch. For fun. What I'd dreamed of, they'd trashed for kicks.

A ghost of affection. Then, like a storm breaking upon quiet fields, he claimed her mouth with his own—devouring, desperate, drowning. A kiss not meant to ask, but to conquer. It was war, passion, and sorrow woven into one breathless collision.

I mumbled. “What's a kissing spell?” he sounded curious. “Oh, that?” I laughed faintly, “Just a family curse… In short, I kissed you. Now, if you don't kiss me back before my 30th birthday, I will die… or I can give up on my magic…” I chuckled and looked at him. He became serious. He moved closer to me. “Is that all? All I have to do is kiss you?” he slowly leaned over me. “N-no…” I gulped seeing his face inches away from mine, “You… would have to feel something towards me… The kiss should carry equally intense emotions… as the ones I felt when I gave you mine…”

My lips met his in a hungry, desperate clash, a collision of suppressed longing and explosive desire. In that instant, as our mouths fused, I was reminded of all the things I hadn't felt in days, in weeks, perhaps even months. It wasn’t just physical sensation; it was a profound sense of connection, a recognition that transcended his current amnesia. We were kissing each other like animals, driven by pure instinct, by a primal hunger that had been suppressed for far too long. There was no gentleness, no tender affection, only a fierce dance of sucking, biting, moaning, and groaning.