Novel & Cerita Hungry Kisses

The fox will grant you what you’ve been searching As long as you bring something someone else has been missing. Ah, but I digress… This one should let you rest. Just sit back, enjoy the bliss You will experience Here at the inn called Chocolate Kiss!

He crashed his lips onto mine again, harder this time, so much more desperate. This kiss was completely different from the first one. This one wasn't gentle or hesitant or careful. This one was hungry, almost frantic, like he'd been holding himself back for so long and finally just couldn't anymore. He kissed me like he was starving and I was the only thing that could satisfy him. Like I was oxygen and he'd been holding his breath underwater for years, finally breaking the surface and gasping for air.

“You don’t love me. You love control.” His thumb brushed her hand, his gaze burning into her. “And yet, when I kiss you, your body betrays you.” Her breath caught. Rage tangled with shame. “That doesn’t mean anything.” Dante stepped closer, pressing her back against the railing, his voice a whisper at her lips. “It means everything.” Then he kissed her. Not ritual. Not warning. This kiss was hungry, desperate—his claim written in fire and silk. His mouth devoured hers, dragging her into a storm she couldn’t escape.

Good. “Names,” Viktor ordered. The first to step forward was a tall brunette with a scar across her cheek like she’d survived a bomb. She wore black cargo pants and combat boots like she meant business. “Kira,” she said in a flat voice. “Explosives. Don’t get in my fucking way.” I raised an eyebrow. “Try not to blow yourself up, and we’ll get along just fine.” She didn’t react. Ice cold. Next was a blonde with ceand ekbones sharp enough to cut glass and dark lipstick that screamed trouble. She looked like she enjoyed pain, mostly giving it.

His kiss was sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell. I didn't want to fall for another tourist. You're not falling, I told myself. You're simply enjoying. I knew he was going to leave and I would be sad. But I would also be far more disappointed if I missed this. His kiss was insistent, intoxicating, and driving me insane. I wanted to melt into him and let him melt into me. I wanted to kiss every inch of his skin. Every inch.

Arlo asked, “I know I fucked up by not… what should I do so you can forgive me quickly?” I bit my lower lips, “Kiss me! Kiss me like you have been hungry for it. Injure me with kisses, eat me up mercilessly, ruin my lips and leave it swollen…” Arlo walked towards me, “I've actually been hungry for it.” He dragged me closer, our lips met in a passionate kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, and I could feel his hunger for me as he devoured my lips. His tongue danced across mine, sending shivers down my spine. His desire for me grew with each passing moment.

Hunter looked down at me with so much love in his eyes as he placed a kiss on my lips. The kiss was soft but became more needy like he thought he would never kiss my lips again. I welcomed the kiss and let him immediately gain entry as our tongues mingled and sparks erupted heading towards my core as my body felt like it was on fire. Hunter pulled away eyes now darken with lust and need. “I thought you were going to reject me.” He says with so much sadness.

Might want to call the cops. "Honey, who are you texting?" Chester snarled, his face twisted into something dark and chilling by the phone's glow. This whole new life spiel was nothing but a con. I was trapped in a real-life Truman Show. I lashed out with a fierce kick at Chester. He screamed in agony, doubling over, his face a mask of pain. "Chester!"

Hunter let go of her hand and put the other one on her cheek, completely holding her face to tilt it further and kiss her deeply. Her mouth opened more fully under his. He lifted her chin and drank from her, took deep kisses that tormented them both. His manner of kissing was intoxicating, leaving her on a knife's edge. The hurt part within her urged her to push him apart. But the hungry part-- the part that still missed him controlled her body, keeping her in place.

Zara said, breathless with something like courage, “if we don’t make it—” He cut her off with a sharp, rough kiss. It was not gentle. It was not ceremonial. It was the kind of hunger that had been starved for seasons. It was a claim and an apology rolled into a single motion. She answered because there was nowhere else to put the fear. Their mouths were fierce and immediate, each kiss an insurance against the world’s hunger.