In His Kiss Bridgerton 소설 & 이야기

he assured. He set down his drink and rose from his seat, approaching me. I felt breathless, watching him move with all his charisma. He was undeniably a striking man. He sat down beside me and pulled me close with one hand, saying, "Come here," as he gently cupped my face. I felt a surge of desire coursing through me as our eyes locked, and then we eagerly indulged in a passionate kiss. It felt like an electric shock, and I thought I might explode from the intensity.

"No, I'm actually happy that I'm moving closer to Boston, and I'm excited to start my new job." "You still haven't told me what it is yet…" "And I'm not going to." He brings his mouth to mine and seizes my lips, delicately dominating my mouth with his pierced tongue, making my thoughts about Brixton finally float away. I graze his thigh and scrunch the silky fabric of his sweats in my hand as I deepen the kiss and roughly sink my teeth into his bottom lip. He growls broadly, and I shiver as moisture pools between my thighs.

Hopeless. Then he reappears, holding a plate of food. “Princess, your dreams can’t be this vivid.” He sets the plate down, takes my hand, pulls me upright. My balance falters, but his lips catch me—urgent, consuming, stealing my breath. His kiss is restrained yet magnetic, like he’s holding back a storm only he controls. “I like your house,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice low, dangerous, addictive. “Never thought you’d live in the suburbs. I imagined you in the woods, wild and magical, like you.”

There was that European just now who was passionate enough to swallow her whole. “Good-looking man,” he said. Mrs Tucker sneered at him, “Blackmail, really?” “It's nothing personal, doll.” He smiled, still walking closer towards her. “In fact, I quite admire the passion.” He placed his hand on his chest, showing how affected he was. “I only ever see such things on the big screens. And the way he looked at you just before you both fell into each other’s arms.” Kan groaned, shaking his head and touching his fingers to his lips, “Just chef kiss.”

He was obviously still sulking about what I said earlier so I decided to have mercy on him. “ Lord Kristen Alexander Scott is my ideal man..” I placed my hand on his cheek and for a brief moment he'd forgotten his name before a big smile spread on his face and he leaned in for a kiss which I accepted without hesitation. The kiss started off slowly and soon intensified as he began Trailing his cold fingers through my body. I fidgeted with his buttons and eventually got his shirt off while he planted kisses all over my body. “ This has to go.” He whispered with a hoarse voice as he ripped off the bikini earning a gasp from me..

Then he murmurs, so low the sound is lost in the wind. "Mine." And then, only then, he truly kisses me. It is not a groom's kiss. It is a claim. His tongue asserts itself, possessive, dominating, marking his territory in a language only we understand. It is the kiss from the office, from the floor of his office, from the hotel mirror in Tokyo, concentrated into a few seconds stolen from public view. When he withdraws, my lips are numb, my breath short. Applause erupts, the music swells again. People smile, some wipe away a tear.

Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm yours." He smiled, placing both his palms on my cheeks, and leaned in to smooch my lips. It was a gentle kiss, full of promise and affection. As he stood up, he took my hands and pulled me to my feet. His touch sent electric currents through my body, and I felt alive in a way I had never felt before. "Emma," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I want to show you what it means to truly be mine." His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of hesitation. But all I felt was a thrilling anticipation of what was to come.

I melted in the sweetness of this kiss and his scent. Is this a male stripper... My second chance?!

God. If I’ve met a man who kisses better I don’t recall him, and if I’ve met a man with more charisma I’ve forgotten him for my own good. This guy, he kisses like a champion. He’s gentle until he isn’t, and his hand splayed on my back feels as if it’s branded against my bare spine. It’s a good job his name isn’t actually Stepbrotherbecause I’d have forgotten it.

"I just kissed Adrienne Davison." Adrienne's heart fluttered as she gazed at him, her own smile growing. "Adrienne Davison is yours," she declared.