In His Kiss Bridgerton Novels & Stories

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.”

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.

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.

My hands found their way clenching his tux as I tried to keep my knees up and steady. Shit, he kisses like a hungry beast deprived of water his entire life. My head went delirious as he finally pulled back and the only thing I heard was a series of applause. Shit, I actually married Konstantin Morozov.

He saw the way my bright, glowing face dimmed. He saw the way I shrank beneath Annaida’s smirk. He noticed Alex’s hand on my shoulder. And something shifted in him. He took a step back from Annaida, nodded politely to the chief guest — a legendary boxer who’d come to present the official title belt — and thanked him quickly. Then he turned. Walked straight toward me. And kissed me. Right there, in front of everyone. His kiss was firm. Warm. Claiming. Yet it felt like a subtle slap from Damon to Annaida for hurting me.

His warm breath still lingers on my lips, and I can't help but notice the sweet, strawberry flavor of his kiss. I'm stunned, wondering if I've lost my mind or if he's gone crazy. Just moments ago, he was meticulous about germs, and now he's kissing me without warning? It doesn't add up! He wears a confident smile, his arm cocked on his hip as he gazes at me, daring me to deny the obvious. "Go ahead, say you didn't love every second of that kiss," he taunts. I remain silent, my eyes fixed on him, reminded of his notorious reputation as a womanizer. How could I have forgotten that Petal is a serial flirt, always chasing his next conquest?

Placing a hand under my chin, he lifted my face and gently kissed me. One hand moved up to cup the back of my neck, gently tugging me closer. I melted into his kiss, savoring the taste of him. He must have had a sip of whiskey to loosen himself before the party, because he tasted faintly of it. Although his kiss alone was intoxicating enough for me.

“Oh my God…….what the hell have I gotten myself into? Why did I kiss you?” “Let’s not pretend you didn’t enjoy it, Charlotte.” “Enjoyed it?” I scoffed. “Please, your lips taste like ground sandpaper mixed with sawdust.” I swear I saw his nose scrunch up. “That’s quite the mix.” “Exactly.” For a second, the silence hangs between us again. Until he speaks, “What are you doing here?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, here, in my company……you’re a student all the way in the DC. But you’re here in Vegas……why?”

His tongue seeks for entrance and the tiniest resistance that I have is now gone. He’s hot and powerful. The same British boy that will make you bend for them to devour you. His naughty hands began to ravish my breast even with the tiny clothes. “ Ah. Fuck, miss.” He growls before I can feel him lifting me up to his body and walking at a gentle pace. We’ve landed on the couch where some of his friends are laughing and enjoying their drinks. He pulls my body closer. “Don’t mind them,” he said with a British accent before he makes me sit on his lap and continues the kiss. The crowd that we are in cheers for the free live show and this brute grins, enjoying himself.