Kill Him With A Kiss Novels & Stories

But I don’t want tender so I made it rough. The kiss deepened, a primal energy surged between us, igniting a sinister desire that I couldn't ignore. I felt his lips move hungrily against mine, his touch setting my skin ablaze with a fiery passion. Suddenly, Killian pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with a fierce intensity. With a low, guttural growl, he whispered, "Mate," sending a shiver down my spine.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear in a surprisingly tender gesture. “Good girl,” he whispered, voice hoarse with satisfaction. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my shoulder. “But we’re nowhere near done.” He slowly pulled out of me, and I whimpered pathetically at the sudden emptiness, feeling the warm rush of his cum immediately start to pour from my well-fucked, gaping hole. Killian turned me around gently, his strong hands lifting me effortlessly onto the marble countertop. He stepped between my spread thighs and kissed me deeply—slow, possessive, and claiming—his tongue tangling with mine while his hand slid between my legs.

This was the part she'd trained for, where sentiment died and only numbers mattered. "No," she said. The operative paused. "No?" "Tell Reza no." Confusion flickered across his face. "You understand I have authorization to terminate you both." "I understand." Dominic stepped forward and his hand found the small of her back, deliberate and loud. A statement of intent. Whatever came next, he was choosing her. The operative watched with genuine interest. "He doesn't know who you are, and he's choosing you. That's almost romantic." He looked at Dominic. "She's killed people. Not in self-defense. For the organization. Are you aware you're in love with a murderer?"

In that quiet room, with the sound of the gala fading into the background, the tension between them snapped like a taut wire. She reached up, grabbing the lapels of his tuxedo, and pulled him down to her. His lips crashed against hers, hard and desperate, and she kissed him back with equal fervor. It wasn’t a soft, tender kiss of love—it was a kiss of possession, of all the anger, frustration, longing, and fear that had built up between them for months. It was a way to claim each other, to say you’re mine even when they were fighting, to hold onto something real in a world that felt chaotic and unsteady. Liam’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, his body pressing against hers.

There was just the blood in the snow and loud silence in my head. I searched. I begged. I even went to the old ones, asking if she’d turned. No one had seen her, or maybe they had and lied to protect me from the truth that I had killed the only person who’d ever loved me. I pressed my forehead to the bark and whispered the words that had become a prayer to me since then. “I won’t do that again.” Not to Isabella. Especially not to her. I had let myself believe I could be with her. That a night in her bed wouldn’t unravel centuries of restraint. But the moment I tasted her skin, I knew I’d made a mistake.

His thumbs slid upward, dragging slowly over the fabric of my shirt, grazing the sensitive undersides of my breasts. I gasped quietly. My chest hitched. He lowered his head. His rough stubble scratched my cheek. His hot breath washed over my ear. "Break every piece of glass in this house," Killian whispered. His voice was a dark, rough rasp that vibrated against my skin. "Tear my room apart. Fight me. Scream at me. I love the fire in your eyes, Doll." He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the side of my neck. He sucked gently on the skin, a claiming, intense touch that made my legs feel weak.

he murmured. With trembling hands, I reached for his tie, my tears flowing freely down my cheeks. "Kiss me… Or… let me kiss you." Tucker's eyes darkened, his calm facade slipping away. He said nothing in response. But before I could react, he leaned in close. Holding the back of my neck, he pressed his lips firmly to mine. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. Instead, it brimmed with a sense of ownership and power. Without hesitation, he pried my jaws apart. His tongue explored boldly, leaving no corner of my mouth untouched.

Rashka commanded, his voice dark with malice. Rashka moved through the field, his eyes cold and calculating, ready for the reason he was there. Destruction. His title as the Alpha with the Kiss of Death was well-earned. He approached each of the enemy soldiers, gripping them by their hands. They immediately lose their will once they come in contact with Rashka's touch, kneeling at his feet. Rashka leans in and places a deadly kiss on them. The soldiers' eyes widened in horror before they collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

she looked at his hazel eyes. Chris caressed her cheeks, "I was in need of caress and when I saw the love of my life walk to the restroom, I couldn't help myself." Kimberly pushed his palms away from her cheeks, "and we ended up doing more than caress." "Don't tell me that you regret it," he looked anywhere but not her, "because I don't." He was telling the truth and she knew it, "I don't and I'll never do that." He pecked her lips.

I took in a breath and watched Sophie's eyes flutter open. Her pupils were dilated. She licked along her bottom lip before casting me a bright smile. Kiss 💋 three hundred and fifty-two "With my Chelsea against the auditorium wall." I held my breath, waiting for the next line. The glint in Sophie's eyes told me that the words that I hoped for next would spill from her lips. Leaning in closer, balancing on her tiptoes, she whispered, "And my heart almost burst" She only ever recorded the extra special kisses. Only the ones that made her feel her heart was full. Everytime we kissed, I waited for those words. When they came, she almost blew me away with her smile.