Kiss From A Rose Novel Novels & Stories

But there was also an undeniable connection between them, a pull that went beyond the chaos surrounding their lives. As his lips found hers, their kiss was a mixture of longing, uncertainty, and an unspoken promise. Rose could feel the conflict within herself, torn between her feelings for Sebastian and the need for answers. But in that moment, as their lips met and their embrace deepened, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the intricate web of emotions that bound them together.

"I brought you a treat." Rose's ears perked up, and she gobbled up the food eagerly. Isabelle smiled, feeling a small sense of comfort. At least Rose didn't judge her, didn't try to control her like Collins did. As she petted Rose, Isabelle couldn't help but think about the kiss. She felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she remembered the way Collins' lips had claimed hers. It was a kiss that had left her breathless, a kiss that had made her feel alive. But she was supposed to hate him, not enjoy his touch. Isabelle felt a pang of guilt and confusion.

I just took. I expected her to fight me. I expected her to hit my wounded arm. I expected her to yell but she did not. She stood there stiff for only one second. Then she melted into the kiss. She let me in, sbe closed her eyes. I felt her hand come up and rest on my chest. It was a small hand. I heard a small sound come from her throat, It was a good sound. I kissed her harder. I pushed all my anger and all my loneliness into the kiss. She was tasting good, she was tasting like water and fire at the same time. I wanted to never stop, i wanted to pick her up and take her away and keep her.

“Is this yours?" The immediate answer came out her mouth when she saw it, "No, why—" She froze, and Chris looked at her, the concern brewing in his eyes. But she couldn’t help but to stare at the gift, knowing exactly what it was. A Resin Rose, wrapped with thorns of grief; exactly like the picture. The moon so delicate, handmade and one of a kind. "Claec…" Her hand cupped the gift, pulling it away from him. Chris stared at her in confusion, his hands feeling empty, "who's that?"

he whispered alluringly. At that moment, I stopped caring about the question. Our future together had been written for us a long time ago. Someone could say that the affection we shared wasn't real since it was created by a spell… But isn't love always magical? It began exactly like the love between Immara and Jadiel. It started with that one magical kiss. After all that happened, I like to think of the kissing spell not as a curse, but merely a way to correct the evil fate of our previous lives. This time, we finally found our happy-ending. THE END

He’d only seen her fifteen seconds ago, but already his young cock felt as hard as a poker. Cursing his nerves and his randiness, he swallowed hard, then strode across the foyer. Aquake inside, he held out the single scarlet rose he’d brought her, then told the apparition his name: Jem. The rose had been a daft impulse but, crazily enough, it worked. Mrs Caspell sighed softly, then smiled with a unfeigned pleasure and gestured Jem to sit down. Heads turned all across the foyer when she leant across and kissed him on the lips with a pressure that was slow and inquisitive.

He simply watched, his dark eyes tracking every movement with careful attention. When Noir reached me, he bent down slowly. I held my breath, frozen in place as he leaned in close. His scent covered me, for some reason he smelled of oranges and strawberries. Then his lips brushed against my cheek, feather-light and achingly gentle. The kiss lasted only a second, maybe less, but it felt like time stopped entirely. My skin burned where his lips had touched, and my chest tightened with an emotion I couldn't name. "Goodbye, Ellie," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

He took control, pulling her in, one hand behind her head, the other wrapped firmly around her waist. They kissed—long and deep, like lovers lost in the rush of first love. And just like that, I couldn't tell anymore. Was it "Rose" that made him lose control? Or had he truly fallen for Chloe? All I knew was, he no longer loved me. Not me—Wendy. I was already dead, but somehow, my heart still hurt like hell.

“Not everybody likes handing over their life story on the first date.” “First date,” he repeated softly. “So you admit this is one?” She huffed a laugh despite herself and shook her head. “That is not what I meant.” “Damn, I was hoping for that first date kiss at the end.” Rose turned back so sharply she caught the smirk forming. “You don’t kiss wolves, remember?” “No,” he said, leaning closer without touching her. “Which is why I keep thinking about doing it.” Her breathing changed. She hated that he could hear it.

"Alright." He froze. "What did you just say?" "I said alright." I looked at him steadily. "Cedric, thank you for showing me that there's still sincerity in this world. I'm willing to try—to be with you." Cedric was too moved to speak. He simply pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. And from the street below, Silas saw everything. He saw Chloe's radiant smile, saw the way she melted into Cedric's embrace. Then he turned and walked away, his steps unsteady, his figure hollow—like a man long dead inside.