Kiss Of Smoke Book Novels & Stories

My heart thudded once, hard, and before I knew it, I’d closed the distance between us. I leaned in slowly at first, almost giving him a chance to pull away, but he didn’t. So I pressed my lips against his. The taste of smoke clung to him, warm and heady, slipping into my mouth and clouding my senses. It should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t. If anything, it made me crave him more. I deepened the kiss, sliding one arm around his waist and pulling him closer until our chests were flush. Elias gasped softly against my mouth, then suddenly pushed back, breaking the kiss. His breath came quick and uneven, eyes wide.

That's the only thing I could respond to her because I don't have a damn single idea about what the book is about, but then again, it was about love. Love. . . "Shoot! Iris! My group mates are looking for me. I need to head back! I'll just see you tomorrow! I'm gonna watch your game!" She hugged and gave me a smooch on my cheek before she ran away leaving me in awe. I was too occupied even when I got home from work. The book can't get out of my mind. I don't like reading, but it made me search the plot on the internet. And guess what, it was really about Gabby and Travis wherein they eventually develop feelings with each other, get married, and have two kids. And then she got into an acciden

Unfortunately, he won't live long enough to tell others not to fuck with me and mine. I inhale deeply, savouring the sensation as it fills my lungs, burning in the way only an ex-smoker can appreciate. I'm sitting in a chair, in the corner of his room. I haven't bothered to be quiet, but he still hasn't woken, the man who has betrayed me. This annoys me. If a man must go to his death he should wake up and do it on his feet, face me like a man. I stub the cigarette out in the ashtray and stand. I flip the light on and approach the bed, giving it a kick for good measure.

Even when I wouldn’t. He lifted the cigar again and took another deep breath of it and then leaned down. So close thst his mouth was barely an inch from mine. My breath caught and my heart stopped altogether at the action. He didn’t kiss me. He exhaled again and this time directly into my open mouth. His breath that was laced with smoke and heat poured into me like poison dressed as perfume. It burned in a sharp and sweet way. I gasped without thinking and the smoke rushed down my throat before I could stop it.

He wrapped a hand into the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her head back as he crashed his lips against hers. It wasn't a soft kiss; it was a claim. It tasted of smoke, bourbon, and the desperate, violent ambition of two people who were ready to burn the world down just to see what was left in the ashes.

Smelling faintly of smoke and gunpowder and fear primal slammed into me. I shoved hard against his chest, palms flat, and nails digging in, trying to break free but he didn’t let go. Instead he pulled back just enough to look down at me. Then without a word, he crashed his lips onto mine hard and deep. Groaning low in his throat like a starving man finally tasting food. The kiss was possessive, desperate and hungry. His tongue pushed past my teeth wet, demanding, tasting faintly of whiskey and smoke. I froze and everything inside me locked.

My lips pressed against his firmly, cutting off whatever lecture he was about to start on. “Am I forgiven?” I asked in a soft murmur. He didn’t answer. So I took another drag from the cigar, slower this time. I leaned forward, our faces close. My lips brushed his, and as the smoke filled my mouth, I kissed him again, this time sharing it. Our mouths met, and the smoke passed between us like something wicked and intimate. His lips parted, accepting it, and for a second, it felt like we were sharing more than breath.

One hand slid up to the back of my neck, holding me in place. I let out a soft moan into his mouth. The taste of chocolate still clung to my tongue, now mixing with the bitter smoke on his. Sweet. Bitter. Dark. Everything all at once, drowning me. He broke the kiss just long enough to growl, “Don’t play with fire, cara mia.”

She tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to command. “Let me go,” she breathed. “No.” The word vibrated against her lips. Then he kissed her. Hard. Possessive. A claiming. His mouth crushed against hers for just one heartbeat—hot, fierce, devastating—before he tore himself back with a sound that was almost pain. Smoke curled off his skin. Dark shadows coiled around his feet. “Sleep, Little Flame,” he murmured, voice thick, ragged. “You’ll need your strength.” He wiped his cum over her mouth and smiled at the sight of it. The smear shone faintly in the firelight like a twisted, gleaming mark—his satisfaction branded across her lips.

Every nerve in me screamed at the closeness, at the way he leaned in, slow but unstoppable. My breath caught, lips parting as if to speak, but the words never came. Because then, his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t like before, desperate and reckless. This was slow, deliberate, a kiss that lingered in every second of restraint. His lips moved against mine with a tenderness that ached, and when I opened for him, his tongue slid into my mouth, unhurried but consuming. The taste of smoke clung to him, bitter and intoxicating, threading heat low in my belly.