Kiss Of Smoke Book Novels & Stories

Full of everything we’d never said but always felt. His hand moved to my cheek, warm and hesitant. “I don’t know what this is,” he said, voice thick. “I just know it feels like fire when you’re near. And smoke when you’re gone.” “Then stay in the fire.” He leaned in slowly. And kissed me. Not gentle. Not soft. It was the kind of kiss that came after death knocked but didn’t quite get in. Desperate. Real. Like pulling each other from the edge. His lips moved against mine like he needed the taste to breathe. My fingers tangled in his shirt, grounding myself to the only thing that felt safe in this collapsing world.

I read “’it smells delicious’ she murmured and advanced on me. A glint in the moonlight caught my eye as she produced a knife from her dress pocket and held it out towards me ‘let me have a taste.’” I glanced down at the kid to see he was thoroughly enjoying his morbid bedtime story. He crunched away on his beans as he waited impatiently for me continue. “’No, Jocelyn’” I drawled “’stop this….’ wait, do you smell that?” Inoxia lifted his head from my side and sniffed the air. I placed the book down and breathed deeply, instantly choking on the chemical laced smoke billowing from the roof. The black plumes smothered the room and bellowed up to every crevice they could find. Inoxia’s splutteri

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.

BOOK 3: Chapter 49: Sinfully Yours They are kissing each other like nothing else in the world matters. Their mouths move in sync, desperate and greedy, lips molding together in a slow, heated dance that only deepens with every second. Tongues entwine, curling and tasting, savoring the forbidden flavor of each other like it’s the last thing they’ll ever have. Their kiss isn’t just about hunger—it’s about a desperate need. It’s raw and aching. They are clinging onto one another, shivering under the weight of the passion that has consumed them both entirely.

“Yes, I am a womanizer but I am a womanizer with taste, Arya. Just take a look at that girl. It seems that she only gets to take a bath once a week and someone told me that she reuses her socks. That’s just fucking gross!” I narrowed my eyes at that because I do not know how true it is. Kisha is flamboyant herself so it’s really hard to believe. “Who told you that?” “Monique” I rolled my eyes at that. “You’re stupider than I expected. Of course, Monique would bad mouth her because she likes you! Kisha isn’t like that, for fuck’s sake she won’t even touch the ground.” My twin brother just smirked. I did not say anything more because just then, we already entered the school grounds and once th

He push my chin up and locked eyes with me. I could barely breathe with how close he was to me. His cocky aroma filled my lungs, and I longed for my pain to have me in his room. He leans in like he will kiss me. He bit me on the lip and flung my face away like my lip was disgusting. “Don't do that to her.” Sloane, who stood invisible to me while all this was going on, yelled at Ares. Ares didn't act like he heard anyone speak. He is never known to give his attention to women who are not of his level because of his arrogance.

and a warm feeling washes over me. A sense of relaxation takes over as I sink into the seat. I hand the joint to him, “So Kat, how old are you?” A burst of bubbling laughter builds from my stomach and I can't control it. I laugh, which makes him laugh. “I'll be 18 in august.” He hands the joint back and I hit the joint again without any hesitation, “While we're on the topic of bearing out our souls, what's your real name Surge?” He giggles lightly, “If I tell you, I'd have to kill you.” He laughs out loud, “Come here I wanna try something.” He takes the joint from my hands and pulls my face right close to his so our noses almost touch. “This is called a shotgun, I'm going to hit the joint a