Kiss The Villain Novels & Stories

Before reality caught up to me, Damian’s lips claimed mine in a heated kiss. My eyes widened in shock. Holy moly! The most harmless crybaby stole my first kiss. My mind went blank. In a moment of clarity, I bit down hard, shoved him away, and scrambled for my life. Then came System’s notification once I took shelter at home. [Congratulations on completing the wicked villainess’ storyline. Only thirty minutes remain on the countdown to your return to your world.]

I felt like I had caught him, he must have slacked in his cooked stories. "You said you want to take it back without shedding blood. That's why we are using the Kiss Of Vengeance. Alpha Jake has kissed your hand four times already, we need six more to go." He still found a way out and I felt marveled. He was good at this. "Kiss Of Vengeance?" I asked as that was the part that marveled me the most in his new development. "I see that you do not believe me and I'm sure that your memory will still come back. Until then, I'll let you do whatever you want." He stood up from the bed, walking out but he couldn't stop turning back to look at me.

A chant not for her, but against her. “Villainess. Villainess. Villainess.” Seren’s stomach turned to ice. They weren’t wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She had just hijacked the heroine’s story. Kael leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, his voice pitched only for her: “Let them chant. A villainess…” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, possessive and reverent. “…is far harder to forget than a saint.” The System hummed in satisfaction.

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.

His lips brushed mine barely and the bond flared so hard my body trembled. “I’m not afraid of you,” I whispered. “You fucking should be,” he said. Then he kissed me. Hard. Deep. Devouring. Like he wanted to taste every lie I’d ever told. His hands roamed. His body pressed mine into the stone. And when he broke the kiss, breath ragged, he whispered: “When I’m free, Valkhara, I’m going to make them watch. I am going to fill you up with so much cum, your body wont

“Now continue. But this time I want you to touch each other, do more than kissing.” “My love the kiss is all I can do… I’m only gay for you not him” Victor said. I know am pushing them into a wall but there was no way, they will remain

" Killian moved so fast I didn't have time to gasp. One moment he was by the bar; the next, his hand was wrapped around my throat. It wasn't tight enough to choke, but it was enough to make the world shrink down to his face. "You're a villain because you're a St. Claire," he murmured, his voice a low, terrifying rasp. "I’m just the one who gave you the costume." He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. "You think that little whisper on the stage was a power move? Telling me you’d burn the building down? It was cute. But here, in the dark, there are no cameras. No father to watch. No Thatcher to impress. Just the owner and the property."

What he shared with Noemi was nothing but platonic love. A great love story always needs a villainess to make it burn. And that villainess was me. Gianna Milano. The plot called for me to discover the emotional affair and go to war against Noemi: petty cruelty, jealous rages, one humiliation after another, all of it making Noemi shine brighter by contrast. Renato's contempt for me would grow until he handed me the divorce papers himself. Then I'd run to my father, try to use the family to tear them apart.

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.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous of a man who has to lock his wife up to keep her from running? I don’t need a key to make you stay by my side, Sienna. I only need this." Without warning, Killian leaned down and smothered her lips in a rough, demanding kiss. This wasn't a gentle kiss of affection. This was a kiss of anger, passion, and claim. Sienna tried to fight, her hands pounding against his shoulders, but he only tightened his embrace.