Kiss X Death Novels & Stories

she whispered. Xavier leaned in until their foreheads touched, his breath mingling with hers. “No more fear,” he said softly. “No more running. No more pain. Just us. Our family. Together.” Bella closed the distance, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was soft at first—gentle and full of reverence. But as their emotions surged, the kiss deepened, full of everything they had endured, survived, and now promised each other. It was a kiss that spoke of forever.

Cupping her face, I said, “Do you remember how those men died?” “What does this have to do with Kevin’s rejection? Let me go and explain everything to him. I can’t let him treat you unjustly.” “Just answer me Risha!” “You just bit them and… Holy F***! You just bit them and froth started coming out of their mouths like…” “Like they were poisoned… If your brother kisses me, he will die just like that…” “Hell No!” “It is a fact Risha. I am a killing machine… Kevin and I can never be together…”

Like Damon before him, he sought permission through eye contact, a silent query that I answered with a nod. He descended upon me, his kiss entirely different from his brother's yet equally scorching. It was a dance of power and surrender, of give and take, all wrapped up in an intricate ballet of lips, tongues, and unspoken promises. Where Damon's kiss had been slow and exploratory, Axel's was more urgent, as if he were claiming terrain he'd long yearned to conquer. As our lips parted, a trail of heat remained, searing me to my core, leaving me dazed and breathless.

"I looked up into Death's face as he looked down on me. 'Can you kiss me, please?' I stuttered out. I watched as he turned his head. 'Vick, you know that I can't... we can't.' 'Please, Death.' With a sigh, he finally turned to face me. Our eyes locked, and then he brought his lips down on mine. I held onto him as we shared a passionate kiss. He was like a breath of life to my darkness, and I wanted more. As our tongues intertwined, I managed to pull him down onto the bed with me. I swung my legs over his lap and began to straddle him. 'Please, Death,' I begged again, as I began to remove my top. I watched as his eyes dilated and he let out a curse. 'Vick,' he growled, his voice thick with de

"Those photos aren't edited. They're real." "They've known each other all along and were lying to us right here. How despicable!" With the proof staring everyone in the face, Eva couldn't argue. She resorted to playing the emotional card. "My son and Dr. Summer have deep feelings for each other!" she cried. "They were each other's first love. You forced yourself between them! My son couldn't bear the pain and jumped into the river. This is all your fault!" As the crowd began to waver, Wendy quickly jumped in, forcing a few tears.

“Only death will do us part.” Hearing these words, a wave of relief washed over her. She gazed into his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his promise resonate within her. With her heart racing, she pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love and gratitude into that single, passionate moment. It was a kiss that spoke of trust, hope, and an unbreakable bond—a promise sealed with love.

The kiss deepened, becoming a desperate tangle of tongues and urgent breaths. His hands moved lower, no longer gentle, tearing at the fabric of her dress, the sound of ripping cloth a counterpoint to the escalating passion. He tasted her, savored her, and the anger that had fueled his initial assault began to morph into something deeper, something more primal. The kiss was no longer a battle, but a desperate plea, a silent conversation of unspoken desires and simmering tensions that had been building between them for far too long. It was a kiss that promised both pain and pleasure, a prelude to something far more intense.

I used to feel I can't die, but this period, death has always been staring me in the face. Lucian didn't answer with strategy or reassurance. He responded with a raw of affirmation. His hands gripped my face, and his mouth found mine in a kiss that was rough, possessive, and entirely deviated from tenderness. It wasn't about love, it was about existence. It was about defining this moment as ours, regardless of the consequences. “Then at least,” he growled against my lips, his voice burning with passion and defiance, “we go out as kings.”

“Because of you.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Barely.” We stood in silence again. This one is different. Not angry. Just… full of everything unsaid. “I went out to the border this morning,” I said eventually, shifting the weight of the conversation. “With Kira and Valerie. Remember?” He nodded. “Aleksander briefed me.” “Well, he didn’t see what I saw.” I met Viktor’s gaze again. “The kill style. The symbols carved into the bodies. The branding. The wires. The mutilation—it wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Surgical.”

My name was barely a breath. I didn't answer with words. I closed the distance between us, my hands finding the lapels of his overcoat, my body pressing against his with a force that was equal parts need and fury. The kiss that followed wasn't tender. It was the kiss of two people who'd spent weeks staring at death and finally needed to feel alive.