Kissing Scars Novels & Stories

I can't even wear the dresses I like because of these scars. My eyes widened when I felt his hot breath roaming on my chest. I looked down and my eyes widened all of a sudden when he pressed his lips on my scars. My breath hitched and I put my hands on his shoulder to push him away but he didn't budge. He kissed each line of the scar and I felt a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Things accelerated pretty quickly. What is this man? At first, he wanted to kill me and now he's kissing my scars. Kissing my scars through his mask. Holy yet so unholy.

God, she was sensational. After removing the nipple clamps and blindfold, he leaned over and began kissing along one cheek and then across her eyebrows and down the other side of her face, tracing the slightly raised skin with his tongue. He momentarily stopped when he encountered salty tears. "Shhh, it's okay. You are so beautiful." He twirled his tongue over the blemished skin, feeling his heart flip flop with the need to protect her. "Men don't kiss my scars." She said it so quietly he almost didn't hear.

A man with scars, pains and a story. I can see the uncertainty in his eyes as he looks down at me. I don't know what he's uncertain and scared of but right now, I feel the greatest urge to kiss away all his worries and problems. And so while still holding his gaze, I scramble towards him to straddle his torso and while still holding his gaze, I reach down and run my fingers lightly over his puckered skin. I really wonder what happened but I'm not going to force him to tell me what happened. Him getting comfortable enough to let me see and even touch is already a big feat. We'll talk this slowly, one day at a time. I lean down to plant the most gentle kiss on the longest scar running from the

He lavished attention on every inch of exposed skin, his kisses turning to bites, to licks, mapping my body as if memorizing it. I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers clumsy with need. He helped me, shrugging out of it, and then his skin was against mine, hot and smooth over hard muscle. The feel of him, the sheer, solid reality of him, was almost too much. I ran my hands over his back, feeling the ridges of old scars, the powerful shift of his shoulders. “Ethan,” he whispered, his lips against my throat. “My Ethan. Mine.”

CHAPTER 53: I MISS YOU MAYA'S POV I didn’t breathe the entire time Charlotte was screaming. Not when the jar shattered, not when the candles toppled. Not even when she yelled the sentence that cracked something quietly, painfully, inside my chest. “I’m sorry I kissed your girlfriend even though she’s the one that forced me!” Everybody gasped, except me. I didn’t make a sound. Like my body didn’t get the memo that the world was falling apart.

I whispered. This time was different from everything. His hands undressed me slowly, sliding each piece of clothing away with a patience that made me hold my breath. His fingers traced my skin as if he were reading me, learning every curve, every hollow, every imperfection. When he reached my scars, he didn’t avoid them. He kissed them. One by one. The one on my cheek. The ones on my neck. My shoulders. And when his mouth found the long scar crossing my abdomen—the one Ricardo left as a final gift—he placed a kiss so slow, so deliberate, that something inside me broke.

She asked curiously but something doesn't add up. I mean I have asked him about the scars and he insinuated that it was BDSM gone wrong and honestly I didn't think much of it because that was when we just lost our parents and he was a little rebellious at that point but I still think she got the wrong guy... I mean now I understand why she fled immediately she saw him shirtless but anyone could have a similar scar, right?

Good. “Names,” Viktor ordered. The first to step forward was a tall brunette with a scar across her cheek like she’d survived a bomb. She wore black cargo pants and combat boots like she meant business. “Kira,” she said in a flat voice. “Explosives. Don’t get in my fucking way.” I raised an eyebrow. “Try not to blow yourself up, and we’ll get along just fine.” She didn’t react. Ice cold. Next was a blonde with ceand ekbones sharp enough to cut glass and dark lipstick that screamed trouble. She looked like she enjoyed pain, mostly giving it.

He whispers and my chest contracts so painfully I am afraid I won’t be able to say anything. "No, don't ever say that." Jeremy wraps his hands around me and I wish I could take all the pain he's gone through and make it mine if that would make him feel better. I lift my hands to wrap them around him too carefully. We stay like this for a while, and I am waiting for him to decide when to let go or speak. After a while, he pulls back. He nods at me and his hands go for the rims of his top. He takes it off. There are more scars there. I don't dare touch him, because I don't know if touch will repulse him now.

Remember Scars will always get visible, when all lights are off. Bringing in the moonlight He couldn't help dip his head lower and move his trembling lips closer to her scarred skin. "I am....soory....my angel...I am so sorry." He whispers and she flinched, feeling his warm teardrops falling on her skin. Surprised she looks down to only feel his lips kiss her scar, making her own tears to leave her eyes. "Why..." "....why didn't you tell me?" Was all he asked and she for once didn't knew how to answer.