Kissing Scars Novels & Stories

he said and grinned. I want to scream and punch his face, but he moved away from my hand and hold it instead, I feel electricity rush all over my body when he start intertwining our hands together, he smiled at me and the next thing he do that made my face look like a tomato is when he planted a kiss on my hand. "Darling..." My eyes widened and pull my hand off him, Shock is written all over my face-- I have trauma when someone tries to kiss my skin! "Jerk! what are you doing?!" I hissed and throw him a punch that he catches by instinct, people around us start to look in our direction and put out their phones, and start recording.

I didn't want to tell them anything past that they would kick me out if they knew the truth. " How did you get that scar?" Theo spoke as he looked down at me. My eyes twitched and I looked away from him before answering. " My uh my m-mum s-she uh g-gave me t-the s-scar." It came out broken and as a whisper but I knew both of them had heard my answer as the silence was overwhelming, I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face as we continued to walk completely quiet as the only sound heard was their shoes hitting the ground.

"She didn't even know that I burned my back. I cried but it was not because of the pain I suffered from my mother, but because of the searing pain at my back. Even the neighbors who left me escape the burning house didn't know about it. I-I hide the burn and until now, the scars was left to remind me of that night." "Have you told her about your scars?" I shook my head. "No. No one knew but me. I didn't tell her and she didn't bother to ask if I was okay or not. I just saw how murderous her eyes were when she learned that I burnt down her dream house."

“Let go, Michelle. You don’t have to pity me. I’m used to this. I just need a bit of time alone and I’ll be fine.” Lauren looked into his cold blue eyes but was still not convinced. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t bear to. His eyes seemed to keep drawing her in that she nearly forgot to blink. She wondered how a man could be so handsome and deadly at the same time. Suddenly moved by an unknown force, she pressed against him and kissed him. Finally, she had her first kiss. So this was how it felt. She sensed him stiff and unmoving and worry filled her mind. Was she doing it wrong? Did he really not like her? Of course, she wasn’t his class. Maybe Claire was right after all.

he asked, softly rubbing his finger over her scar. "Accident," Hailey replied. Cassian bent down and kissed her scar softly. Hailey shivered at the touch, her heart pounding. His lips lingered on her skin, sending a wave of warmth through her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and felt his hands slide up her arms, gently pulling her closer. Their breaths mingled as Cassian's lips moved from her scar to her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses. Hailey's hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as her knees threatened to give way. The intensity of his touch ignited a fire within her.

His kiss is desperate, grateful, and full of emotions. He lays me down and rests both hands near my head as he hovers over me. He presses his hard cock against my entrance, making me gasp at the hardness. I close my eyes as his lips move from my mouth down my neck towards my breasts, ignoring my aching nipples. He starts to kiss my scar, and I can feel a single tear fall. His eyes meet mine, and I can see his eyes are red and puffy. I sit up, cradling his face between my hands.

"Then do it. Confess while you take me. Make me feel alive again." He gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, mouth claiming hers in a bruising kiss. Tongues tangled, desperate, tasting whiskey and regret. She moaned, hands fisting his shirt, yanking it over his head to expose his chiseled chest, scars mapping old battles. "Your skin," she whispered against his lips, tracing a jagged line over his ribs. "I remember bandaging this. Wanted to lick it clean then." "Lick it now," he growled, guiding her down. She knelt, tongue flicking over the scar, then lower, nipping his abs. His hands tangled in her dark hair, urging her on.

These eye contact with her was his undoing. Leaning closer, he picked up from where he had left. She sizzled everywhere his mouth connected with her skin. He soaked her scars with his wet kisses. His tongue tracing them with a whole-hearted devotion. These scars were a testament to her undying spirit. They were beautiful. He would cherish these scars because they were a part of her. She let out a moan, stirring underneath him. Her need was growing with his every touch. Her half-closed eyes were following his movement with a mixture of desire and submission.

Pain flared. Cassandra lingered just long enough to stoop and whisper, "Have a good play, darling. I'll make sure to wave as I kiss him." She spun on her heel, and there was laughter from the marble. The ceremony went on. Jake sat, eyes wide in wonder at being the participant in yet another performance for yet another audience he didn't care about. Cassandra sparkled, every move choreographed, every smile a posed photo opportunity. The speaker at the ceremony said, "You may now kiss the bride," and my stomach coiled in knots with anxiety. They kissed reluctantly, hard, awkwardly, slowly, painfully. Not love. Victory.

The silence that fell was heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions too raw to articulate. I lowered myself further, my lips gently touching more of her scars, one by one, inch by inch. I kissed them as if they were not symbols of a tragic past, but instead, keys to a new beginning. Each kiss was a silent vow, a promise of acceptance and unwavering support. To the unbroken skin between the scars, I bestowed gentle kisses, as if to pay homage to the strength that had enabled her to survive. To the scars themselves, my lips delivered a tender message of acceptance, acknowledging the pain they represented while also honoring the resilience they embodied.