Novel & Cerita Lies Before Kisses

“Do it properly, or tomorrow your father wakes to find the debt unpaid.” Her throat tightened. Rage surged in her veins, but so did desperation. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her face again. This time, her lips brushed his, soft, fleeting, but real. A kiss. The world seemed to stop. Heat shot through her veins, uninvited, unwanted. For a moment, she felt the strength in his stillness, the danger coiled beneath his restraint. His lips didn’t move against hers, but his hand tightened on her wrist, steadying her as if she might break.

He simply waited. Lisa’s chest constricted. She wanted to hug him like she had the others, but something in her rebelled against the idea of making it that simple. Her heart pounded erratically as she stepped closer. The others watched with expectant smirks, already sensing the tension crackling between them. Lisa stopped in front of him, tilted her head, and before anyone could anticipate it, she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was brief—barely a brush—but deliberate, stylish, and executed right there in front of everyone.

A strange feeling surged through her entire being. "Here's your punishment for making me worried." Kai quickly pressed his lips against the girl's, gradually deepening the kiss. Blessie's body seemed paralyzed as she was taken aback by the sudden movement of the guy. As their kiss deepened, she didn't realize that she was gradually getting carried away, matching each movement of their lips. What started as a simple kiss soon turned into their tongues playing inside their mouths. The heat they felt gradually intensified, fueling their burning libido. Their kisses became more passionate, and even their hands began to explore. Kai pulled Blessie's body closer to him, intensifying their kissing.

His request hung in the air, charged with anticipation. Without hesitation, Kazia leaned up, her lips meeting his in a gentle yet electrifying kiss. It was a promise of the future, a pledge of loyalty and love that bound them together. In that moment, the weight of her past seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

She smiles before she kisses me. XXX

*** The chauffeur matched the breaks the very moment he pulled into the massive garage of Xavier Le Premiere square. “Here we go, pussies”. He said and wore a pussy mask. He, too, was in for the party. “Come get the door, dick”. Laura said in response, sparking a sort of confusion in my unseen mind. How could a chauffeur call his passenger such weird name, pussy? He alighted and got the door for us, and we alighted, but while I made for the massive ground, Laura stayed back and stole a couple of kisses from the man, before coming after me.

“Not as obligations. Or someone else living in someone skin, Not as contracts, or as people forced together by circumstances and enemies.” My heart was pounding now. “No lies,” he said starring into my eyes, like he was trying to read it, No secrets. No ghosts standing between us. No one to fight. No one to prove anything to.” His voice softened. “Just us.” The room went very still. I didn’t let him finish anything else. I leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was certain. I poured every yes, every forgiveness, every hope I still had into that kiss. My hands slid into his hair, and he inhaled sharply against my mouth like he’d been holding his breath for a

So he did the only thing that came to him in that moment—he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. It was sudden, unexpected, and overwhelming. His lips were firm yet gentle, demanding yet tender. The kiss was an assertion, a way to remind her that she was still alive, still capable of feeling something other than fear. Esteria's initial shock melted into something warmer, deeper, as his kiss grew more insistent. Her hands, weak as they were, found their way to his shoulders, clutching at him as if he were her lifeline.

No rush. Layla leaned in first—slow kiss, lips soft, tasting of wine and the faint salt of the day. Adeyemi kissed back—gentle at first, then deeper, tongues meeting in lazy strokes. Layla’s hands slid under Adeyemi’s linen top, palms warm on bare skin, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. Adeyemi arched into the touch, nipples hardening under the light graze.