Novel & Cerita Lipstick Readings

He brought his finger to my face. “See?” I looked and… Shit. Red lipstick. An evidence of Lara's presence on my lips. “I'm not sucking lipstick,” he stated calmly. My hand left his waist, going to my mouth, brushing hard through my lips in an attempt to clean this shit off. “Is it still there?” I asked. He nodded. “Very much.” I scrubbed again. “Still there?” I asked. “Riven, lipstick needs harder scrubs to go off.” I scrubbed harder for at least fifteen seconds while he just stood there watching me.

Poor guy. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling with something more than sympathy. Maybe… just maybe… this is my chance. Natasha slowly reached for her handbag that was resting beside her desk. Her fingers moved carefully, and she pulled out her small red lipstick, uncapped it, and leaned closer to her compact mirror. With a little ease, she reapplied the color to her lips before pressing them gently together. Her eyes turned to her reflection in the mirror. She tilted her head, checked her hair, dabbed at a small corner of her eye, and gave herself a little nod.

I sneered. I calmly looked at him as he took the cup, drank a large gulp, and quickly spat the water out. "Hot! Whot did youth do?" His tongue was so burned that his speech became slurred. "Just disinfecting your mouth a little," I replied. I looked at the lipstick mark on his shirt with disdain. It was the same shade as what Melissa was wearing. I added, "If you keep licking cheaply made lipstick, you'll end up with lead poisoning."

I don't know things about that. A smile can be seen on her lips as he closes his eyes while waiting for Kianna's hand to touch his lips. Holding a lipstick in her hand she gently dips her pointing finger to the red paste. Leaning to reach his face she tap her finger to his lips making the red tint of the lipstick paint his lips.

"Your lips." I instantly turn to the mirror again, examining my red lips to confirm his comment. But they're absolutely fine. Like I said, the lipstick is applied within the lip line, and there isn't any dry patchy spots since I'm applying one of the most hydrating lipsticks I've ever owned. Correction, Jacq owned, since she gave me this lipstick in case I need to touch up during the party. "I didn't say that lips," his breath at the nape of my neck makes me move my eyes towards the reflection of him standing behind me.

"I got a color to match this lipstick. Don't you think it looks sexy?" Josh glanced over, his eyes immediately drawn to the bright red color of his mother's nail polish, her long colored nails looking sinfully erotic on her delicate fingers. "Y...yeah," he muttered, his eyes flicking back and forth between his mother's waving fingers and the road, "they look really nice."

I know what he meant, but I chose to ignore the question. It didn’t. It shouldn’t. I picked up the blood pressure monitor. Detached. Robotic. “Arm.” He held it out, watching me the way a lion might watch a limping deer. Then, without warning, he reached out and caught my chin. Pulled me closer. His grip wasn’t harsh—but it was unyielding. My breath caught. And then I saw it. A smear of red on his skin. Lipstick. Her lipstick. On his jaw.

She carefully wiped off the top layer of the lipstick with a tissue before using her fingertip to apply the color to Alex’s lips. Alex froze in place, his little body stiff and unmoving, especially his lips. This was his first time wearing lipstick, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. When she finished, Helen leaned back to inspect her work. “Not bad,” she said, pleased with the result. The sales associate, eager to make a sale, chimed in enthusiastically. “This is one of our best-selling items right now. You’ve got a great eye!” Alex tiptoed to check his reflection in the mirror. His delicate features and youthful complexion were naturally charming, but with the lipstick, he looked ent

A habit. She opened her lipstick drawer. Muted pink. Nude peach. Bare beige. None of them red. She picked up one and held it next to her lips, then put it down. That lipstick wasn’t mine. It never was. The silence in the bathroom was louder than her heartbeat. She leaned over the sink, gripping the porcelain until her knuckles turned white. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered to herself. “I know what I saw.” Her reflection stared back—unsure, fragile, but burning with a growing fire underneath.

I coax. She takes the lipstick from my hand and pops off the cap. I watch from inches away as she glides the end along her top and then bottom lip. It's dark red and sexy as hell. She presses her lips together and rubs them against each other in a practiced move I'm sure she's done a million times. Why this fascinates me so much is beyond me. Fuck, she's impossible to resist and I stop fighting it.