Novel & Cerita Lovers High

Like something inside me had come alive without asking for permission. No, I swallowed hard, forcing that thought down. This is different, this is real. This is right. I have known Liam for years, I have history with him. Something solid. Something that didn’t come out of nowhere and shake everything I thought I understood about myself. This isn't work, this is choosing what makes sense. My grip on his chest tightened slightly. Just one night. Just one try. My eyes fluttered shut. And I leaned in first. The moment our lips met, it was soft, almost careful. Like both of us were testing something fragile, something that could still break if either of us moved too fast.

I'm glad nobody knows that we seek to make each other suffer. After setting the table, I called in the minister and my husband. "I can see now that you guys are in a springtime of love." The minister's wife said. "What's the springtime of love?" The minister asked. "It's a season when couples can't stop pouring out their love." She answered. "Venessa told me about it." Martin held my hand. I wanted to push his hand away but I smiled at the minister and his wife. "Venessa, what do you like most in your husband?" The minister's wife asked.

They returned to their embrace, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss, like two souls rediscovering each other. As the moon and stars cast their gentle glow upon the scene, they bore witness to the lovers' intimate exchange. The room was filled with the faint rustling of fabric, the whisper of their breaths, and the scent of desire that hung in the air, a symphony of sensations that heightened the intensity of the moment. The kiss was a testament to the love that had endured, a silent declaration that their hearts had found their way back to each other. Their connection was undeniable, and nothing could stand in their way now.

Enough love to cover them like the stars above and last a lifetime. THE END

Without hesitation, Lena got up and followed him. As their figures disappeared from view, a few people started whispering. "Hey, don’t you think they make a great pair? Their height, their looks… everything matches!" Someone clapped their hands excitedly. "I’ve been thinking that for ages! They have that destined vibe—both so strong, like Mr. and Mrs. Smith." "Exactly! That love-hate dynamic where they want to defeat each other but can’t bear to see the other gone because no one else is a worthy opponent."

he scoffed, shaking his head. I cracked a small smile. “Am I? Maybe it's because it has been so long since I loved someone this much.” My smile widened as the image of Vivienne's face crossed my mind. “Yeah, being in love looks good on you. At least, you don't get on my nerves all the time again,” Ryder muttered. “You should learn that too, Ryder. I still wonder how Judy tolerates your grumpy ass all the time,” I inputted. “She loves me too, you dumbass.”

They had been given a gift, and they were determined to cherish it every single day. The night was a symphony of love—a beautiful, harmonious blend of passion and tenderness. Mihir and Tami explored each other's hearts and souls, discovering new depths of emotion and connection. They laughed, they cried, and they loved with a ferocity that left them breathless. It was a night they would always remember, not just for the physical closeness they shared but for the emotional and spiritual connection they deepened.

I arch my back to give him better access. " I love your help " I moan while his lips capture me in a passionate kiss and his tongue is already in a fighting zone with mine. Liam positions me on the couch, him on top of me, continuing with his torture. I loved the way he made me feel, so good. I felt like I was millions of miles away from everyone and everything. It felt safe.

One night. No names. No consequences—until the whole world sees it. Six months after being left at the altar, Celeste Hartwell is done being the beautiful sister everyone underestimates. So when she slips into London’s most exclusive masked club, she wants one thing that belongs entirely to her: an anonymous night with a stranger who asks no questions and makes no promises. Then footage of their encounter is leaked beside a £250,000 payment into Celeste’s account; and the man she is accused of sleeping with turns up dead. There’s only one problem. Celeste never slept with Sebastian Huxley. She slept with Michael Harbinger, the elusive operative who spent years inside the consp

he whispered back as he slowly moved up the lawn toward the lodge, “and I’d rather not try.” I did as he asked and molded my body to his until he felt confident enough to turn away from the creature and pick me up. There was nothing romantic about the way he slung me over his shoulder and raced to the lodge with all of his might. I was very much aware of the fact that whoever might be awake in the lodge would see the full frontal of my naked lover with my bare bottom slung over his shoulder charging them, but there seemed little alternative.