Midnight Kisses Novels & Stories

Damon asked me. It was a surprise. I felt Damon's warm, soft lips on mine before I spoke. We felt stuck in a bubble of time and space as we kissed under the clear sky. At that time, I didn't even notice how beautiful the sunset was. He teased me with his tongue, and when I opened my mouth a little, he used it against me. He used his tongue to feel around inside my mouth. 'So this is a kiss—a warm feeling between our lips.'

But, we had to come up for air eventually. Gabe slowly broke our kiss. I was practically panting and beyond turned on. If we hadn’t been out in the parking lot, I’d probably have ripped off his clothes right there. “That might have been the best goodnight kiss I’ve ever had,” he whispered. He sounded just as breathless as I felt. The light above us illuminated the green of his eyes as he spoke. My hands were trembling as I gripped his muscular shoulders. “No kidding,” I agreed, still trying to catch my breath.

I felt like a schoolgirl alone with her crush for the first time, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. “I have wanted to do this all night,” Jack whispered, reaching his hand to my chin. He gently guided me to his lips. Fireworks exploded in my brain and I swear a brass band was playing a happy song as he kissed me. I pressed up against him, feeling his strong body mold into mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in closer as his tongue quested for mine. I could have stood there kissing him for the rest of the evening, but the phone began to ring again. Jack ignored it for a moment, but when the shrill sound refused to stop, he released me. His kisses left me breathless, dizzy and cra

Maya’s POV Midnight is rude. It removes logic. It removes fear. It removes clothing in your imagination before you can stop it. And unfortunately, my imagination has a favorite victim. My next door neighbor is tall, unfairly attractive, and has the kind of voice that could convince a nun to sin without even raising his tine My name is Maya Collins. I am nineteen. I am supposed to be focused on saving my family business, finishing university, and behaving like a responsible adult.

They were intensely personal. She saw a diner in Brooklyn, rain lashing against the window pane. She saw a younger Luca laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners as she stole fries from his plate. She remembered a first kiss beneath the neon hum of city lights, late-night conversations that bled into dawn, shared dreams, whispered promises, and thousands of quiet, mundane moments. This was their real story. Not cosmic entities, not the preservation of reality, just them. The bond grew so blindingly bright that the fracture itself began to respond. A brilliant silver light erupted across the darkened sky, pushing back the shadows. The creeping darkness recoiled in earnest, and the ancient,

But every light inside dimmed sharply for a split second before returning to normal. Several guests glanced upward uneasily. Then the elevator stopped moving. The gaming streamer frowned. “Uh… are we stuck?” Before anyone could answer, the overhead speaker crackled softly. [Midnight check-in begins in ten minutes.] The voice sounded distorted, wrong somehow. A second later, every phone inside the elevator buzzed simultaneously. Winona pulled hers out slowly. A new notification covered the screen. WELCOME TO MIDNIGHT HOTEL. FIRST RULE: DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOOR AFTER 12 A.M. NO MATTER WHO IS KNOCKING.

The tension was palpable; each movement a dance of subtle power and playful deceit. When the final question came, the MC instructed them to kiss for thirty seconds, a display for the assembled guests. Elena’s heart raced, her breath hitching slightly as Adrian leaned in. Their lips met in a carefully calculated, yet intimate and beautiful kiss. Twenty-eight seconds passed. The MC’s voice interrupted with playful authority: “Two more seconds, please. Complete the thirty.”

Moans echoed off the shelves. I came hard. Fast. Shattering. Thighs clamping around his head, hips bucking, wetness coating his chin. He didn’t stop. Licked me through the aftershocks until I was trembling, oversensitive, begging. Then he rose. Pulled me up. Kissed me—deep, filthy, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “Happy New Year,” he whispered against my lips. The clock on the wall struck midnight. Fireworks exploded outside—muffled, distant.

Amara POV: Viktor Dragovic wants to make a deal with me? That’s fucking hilarious. I’ve killed men with more brains and less ego. He thinks tossing money and whispers my way will get my attention? He has no idea who he’s playing with. Still, I couldn’t help but grin as I stared at the encrypted message glowing on the screen: “The Devil offers a meeting. Midnight. Iron Citadel.” Drama much? I leaned back on the hotel couch, swirling cheap whiskey in a glass. My black boots were muddy from last night’s kill, blood still crusted on the laces. I hadn’t bothered cleaning them. Why would I? The mess was half the art.

His eyes, I will forever remember that held such adoration and love that melted not only me, but my heart as well. His voice speaking with such tenderness and sincerity is what made the tears fall freely. I tightened my hold on him and met him halfway; our lips moving in a sensual dance. A kiss that also held its own such promise. The amount of love pouring in through our link spread out through my entire being and I dearly hope he felt my love for him. "Tonight, after Nica's birthday, meet me here at exactly midnight." I rubbed our noses in an eskimo kiss which earned me a beautiful smile, "I want to show you something."