Moonshine Kiss Novels & Stories

He kissed me hard while also tightening his arm around my waist. He slowly brought his face closer to mine. His eyes are weary and staring at me intently. It was as if I was burned when his thin lips suddenly touched mine. I immediately closed my eyes as I tightened my grip on his black tuxedo. He kissed me hard while also tightening his arm around my waist. "Damn, I am addicted now with you, not only to your kiss but also to your smiles and personality." He whispered and it was also the moment where I got addicted to something that I never thought I would like in my whole life.

“Now are you going to be able to find your way to the lodge? It’s only about fifty yards. Just follow the path out the front door and go back the way we came. If you’re not at the bar in twenty minutes, I’m going to send someone after you.” “I think I can find the way.” She couldn’t shake her gaze from his. He blinked once and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Almost as if he read her mind, his head lowered and his lips met hers. Shocked, Anne gasped, her lips parted, and Brad deepened the kiss. She lost herself in the warm pressure of his lips, the minty taste of his mouth, the unexpected but welcome thrust of his tongue.

All she remembered was his golden touch in the garden she thought paradise. His one touch…his one whisper…his kisses to remembered for an eternity. She was…she is…she always will be Aiwa, the broken rose with smiling eyes. Her body, her mind belonged to the jackal of the night. She will never escape the shadows of darkness. Her fate was concealed on the day of sixteen candles lasting seven days. She was Gia…she was Mia, the woman with silent tears gleaming in the moonlight. Beneath the High Moon, in the Garden of Evil, forever more knowing only one touch, one whisper, one kiss, her eternity…

His control shattered completely. Killian’s hand caught my hair, fisting it tight. He crashed his lips against mine in a brutal kiss. No softness. No hesitation. Just pure hunger. His mouth claimed mine, tongue pushing past my lips like he owned me. He tasted like whiskey and sin, mixed with the tequila still on my tongue. I moaned into the kiss, grinding harder on his lap as our tongues fought.

he muttered against my skin, his voice dropping into a rough, deep register that resonated straight through my core. He raised his face, his dark eyes locking onto mine for a fraction of a second before he violently, yet tenderly, initiated the kiss again. This time, there was no anger behind the friction of his lips. It was a slow, deep, and entirely possessive slide of his mouth against mine, our tongues curling and stroking together as we exchanged spit in a fluid, breathless rhythm. The taste of the rich, smoky bourbon from the club swirled into my senses, mixing with the lavender and vanilla aroma of my own skin until the room began to tilt beneath my spine.

“You’re not old enough for hard liquor.” His words stung, though I knew he was just stating a fact. My lips parted, ready to snap at him, but before I could, he suddenly cupped my head in his hand, pulling me closer. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. His eyes searched mine for something—permission, perhaps. I rose on my tiptoes, meeting him halfway, the gesture silent but clear. Then he kissed me properly, his mouth coaxing mine open, his tongue finding mine with slow, deliberate care. The taste of whisky flooded my senses, but it was nothing compared to the heat building in my chest from the kiss. It wasn’t just the alcohol that was intoxicating—it was him.

He leaned into her clumsy kiss, the taste of tequila lingering on her lips. Their kiss deepened, causing a tangle of limbs and breathless moans. Their clothes were shed in a hurried rage, and their movements fueled by a potent mix of alcohol and unspoken desires. Succumbing to the allure of her beauty, he surrendered to his impulse. Their bodies entwined in a moment of intense pleasure.

The whiskey burned down her throat, making her pulse thud louder than the music. In her peripheral vision, she saw him take a long drag from his cigar, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. Then his hand tilted her chin up. She froze—but didn’t resist. His lips touched hers, cool at first, then warmer as the smoky breath he exhaled slipped between them. Whiskey and tobacco tangled together, sweet and bitter all at once. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out the bubbling water. His fingers held her jaw lightly, shielding their kiss from the others’ view. He drew her bottom lip between his, then deepened it just enough for his tongue to find hers—briefly, deliberately.

“But I’m not letting some ghost in lipstick steal my kill and walk away like a fucking legend.” I stood, crushing the cigarette under my heel. Amara Voss. The Revenant. I didn’t care if she was a myth, monster, or martyr. I would find her. And if she wanted war, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

I exclaim and struggle out of his arms. “I, Saphira Kingston from the Silver Moon pack, reject…”. Even before I finish, he presses his lips to mine. It's like a huge electrical explosion in my body. I grab on to him, my hands go around his neck by themselves. I return his kiss with all the passion in me, like a thirsty man at the last bottle of water...