Novel & Cerita Moonshine Kiss

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.

Torn. But I didn’t let her speak. Not this time. I leaned in closer, until her breath caught and her lashes fluttered. My lips hovered over hers. Not touching. Not quite. Torture. Sinful, beautiful torture. And I whispered, “No lies, Moonbeam. Only you.” Then I kissed her. Not rough. Not ravenous. But deep. Slow. True. A kiss written in runes older than language. A promise not made in words but in soul. And gods… She kissed me back like she had nothing left to lose, and everything to claim.

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.

She shrugged. It was only then that I noticed that while the others had gotten beer, she was in fact holding out a non-alcoholic mojito towards me. Gladly, I accepted the drink as she took a seat on the only empty seat. “So, what do you want to know?” She asked while opening the can and taking a sip of her beer. “We want to know…” Cameron looked at Darcia for approval, probably to find out if it was safe to tell her our secrets; and he continued only after Darcia nodded. “We want to know if my mate and friend are Moon Kissed.”

“We’ll go to the moonshine shack.” He gestures across the way. The moonshine shack is a cute wooden stall opposite us, where a punkish hipster girl with massive black earplugs and more tattoos than bare skin is pouring clear liquid into mason jar mugs. She’s scowling as she does it, like this is the absolute last place she wants to be tonight. “C’mon, let’s get our drink on,” Cameron says. He seems to have taken my jumping at him the wrong way, and now has his arm tightly wrapped around me, his hand moving from my hip to the top of my thigh as we walk.

What he knew was that its course was different. "Really?" He smirked upon realizing that Khione's lying. "Just a joke, hehe. I'm taking Mascom, but don't drink alcohol from now on. That's mine." The girl snatched the bottle and glass from his hand. Hades didn't rant, he just smiled while watching Khione. "Just drink this." The maid put her milk in the glass. He didn't growl anymore because he didn't want to ruin the chance that he could talk to the girl. It feels like heaven, talking to the girl you like.