Poisoned Kiss Novels & Stories

I let my eyes drift close as I drown in his sinisterly intoxicating kiss. The forbidden fruit has never tasted better.

Worship disguised as possession. When he finally kissed her, it wasn’t tender. It was desperate. His mouth crashed against hers, tasting of rain and grief. Kimberly’s hands found his hair, tugging, grounding herself in the heat of him. The kiss deepened, grew hungrier, their breaths tangled and uneven, as though the air itself had turned to fire. Kovoc’s hand slid to her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between their hearts or the things they’d buried.

she breathed, and she rose onto her toes to press her mouth to his. The kiss was not gentle. It was a collision, a culmination of years of suppressed longing and artistic tension. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to him, and his mouth was demanding, hungry. He tasted of darkness and desire, a flavor so intoxicating she felt drunk on it. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she met it with her own, a fierce, claiming dance that left them both breathless.

He coughs out blood, and he stares at me in shock. "Uhm the one I transferred into your body, when you kissed me, my lipstick actually contains a very deadly poison. I already took the antidote, so it can't cause any harm to me and I'm sorry to inform you but I didn't bring any antidote for you." I said pouting. "You... you... will.. agh." "I'm sorry are you saying something, cause I can't here you." I said smirking, he tries to get up on his feet but then it was impossible since death came knocking.

The collision knocked the breath from her lungs, but any sound she could make was instantly swallowed as his mouth slammed down on hers. The kiss was fierce, toxic, and utterly lawless—tasting of ash, adrenaline, and the primal terror of two weapons realizing their entire reality was a fabricated lie. Arthur kissed her like a man breathing his last lungful of air, his tongue invading her mouth with a possessive, territorial fury that demanded absolute surrender. He wasn't just taking her; he was tearing through decades of mental conditioning, trying to fuse himself to the only real thing left in a world built on illusions.

"Good, girl." Xavier immediately captures my lips in an explosive kiss, a collision of pent-up emotion and passion. This is not just a kiss; it's a declaration of war against my sanity. His tongue sweeps across my lips with possessive demand, forcing me to open up and accept his complete dominance. I let out a soft moan, my hands weaving into his hair, pulling him closer until no air remains between us. The kiss is hot and wild, tasting like a burning, potent fragrance. Each touch of his lips seems to absorb all the wounds of betrayal I felt, replacing them with electric sparks that burn through my nerves. His steel-hard embrace is the only thing that feels real and dizzying.

The kind that comes out when your body doesn't know whether to cry or run, so it picks the worst possible option instead. The sound cut through the silence like a knife. Elena slapped her hand over her mouth immediately, but it was too late. The laugh was already out there, already floating through the Plaza Hotel ballroom, already landing on the ears of three hundred of New York's most powerful people. And on Alexander Knight himself. He stood completely still, champagne soaking through his white dress shirt, spreading dark and wet across his custom tuxedo jacket. His grey eyes, sharp as cut glass, moved from the stain on his chest to the woman kneeling on the floor in front of him.

Once everything was ready, I stepped onto the stage in my white gown and with a bouquet in hand. Lucas couldn't wait for me to reach him. He approached me and stretched out his hand, eager to take mine. I reached my hand out to take his. Amid the blessings of countless werewolves, of the countless cheers and laughter, our hands clasped tightly together. Lucas lowered his head and kissed me as if no one else was there. The kiss was so long that I thought I was going to run out of breath before he finally stopped. Then, he bared his fangs and gently bit the gland at the back of my neck, completing the final mark.

And for her, he was willing to lose himself completely. Without hesitation, Dante leaned in and devoured her mouth with primal urgency. The kiss was intense, passionate, desperate. Their tongues danced wildly, searching, claiming, while their gasps mingled with ragged breaths. God! She was like a damn drug, a delicious poison that consumed him utterly. Her taste was a forbidden delicacy he could neither resist nor wanted to.

freedom. Still, I lean forward, bringing my lips to his, my breath mingling with his. He tastes the same as the first time we kissed. I had been too young to understand what poison really tasted like. The second his lips part, my own meet his in a small kiss, a parting gift of mine as I feel the flicker of something dark, something broken inside me and embrace it completely. My fingers move without thought, slipping into the holster beneath my dress as I pull away from him.