Sandpaper Kisses Papercut Bliss 소설 & 이야기

“Because I don't want to wait anymore. I'm done waiting. I needed to kiss you, at least once.” “Just once?” My heart stalled a little. I wanted to kiss him far more than just once. Billions of kisses wouldn't be enough. “At least once,” he clarified, bending his head to mine again. “But I'm not sure that even a million would satisfy me now.” “Ms. Page!” An urgent cry came as the door opened and interrupted my perfect night. Standing in the doorway was the party coordinator, looking incredibly flustered. Her hair was mussed and her cheeks red.

She rose slowly, moving toward it, needing light, needing something to hold her together in the suffocating dark. Her fingers brushed the desk, and she froze. The wood was uneven beneath her touch. Not the smooth polish she had traced countless nights, but something rougher. Scratched. She bent closer, lifting the candle. The flame wavered, throwing shadows across the underside of the desk. Her eyes narrowed. There, carved deep into the wood, were words. Jagged. Uneven. Fresh. “The Devil’s Bride will burn the Devil’s throne.” Her breath caught. The flame trembled in her hand, her pulse hammering so loud it drowned the silence.

I laughed and wrapped one of the towels around him, picking the golden leaf from his sandy hair. "What are you doing?" I asked him, looking him over. "I was coming back to get you!" He laughed, his eyes full of a boyish light. "I couldn't wait." Robbie leaned forward, putting his hand under my chin and kissing me soundly. Crystal drops from his hair fell onto my face, his tongue sweet with the freshwater. It reminded me of our first kiss, sweet and warm, and I smiled as he kissed me. "What is with you? You look like a puppy getting ready to go for a walk!" I giggled as he danced across the deck. His eyes were greener than I had ever seen them, and he moved like he was dancing with joy. He gr

His laugh was warm, effortless, carrying none of the panic Kayla felt coiling in her stomach like a live wire. "Little man, you’ve been listening to too many of your grandma’s stories about family heirlooms," he said, his voice carrying easily across the table. "I design jewelry as a hobby—made that one years ago for a friend who lost his original wedding band in a fishing accident. When Jordan mentioned he’d misplaced his, I offered to have it recreated for him. Your mommy’s just trying it on to make sure the size is right before I have the final engraving done."

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She reached for him, her arms open, her body an irresistible invitation. Their lips met in a fierce kiss, a clash of dominance and desire that left no room for hesitation. Sandra responded eagerly, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched against him. The tension between them ignited into a frenzy of heat and passion, their movements frantic and demanding. Sandra moaned softly as Sebastian’s lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver.

She had never thought words like that could make her hot and wet so quick. Francis leaned down and claimed her lips instantly earning a moan from her. Her brains literally went off from his sensational touch and heart melting kisses. She loved his kisses although they literally made her loose her sanity. He shoved his tongue into her mouth which she gladly accepted, she wrapped her arms around his neck wanting to taste him more and better.

We walked backwards because he wasn’t letting go. "Aww." I moaned softly when my back hit the edge of the table. He touched where I was hit, he put his hand inside my shirt and stroked my back, the part where it hurts. "Your lips always taste like strawberries, damn, I'm even more excited about you." He said, I blushed because of that. Trizhor's POV "Your lips always taste like strawberries, damn, I'm even more excited about you." I whispered to her, I smiled when I saw her blush. I looked at her lips when she bit it.

His kisses weren’t tender—they were war, staking claim over territory already battered. “I can’t stand it,” he rasped against my skin, his breath hot, ragged. “The way you look at me… and then you say his name—” His hand slid higher, squeezing, branding. “The fact that you two kissed… it drives me insane.” A sob broke from me, though I didn’t know if it was from anger or desire. My hands trembled against his chest, caught between pushing him back and pulling him closer. And when his lips crashed back to mine, I kissed him with the same fury, biting, taking, giving, hating.

Razor-fucking-sharp. I hold it up. The overhead light kisses the blade. Silas grits his teeth, that one eye tracking every motion. Like that'll help. I slice through his shirt. Clean. Straight down the middle. It parts like tissue paper. Then I press the blade to his bare chest. "This is for her." I start carving. Not deep. Just enough to mark him. The tip drags through his skin. Slow. Precise. I cut the A first. Silas grinds his molars so hard, I hear one crack.