Spiritpact Kiss Novels & Stories

Silver orbs piercing a set of light blue eyes. Rose licked her lips again. Stephano's heartbeat accelerated before he gulped. Their mouths getting closer before their lips touched forming a tender kiss.

"Kiss me," she breathed out in a soft, urgent plea, "Kiss me, please." Immediately she said those words, Blaze's lips met Astrid's with a fiery intensity, initiating a kiss that set their worlds ablaze. Their tongues entwined in a fervent dance, momentarily leaving them breathless, caught in the magnetic pull of their desire.

My heart pounding in my chest and pulse racing; I waited for the moment when our lips would finally kiss. Then, for that moment when even time seemed to stand still, Visha pressed her lips against mine. The sensation was a small spark of electricity and a pulse of pleasure coursed through my body. The rhythm of our lips locked into perfect synchronicity, with the gentle pressure building in intensity as our kiss deepened. I felt myself melting into her, bodies combining into one as lips danced together.

No, this is heaven, I decided, losing the rest of my thoughts to his gentle lips and tongue. I sighed with contentment when he pulled away. His kisses were magical. He grinned at me. “You ready?” I nodded. “Yup.” “First, we'll go to our knees,” he explained. “Find the sweet spot, where the balance is best.” “That's what she said,” I quipped. Bastian burst out laughing, stopping in his demonstration and nearly falling into the water. “Just get up on your knees,” he told me, splashing water at me with his hands.

“Tell me already Adam.” “You are seriously beautiful that my spirit is disturbed most days. My mind fills with all the possibilities that life together can holds for us. Whenever we talked on the site, I knew I could and have fallen for you. Your eyes and lips are like magnets to me. Most days I thought about what it would be like to kiss you. You have the lips I always dreamed about.” “I never cared for compliments, Adam but you managed to reach me. I know the end result will surprise us both.”

Esper answered. Seraph pulled her into a passionate kiss, tangling his fingers in her hair. Sparks lit up through Esper's entire body as she kissed the male vampire back. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt his teeth tugging on her lower lip. Seraph tightened his grip on her as he growled in approval, pulling her snug against him. Esper dug her nails into his shoulders and nipped Seraph's lower lip back, rousing a groan of pleasure from him. He dragged one of his hands down her back and grasped her thighs, pressing his nails into her curves. They both broke for air, their breath heavy and ragged.

Then, without saying another word, Claire leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a soft, gentle kiss. As our lips touched, I felt a spark of electricity run through me, sending shivers down my spine. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, but it was filled with a depth of emotion that left me breathless. I deepened the kiss, my tongue brushing against hers, and Claire responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow me to explore the warmth of her mouth.

“Then why are you here?” “Because when I kissed you, I felt something.” She closed her eyes. “I felt it too.” Another pause. Then— “I hate you for it,” she whispered. “I hate myself more.” And then it happened again. Another kiss. But this time—slower. Angrier. Wetter. Their mouths collided like grief meeting hunger. He gripped her waist like she was an anchor. She kissed him like he was a mistake she wanted to make again. But she stopped first.

Like it was exactly where she was supposed to be. He kissed her. Not for cameras. Not for a narrative. Not for anyone or anything except the two of them at a window in Singapore with the truth out in the world and thirty years of other people's careful planning finally at rest around them. When they pulled back she was aware of the room. Of Priya very deliberately looking at her laptop. Of Adaeze very deliberately looking at her phone. Of Grace at the table with Catherine. Grace was looking at them. Not with the watchful assessment she brought to everything.

Marigold replied with a sarcastic laughing emoji, followed by a stack of documents—Chester's years of bank transfers, the insurance policies he purchased, and a record of Florence transferring 300,000 dollars to the truck driver's wife under the guise of personal compensation. Marigold was the friend who had worked at a bank. These underhanded dealings didn't escape her scrutiny. The truth quickly hit me like a bucket of ice water. Marigold said to me, "Ivy, I've been waiting for you. If a man breaks your heart, come back to me. Let's spend our lives together." We had known each other for over two decades, and she often joked like that. Back then, I would laugh along and tease her, saying, "