The French Kiss Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Really? After all the thousand paged stories you've told me about yourself?" He leaned forward with his hands locked beside me, pinning me to where I sat. His face was only a kiss away from me. "You haven't heard a quarter of my chronicle." He kissed my nose. "That was book one." He traced his kiss to my forehead. "You haven't heard book two." He kissed my left cheek. " And book three." He kissed my right cheek. "And the most interesting part of the sequel_" he settled his lustful eyes on my lips, bringing the colour to my face. "Book four." Like a gentleman, he captured my lips in a warm kiss, taking his time to massage each layer with his lips. His electric touches beckoned unto the sleep

She was overwhelmed. "Call me Ah Yan" he ordered in his husky voice. She ignored him. He bit her ear gently and breathed into it to make her gasp. She took the bait as he took the opportunity to invade her mouth and resumed the kiss. He caught her tongue and intertwined it with his. "Ahhhhhhh". Shit! This was the legendary French Kiss. She hated it because she thought it was disgusting, but... it didn't sound so bad. She detected something on her legs and thought that it was his leg trying to hold her down and ignored it.

I tilted my face toward his, close enough to feel his breath. "Three… two…" "Vienna…" he murmured, just as the room exploded in cheers. "One! Happy New Year!" Before I could overthink, he reached for me. One hand slid into my hair, the other settled at the small of my back, and he kissed me—full, slow, and deep. A real French kiss under Parisian lights. Oh god. Was I actually doing this? It felt so good. Too good. Like biting into a forbidden apple. Sweet, intoxicating, dangerous.

I found myself aching to kiss him. Robbie raised the bucket over my head, his strong arms steady as he prepared to pour it. I stepped in close to him, and he let the water fall over us. I stood on tiptoe and found his lips with mine, the water cascading around us. This kiss wasn't the innocent first taste of love between two friends. Robbie didn't freeze this time, no longer a boy unsure of oncoming masculinity. This time, he let the bucket fall, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pressed his lips against mine. His body met mine, his heat seeping through wet clothes and filling me with a fire of want. Our tongues met, the taste of freshwater mixing in with the kiss. It was sweet and clean

His fingers tightened around my hand, stopping it just above the waistband of his trousers. “It’s too late,” I whispered, kissing the heat of his chest. My eyes met his, daring, desperate. “Isn’t this always what you wanted?” A growl escaped his throat before he scooped me up, lifting me away from the door. His mouth crushed mine, rougher now, breaking past the walls he had tried to keep. The kiss was nothing like before—sweet, wet, deep. A French kiss that left no space for air, only heat. My whole body melted into his, a fire I couldn’t contain.

I am too young that time. I closed my eyes tightly when I suddenly step forward towards Mr. Woods and kiss him. It was just a fast and a swift kiss. I immediately step back and stared at him. He is looking at me eyes widened. His lips parted while staring at me. "Goodnight, I will get inside already. Bye." I uttered nervously and left him there. What the hell did you do, Kellah Fazandra?????

All I wanted was to drink his champagne kisses. Dean's hands flew all over me, touching me in places I hadn't been touched in quite a while. I felt the lust coursing through his body as he tugged at my shirt, and I wanted more. I wanted it so badly that I found myself jumping up and wrapping my legs around him before he even had the chance to remove my shirt. His hands grabbed me around the waist and held me up as we passionately kissed each other. My fingers went to the bottom of his ripped t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

I needed him. He worked the jean shorts down my long legs before untying my bikini bottoms. Those, too, were off my legs in a heartbeat. He began to kiss up my legs, past my knees, working toward my thighs... I knew where he was going, and I knew my own body better than he did. After all the walking, the parasailing, and the alcohol, I wasn't at my freshest. I grabbed him by the hair, but he kept moving up. "Owen, you don't have to... to..." I stopped as his tongue met my labia, unable to speak any longer.

I found myself aching to kiss him. Robbie raised the bucket over my head, his strong arms steady as he prepared to pour it. I stepped in close to him, and he let the water fall over us. I stood on tiptoe and found his lips with mine, the water cascading around us. This kiss wasn't the innocent first taste of love between two friends. Robbie didn't freeze this time, no longer a boy unsure of oncoming masculinity. This time, he let the bucket fall, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pressed his lips against mine. His body met mine, his heat seeping through wet clothes and filling me with a fire of want. Our tongues met, the taste of freshwater mixing in with the kiss. It was sweet and clean