Thrown Kiss Novels & Stories

In that quiet room, with the sound of the gala fading into the background, the tension between them snapped like a taut wire. She reached up, grabbing the lapels of his tuxedo, and pulled him down to her. His lips crashed against hers, hard and desperate, and she kissed him back with equal fervor. It wasn’t a soft, tender kiss of love—it was a kiss of possession, of all the anger, frustration, longing, and fear that had built up between them for months. It was a way to claim each other, to say you’re mine even when they were fighting, to hold onto something real in a world that felt chaotic and unsteady. Liam’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, his body pressing against hers.

"I did give you everything." "No," Katerina said. She moved with precision and fury and heartbreak. "I gave myself to you. And I'm taking it back." She landed a devastating blow. Dimitri went down to one knee. He looked up at her and laughed. Actually laughed. "You still don't understand. You can never escape me. I'm in your bones. I'm in every breath. I own you." "You did," Katerina said. Her voice was hollow. Final. "But she doesn't. And that's enough."

So he did the only thing that came to him in that moment—he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. It was sudden, unexpected, and overwhelming. His lips were firm yet gentle, demanding yet tender. The kiss was an assertion, a way to remind her that she was still alive, still capable of feeling something other than fear. Esteria's initial shock melted into something warmer, deeper, as his kiss grew more insistent. Her hands, weak as they were, found their way to his shoulders, clutching at him as if he were her lifeline.

"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.

Ever. My heart melted when he finally kissed me back, painfully slow, as if he was trying to fight his own instincts and conceal his anger. An arm made its way to my neck, and I followed his movement, holding the back of his neck and savoring his lips. This felt so right. He was being so gentle and slow, as if he was trying to pour all of his hidden feelings into the kiss. I wanted it to last forever, but due to a lack of oxygen, I finally had to pull away.

Skye said, reassuringly squeezing his hand. Hector gazed into Skye's eyes, seeing pure interest and love reflected at him. His heart swelled with gratitude and affection for the woman who had become everything to him. He reached out, cupping her cheeks with his hands, and gently drew her closer until their lips met. The initial touch was soft, tender, and warm, but it was enough to ignite a spark of desire that deepened their kiss. Their lips and tongues moved in perfect harmony, and their hearts began to race.

I absolutely, unapologetically melted. My hands curled into his shirt, his hands pulled me close, and somewhere in the suite, I swear I heard Mr. Yellow gag dramatically behind a pillow. But neither of us cared. Because this kiss wasn’t just romance. It was a claim. A promise. A sizzling, toe-curling royal seal of vengeance, power, and love. And when we finally pulled apart, slightly breathless, I whispered— “Well… that was better than decapitation.” Edric smirked.

Instinctively, she licked her lips, only to meet his waiting ones. Without another thought, Ayaaz captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Both closed their eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of their raw and untamed passion for each other. Her heart skipped a beat as he began to devour her lips, tilting his face for better access. Ziniya, mirroring his action, reciprocated the kiss, her toes curling from the passionate grip he held on her. Her inexperience only fueled his possessiveness, and he deepened the kiss as if to forever seal his claim on her.

Their mouths melded in a tender embrace, a tableau of shared emotion and relief, a testament to the power of a kiss that needed no words to convey its depth. Time seemed to suspend itself in the breathless interlude of their kiss, their lips lingering in a communion that bore witness to the intertwining of souls. Antonio’s kiss held a fervency that spoke of pent-up emotions, a reservoir of feelings that had been contained and now surged forth in that simple yet profound gesture. A gentle collision of lips was followed by a bolder, more daring plunge, a fleeting moment of heightened connection that mirrored the urgency of their shared journey.

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.