Wednesday Kisses Novels & Stories

I say, my voice trembling slightly, “thank you for coming for me, for all of this.” He steps closer, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold night air. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. You mean everything to me, Cheryl.” Before I can respond, he leans in, his lips brushing mine in a tender, urgent kiss. The intensity of the moment, the danger, and our shared fear make the kiss more passionate than I expected. I find myself clinging to him, losing myself in the comfort of his touch.

I want this craziness between us to end but no matter how hard I try, I can't seemed to stop either, it's crazy but it was happening. "Wendy, just this once," he breathed, his lips so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of his breath. "Let me take care of you without you trying to form some independent woman shit! Just let me handle things." Before I could respond, George closed the remaining distance between us, capturing my lips in a heated kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in that moment, our emotions raw and unfiltered. His kiss was demanding, yet filled with a passion that left me breathless.

“Let us turn the heat up.” Wesley broke the kiss slowly, but he didn’t move far. His mouth brushed against mine as he spoke. “Those scrubs are cute as hell,” he said, his voice a rumble. “But I want to see what’s underneath.”

Waves lapped at our feet as he pulled me further into his lap to kiss me again I wanted to kiss him for eternity with just the sun and the waves as the world. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured reverently, taking a strand of hair and tucking it carefully behind my ear. “So are you,” I replied, blushing. I wished my words were better, but they were still true. His chest was hot and smooth against my bare arms as he pulled me into yet another mind-shattering kiss. “Charlotte is going to wonder where we are,” I said with a giggle as the sun continued her climb. “Let her worry for a moment,” Bastian whispered, his lips going to my throat. I moaned softly as he nipped the delicate flesh. I was t

He tasted so good, I knew I could never get enough. I could have kissed him for hours. Leo knew how to kiss me, knew exactly which way to move and how to open me up to him. But I didn't want to just kiss him. I wanted to make love to him, and if the growing hardness pressed against my lower stomach was any indication, he wanted it too. I broke away, grinning as I put my hand to his chest. “Mr. Westbrook, I do believe you need to relax. And I happen to know just how to do it.”

It catches on the edge of my mask. Wes immediately starts to stand. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worry in his voice. “Did I do something wrong?” I stand too, eager to set things right. “No, Wes. Nothing is wrong.” Overwhelmed with affection for him, I near him, press myself up to my toes, and place a whisper of a kiss against the corner of his mouth. His eyes widen slightly, even as his concern dims. “Thank you,” I tell him. “You’ve made me feel very special.”

Adelynn whispered, her voice seductively low. "What?" Jensen blinked, surprised. "Can I kiss you? Promise me you won't kiss and tell?" She asked and his eyes widened. She began to lean closer, not realizing how fast Jensen's heart was starting to pound. Her lips met his, her eyes fluttering close. Jensen's hands settled around her waist, a smile tugging at his lips when he heard her moan. When they pulled away, she rested her head against his chest. Weakly, she pounded her fists against his hard chest.

The corner of the wood presses into my spine, and I understand with a sudden quiet clarity that I have run out of room, both in the literal sense and in some other sense I do not have time to examine. My heart hammers harder than it did before my Nationals program, which feels like it should mean something, though I cannot decide if it means excitement or warning. "Weston," I start. He does not let me finish. The kiss is not tentative. It is not asking anything. It moves with the confidence of someone who has done this exact thing many times before, in many other dorm rooms, with minor variations. One hand braces against the desk beside my hip. The other settles at my waist with enough press

His face in the Vegas light is the face I have known since I was nineteen years old and the ring on my finger is Ethan's and the party behind me is Marcus's and the balcony is the only place in this entire weekend that feels like mine, and Chase is standing in it. I don't say it. I close the distance. I kiss him. It is not like the rain, which was tender, and it is not like the coatroom, which was heat and desperation. It is something else, something that has the specific quality of a person who has stopped fighting a current and just let it take them, and he kisses me back the way he always does, like I am the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. Three seconds. Five. The flash

Diva was confused when her lips met Blaze's. Why out of all the brides was he getting married to her? How did something like this happen to her? All she did was witness a murder. Nothing more, and nothing less. She couldn't believe that she was married now-not to mention, to Blaze Hudson, who was practically a celebrity. The wedding kiss wasn't even a kiss. It was just two pairs of lips brushing against each other with a sense of urgency. It had no emotion whatsoever. This was not how Diva pictured her special day.