When A Guy Kisses Your Hand While Holding It Novels & Stories

Olga said and flashed me a smile. He stretched out his hand to me and I wondered what I was supposed to do with it. Most times when women stretched out their hands like this, the gentleman in front of her kissed them gently. Now, did he expect me to also kiss his hand? I took the hand and wrapped it with two of mine. "Thank you for everything." I said shaking his hands with extra effort. "This one is just good for you!" He exclaimed pulling back his hand in horror. This was not so bad if it was my punishment.

“I know… but I want us to keep things casual from now on. More distance… to help both of us adjust and move on.” *God, why am I saying it as if we had an affair?* Suddenly, he took my hand, but not for a handshake. He lowered himself and pressed his lips to the back of my hand, his intense gaze lifting to meet mine. I felt my cheeks heat up. No one had ever done that to me before. I stiffened, but he didn’t let go. He closed his eyes and continued kissing my hand, slow and deliberate. The hand holding mine trembled slightly, as if he was pouring all his emotions into that single kiss.

I reached across the table and held his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you, Kane, for seeing me.” He smiles and pulls my hand up to his face and places a kiss on the back of my palm, tingles erupting on my skin and through my entire body. It made my breath hitch and if that was what a simple kiss to my hand felt like I could only imagine what a full kiss would make me feel. It gave me butterflies just thinking about it.

I was having my first serious kiss with a guy I liked. My hand went up to mess up his hair, but I restrained myself by sliding it down and wrapping that hand around his neck, placing the other on his chest. Well, shortly after, I skimmed my fingers over the hem of the shirt he wore inside the jacket. Eventually, humans have to breathe, unfortunately. I pulled back, but before we broke the kiss, he rolled my gum out of my mouth and into his. I gasped for air, while he gently pants.

I whispered against his lips, hand going up to his face, stroking the stubble. He returned the kiss, first soft, then deeper, hand going up my waist, squeezing lightly. I felt him harden against my thigh, cock already swelling in the sweatpants fabric. Smiled in the dark, took my hand there, squeezed slowly over the fabric, feeling him pulse in my palm. He held my hand, stopped the kiss for a second, worried voice. “You sure, love? You’re so shaken today… I don’t want to force anything.” I kissed him again, more urgent, hand squeezing harder, jerking him slowly over the pants.

His touch was warm, grounding, and then—without a word of warning—he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t a fleeting, gentle kiss meant to pacify the crowd. No, this was something else entirely. His lips claimed mine with a boldness that left no room for doubt. The world around us seemed to fade as his mouth moved against mine, slow and deliberate, his hand tilting my chin to deepen the kiss. His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer, as if to shield me from the weight of everyone’s stares.

He asked me as we have finally laid down and ready to head to sleep, and I went to lay on my right to get a good look at him who is about a foot away from me. Then, I offered him my left hand for him to hold while my other is under my head, and I do want to hold his hand in mine, too. It's comfy. And as he got a hold of it with his right one, he brought it to his lips and planted a kiss on my palm.

He studied me as though I was breakfast on his plate and he was about to devour. I saw his gaze travel downwards from my eyes and... landed on my lips. Oh my god! Perhaps I was overthinking it, but he looked like he wanted to kiss me. I let go of my grip on his ears to covered my mouth. His eyes widened a fraction, and suddenly smirked. To my shock, he unexpectedly lowered his head and landed a kiss on the back of my hand. A kiss on the hand was an extremely normal etiquette, and even a kiss on the cheek was typical. But on this sunny morning, I was completely taken away by this gentle kiss.

I just had to survive. Colton’s smirk deepened, a cruel glint dancing in his eyes as he took my trembling hand in his. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as he brought it to his lips. He kissed my hand slowly, deliberately, savoring the contact as if it were something sacred to him. His lips, warm and insistent, lingered for just a second longer than necessary, sending an uncomfortable shiver through my body.

He slides his warm palm against mine, then laces our fingers together. "What are you doing?" I ask, looking up at him. "What is this?" "I believe this is called hand-holding. People do it when they are fond of another person." He smiles, his eyes flaring with amusement. "Or when they want to piss off someone's mother." "And which one is this?" "A bit of both."