When He Kisses Your Forehead Novels & Stories

Then he faced me, brushed my hair behind my ear. “It’s just the blood,” he whispered. “You’re okay. You’re supposed to bleed, right? First time. Yeah?” Yeah. I knew that. But I stared down. Heavens knew I was ashamed. I wasn’t even sure of anything at that point. Hayden lifted my chin gently to look at him. Our eyes met, and he smiled. “I’m an ugly mess.” He shook his head. Then he leaned over and planted a kiss on my forehead. He looked at me again, my chin still in his hands.

she breathed against his lips, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Ray froze for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. Then, with a tenderness that made her heart ache, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her lips. "I love you too," he whispered back. The rest of the world faded away as they lost themselves in each other, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. Every kiss, every touch, was filled with a sense of urgency, as if they were trying to make up for all the time they’d lost.

He kissed me gently, then pulled back before placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “So what is this surprise?”

“Benjamin kissed me.” “What?” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes. He kissed me,” I said, rubbing my throat. “You mean, like, he really kissed you? Wow!” Her eyes sparkled like she was already imagining a love scene. I quickly shook my head, realizing she misunderstood. “No, not on the lips. He kissed my forehead.” “Oh…” Her excitement dropped for a second, but it didn’t last long. “Still, why would he kiss your forehead? Does he like you?” she asked, already convinced. “Remember how I always said he might like you, and you never believed me? Well, look now!”

Tipping my chin up, he leaned in and brushed his lips on mine oh-so-gently. He was not a gentle person, but with me, he was and I appreciated his efforts. A kiss landed on my cheek and I closed my eyes to feel the warmth of it. His lips traced down to my chin and then the other cheek. Last, when they touched my forehead, he whispered, “My beautiful Rose.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. "No!" I laughed, shaking my head. He chuckled lowly before pulling me against him, my face pressing into his chest. His scent wrapped around me—warm, musky, intoxicating. His lips brushed against my forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "I love you so much, Kasmine." He whispered in a voice too tender that I almost missed before he kissed my forehead tenderly. "I love you."

he signed back. His words, simple yet profound, conveyed a depth of feeling that surprised even him. He had never felt this way about anyone before, a connection that transcended words and boundaries. Chaos leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “At least let me kiss your forehead,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing. He gently caressed her cheek, his touch tender and comforting.

He caressed my hairs and cheeks before kissing my forehead. I wondered if kissing forehead was some habit of these people and smiled in my haze. He let me hold him to sleep and even kissed my forehead. Was it really just friendship or was it more? The questions flashed and lost in my head. It was not a matter of thinking anyways, what will finding answers would do? I let myself fall deeper in sleep with a calm mind and easeful sleep. The pain in my neck finally eased a little because of his constant massaging of my hair but that might just be my delusion from sleep.

I say, even though I know exactly the response he wants to hear. “You’re leaving out one thing.” “I was only naming a few.” “Hmm.” He mumbles and chuckles lightly. “I forgot how smart you are.” He leans closer and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I noticed giving me forehead kisses is his habitual gesture of affection. It’s tender and affectionate and I love it. “We are going to engage in an activity, alright? But not separately. In fact, the activity is going to have us be so close, we will nearly fuse together.”

He kissed my forehead softly, and it gave me a strange sense of comfort. “I love you so much, Maddie,” he whispered. I was too tired to reply, but I heard him. And as I drifted off to sleep, that simple kiss on my forehead felt like a quiet promise—one that something good was waiting for us ahead.