When He Kisses Your Forehead Novels & Stories

, I frowned. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry. I had read somewhere that a forehead kiss means protection. It's respect. It says that you're mine and don't ever leave my side. It also says that I care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt. And last but not least, It says that I will come between you and whatever tried to hurt you." I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out of it. I could smell the geniuses of his feeling when he said those words to me.

He whispered before he kissed her forehead. He would do everything he could to make her see her true worth and make her more comfortable with accepting compliments.

He kissed my forehead more gently now. “You’re marked,” he whispered quietly against my skin. I did not answer. I could not even bring myself to speak, so I smiled instead.

Terrified. “I can’t stop looking at you,” he said. “Even when you hate me.” “I don’t hate you,” she said. Her voice broke. “I hate that I ever loved you.” And then it happened. He kissed her. Not soft. Not tender. But like drowning. Desperate. Raw. She let him. For a second. Then she pulled away. Breathless. Trembling. “This kiss,” she whispered, “isn’t forgiveness. It’s evidence.”

I say, kissing her forehead. "You did well love ."

“Yeah” Indeed, Antonio's response was immediate, a testament to the deep connection between us. He bent down and tenderly planted a kiss on my forehead. The sensation of his lips touching my skin sent a wave of warmth and affection surging through me, leaving me momentarily breathless. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes about his love and understanding.

He chuckled at her flustered face. He kissed her forehead, " You are so cute."

"Haha, no. You’re stuck with me." He leans in, kissing my forehead softly, "Oh no. That’s awful," he says sarcastically, his lips brushing against my skin just long enough to send a wave of warmth through me.

And again I stood there frozen as he moved closer and closer, and his hands went up to my neck. He caressed it gently, and I almost shut my eyes out of pleasure, and he kissed my forehead immediately. It was a gentle kiss and so refreshing. He kissed my forehead just like that!

He nodded and started the engine. When we got home, he walked me to the door, then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. What the hell was that? Was I his grandmother now? Since when did forehead kisses replace real ones? "Thanks for the grandma kiss, but I'm good." "So you want a kiss on the lips then?" His eyes were so intense that I couldn't help but blush. "I..I d.. don't know what you're t..talking about..." "You sure about that? Because it looks like you want to." He continued, locking eyes on my lips.