Your Lips Are Venomous Poison の小説・ストーリー

But now, it was different, completely different! She nodded slowly and leaned closer to Elvin's face, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. As she was about to pull away, he suddenly bit her lower lip to keep it connected to his warm lips. She felt his tongue enter her mouth, and she willingly allowed it. Once again, they engaged in passionate kissing. It was intense, filled with desire and sincerity. They exchanged saliva and battled their tongues as if they were weapons. As they say, the tongue is like a weapon in strength, causing her to almost lose herself in the bed while savoring Elvin's passionate kisses over and over.

Damon answered, his voice laced with sarcasm and a slight involuntary smile crept in the corner of my lips. His mouth will get him killed faster than I found him. I smirked. "Hey, boy, mind your mouth or else we will throw you into our dungeons and let our pets feast on your tongue." Elder Leon declared with a scowl and my smile faded away immediately. The pets he meant were called Lingua Mortis. This terrifying ancient little beast, was no bigger than a human hand, which possessed an insatiable appetite for all kinds of animal tongues including that of wolves.

"Miss Alice won? So fast. It's not interesting at all.” Lieu Song Lien vaguely replied. “You play me. Your lips are poisonous. You took advantage of my habits.” Lac Hong Hao quickly lost interest in the immediate pleasure. "How does it count as taking advantage. This is called retaliation. Not even in the gift, you stabbed me there is a poison with a strong concentration." “But will you also be poisoned? It's the same thing when using poison on yourself." “My lips are camouflaged by a layer of fake lips. How can I be like you?"

Gabriel’s breath hitches and he stands straight as I roughly push myself away from him, taking a step back, wiping my cyanide-coated fingertips against the fabric of the apron. “Thanks for providing me a room with so many beauty supplies,” I say, quite casual, as his breath starts to come short. “The petroleum jelly is very useful for chapped lips and…” I wave my fingertips at him. “Keeping poisons from entering through the skin.” “You bitch,” he rasps, stumbling back, oxygen already starting to fail him. “Have – have you killed me?”

With a feral snarl, Louis ripped out her throat. Her body slumped to the ground, her lifeless eyes still open. Louis swallowed down the thick taste of blood, his vision burning red as he turned toward the enemy wolves— And charged.

The moon goddess herself descended down to earth. Only to love me… to be with me She became my dream girl. As I dreamt only in her presence. She is the fire who scorched me affectionately. And I let my heart char in her hands intentionally. Her shiny glossed lips Are two-line poem mix When she wet them with her tongue That sight makes me go drunk. She is the vixen I intend to marry. An enemy who tastes like cherry Her body is like a deep ocean. And I drown inside her with no intention

came a familiar feminine voice dripping with malice. Lana appeared in my line of sight, her red lips stretching into a cruel smile. “How do you like the taste of wolfbane?” Wolfbane? Had she poisoned me with wolfbane? That explained the symptoms I was experiencing. She reached for my chin, her touch making my skin crawl. I wanted to free myself from her grasp, but I felt paralysed. I couldn’t even move my head. “It works so well, doesn’t it?” she purred. “It puts puny insects like you where you belong.” She gave my jaw a painful squeeze before letting go.

She kissed my chin, planting a slow tender bite on my lower lip. "I like it when my enemies are oblivious of my attacks. There's nothing more befitting than shocking your enemies with an element of surprise. If I were you, I wouldn't tempt a hungry man with his favorite meal." I bent forward to lick her right hear. She clasped her hand on my triceps, saving herself from falling away.

I sneered. I calmly looked at him as he took the cup, drank a large gulp, and quickly spat the water out. "Hot! Whot did youth do?" His tongue was so burned that his speech became slurred. "Just disinfecting your mouth a little," I replied. I looked at the lipstick mark on his shirt with disdain. It was the same shade as what Melissa was wearing. I added, "If you keep licking cheaply made lipstick, you'll end up with lead poisoning."

On the night of their fourth wedding anniversary, Raymond Whitmore stood on a Boston stage and unveiled a perfume called Eternal Claire, dedicating it to the woman he swore he would love until his last breath. The world called it the most romantic gesture of the year. Claire called it a cage with a golden lid. Because thirty minutes later, a stranger sent her a video of that same perfume being poured over another woman's naked chest, in a suite two floors below the ballroom, by her husband's very hands. For four years, Claire had traded her PhD, her name, and her silence for a marriage the tabloids envied. In return, she got a mother-in-law who called her barren, a husband who called h