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Wednesday, November 27, 2013

First Kiss Wednesday


Kisses are the mainstay of romance writing.  No matter how sweet or spicy our stories are, they usually involve at least a kiss or two.  And the first kiss is especially lovely - that first, soft touch of lips - or perhaps the kiss is fierce and hungry.  Maybe the characters murmur words of love or words of teasing while discovering the texture and taste of each other.  Maybe the only sounds they can emit are gentle, timorous moans or deep, throaty groans.
 
Okay, now that we've set the premise, here's what you can do for First Kiss Wednesdays.  In the comment box, give us a maximum of 300 words of the first kiss of a published work or a work-in-progress and one link to your website or blog or Amazon Author Page. 
 
Read and luxuriate in the glories of the first kiss...

Oh, and lips only...  ;-)

6 comments:

Rowena May O'Sullivan said...

It was as if she had spun a web and he was trapped in the strands. And what a web she could weave. He had been lost when she’d tantalized him with the promise of something sweet. No! If he were honest with himself, it was before then. The raffle tickets on the coffee table at the cottage bore tangible witness to that fact.
His hand snaked out and cupped her neck. Her raven hair slid like silk against the back of his hand. He issued a warning. “You’re playing with fire.” Her strawberry-moistened lips were made for kissing.
“Some things,” she murmured with conviction, “are better hot.”
Stop now. Pull back and insist she’s mistaken. Don’t do it! His palm moved, and his fingers splayed through her bolt of hair, fingering, massaging, and memorizing the luxurious feel of it cascading over his skin. His fingers, those of an artist, cupped the back of her neck, holding it secure while his thumb softly traced her pulse which surged into overdrive.
Hunger reflected back at him from her beautiful, emerald eyes. Dragons’ Breath! She wanted him, and for one crazy moment he thought he saw her future reflect back at him and he was part of it.
With stealth, he wrapped the cloak of his deception about him. He lowered his head, positive she would bolt when she realized her error in inviting his kiss. But she remained resolute, eyes open and inflamed with the same fierce need as his. There was a second when all he learned and all he knew merged, and his thoughts echoed her words spoken only moments before—some things are better hot—before he dipped his head and did what he had wanted to do since first setting eyes on Rosa Greenwood.
He kissed her.

The Silver Rose - Book 1 in the Greenwood Witches trilogy. http://www.amazon.com/Silver-Rose-Crimson-Romance-ebook/dp/B009VLZLIK/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1385539086&sr=8-4&keywords=the+silver+rose

Jane Leopold Quinn said...

Whoo-eee. Very nice!

Jane Leopold Quinn said...

From my erotic M/F, Lost and Found, out next year at Ellora's Cave

As they reached her front porch, she was poised to hustle inside. He wouldn't be getting any more free shows, damn it all. But as nice as it would be to spend some time with a luscious woman like Phoebe, he hadn't come home for that.

But still, it had been a long time since he'd enjoyed a woman's body. Phoebe was such a hot little number, all sensual singer combined with an obvious sweetness with her friends. Just one kiss. What would that hurt? Reaching for her hands, he tugged them up to rest on his shoulders and wrapped his around her tiny waist, the firm curve flaring out to soft hips. He fought palming her ass and pressing it against his erection.

Gazing down at her, she seemed calm enough as if this happened to her all the time. It probably did if he knew Butch. Cold fury roared through him at the thought of Butch putting his hands on her. Where that came from he didn't know. Maybe Butch really cared for her, but it hadn't seemed like she returned the feelings.

Her mouth parted. She was waiting for him to make his move. Her tongue darted out moistening her lips. A woman's tongue was one of the many things that triggered his arousal. He brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs prodding her chin up. She pushed up on her toes until their chests touched and her fingers slid up into his hair. It all happened so naturally, so easily. And then their lips met.

Once he started, he wanted to ravish her. It had been too fucking long since he'd had a woman. But he held himself in check and softly brushed her mouth, her warm breath searing his heart. Caressing her lips, he nibbled, sucking first her top then her bottom lip. Re-angling his head, he held her steady and kissed her like the starving man he realized he was.

Blood beat through his ears. In his head, he could hear his own tortured breathing. She made soft little sounds in her throat that sounded like arousal to him, like encouragement. Her fingers in his hair, yanking at the strands, felt like encouragement, too. Her breasts flattened against his chest.

Juli D. Revezzo said...

This is from my new holiday romantic mystery MURDER UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR available at Amazon: http://amzn.to/IifTh9

“I’ll tell you a secret.”
“What?”
“Remember when I introduced you to my dad, on the docks?”
Helene nodded, the memory flooding back. She also recalled how nervous she’d been. Sick for days after hoping he’d call. He never did.
“He liked you,” Sean said.
His laugh told her she must be gaping like a fish. She licked her lips. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I was stupid.” His arms snaked around her, pulling her closer. “Forgive me? For not calling sooner, I mean?”
A vision of pinning him against the door offered perfect inspiration with which to torture him. “I’m not sure.”
He leaned in and kissed her. All sense flew and she opened, welcoming the chance to explore, her tongue parrying with his in a wild dance of lust. The envelope of pictures she held dropped to the floor and she wound her arms around him.
She loved a man who tasted the way he did: like malt chocolate, better than any she’d ever sampled. Heaven. She froze, and blinked at him. Willing her heart to pull back, slow before it battered free of her ribs.
What did you do? Oh, dear God, what did you do?
She cleared her throat. “Sean, I shouldn’t—” She wiggled, desperate to get away, drawn to stay. He held her caged within his arms. “I need to go.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice was rough with desire.
To hell with duty.

Rachell Nichole said...

This is from my holiday romance, SPICY WITH A SIDE OF CRANBERRY SAUCE...

“You don’t sound sorry. You… Damn it.” The words were forceful, and as he gazed down at her, the anger in his eyes changed to something darker. Desire swirled in the bright blue pools, turning them a deeper shade. Her mouth went dry. She tried to drop her hands, but he moved with her, pancaking her between his body and the wall. Her hands stayed firmly on his pecs while his arms caged her in on either side of her head.
“Look, whatever we thought after our not so chance meeting, that’s off the table now. Never going to happen.” She wouldn’t let them succumb to the heat swirling between them. She would not—
Amy stopped thinking as Mason lowered his head to hers. He crushed his lips against hers, and she moaned, her eyes sliding closed.
She moved her hands up his chest and neck, snaking them into his curls and holding him close as his hot mouth devoured hers. He pushed his body into her, and she slid her tongue out to lick across his lips. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she was glad for his body so tightly pressed against hers and for the wall behind her. If not for both, she would have melted into a puddle of need at his feet.
He drove away all her uncertainties about the holiday. Pushed aside her fears and her hope and left her open and raw to his explorations. Her world narrowed to him. His mouth on hers, his hair beneath her fingers, his hard chest pressed into her breasts. She never wanted him to stop. But when Mason pulled back from the kiss, she could think again.
How dare he kiss her?
She’d been fighting with him, damn it. But she’d kissed him right back. Now her breathing was shallow, her face flushed. And it wasn’t all from anger.


Available here... http://amzn.to/12B8TR1

Harris Channing said...

Hi! Here's my...I mean Bobbie and David's first kiss from IN SARAH'S SHADOW...

"I don't want to go, David. Please. I hate it out here. I'll do whatever you say. Just don't make me leave until spring."
Her pleas pricked his conscience, but didn't she understand what she was doing to him? "Bobbie, I told you last week this was going to happen."
She stopped moving, her body lax against his grip as she used the worst form of resistance…passive resistance. It made even the lightest object heavy. He jerked her roughly forward, her supple body slamming harshly against him. He could smell the sweet scent of her soap, his ache increasing as she set her hands against his chest.
"I'll carry you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, if I have to."
Her breath fanned warmly across his face and tears hung on the rims of her gray eyes. "I haven't bothered you. I stayed out of your way. Do you hate me so much?"
Hate her? Damnation, he didn't hate her. He wanted her. Wanted her with a desperation he'd only ever felt once before. That was what he hated.
Her lower lip trembled and without thought of consequence he leaned in and grabbed the back of her head. "Hate you? I want to take you to my bed, steal your innocence and become an unfaithful husband."
A tremor ran over her body, yet she did not speak. Her eyes wide with misty alarm and a flicker of what…did he dare think for a moment… desire?
"I told you, if you stay I will ruin you." His words came out in a raspy rush. "Hate you? No. Not at all. I'm trying to protect you."
He inched ever closer. One kiss, perhaps one kiss would lift the lid and cool the steaming cauldron that bubbled within him. Perhaps one kiss and she would willingly agree to the separation.
All conscience fled as he took her lower lip between his. Damn but she tasted delightful. His desire did not ease. Instead it spiraled out of control, every inch of him bursting to life for the first time in five years. The fog from last night’s whiskey lifted, replaced by the need to possess this woman, a need that had him increasing the pressure of his kiss and of his embrace. God help him, she bent to his will, her supple form melding sweetly against him.
Her small moan of approval had him easing his grip, his hands traveling down the length of her body as he pressed her ever closer. His entire being trembled as she opened her mouth to receive his probing tongue. Hate her? Only if he couldn’t contain himself.


Here's a link to my website if you want buy information. And I'm not going to lie! I hope you do! :)

http://www.authorharrischanning.com/in-sarahs-shadow.html