Since today is Valentine’s Day I’m celebrating by posting a plethora of romantic first kisses and by giving away a print book. I have several so the winner will have to tell me which he/she prefers. It’s my Valentine From a Valentine Contest.
It’s easy to enter. All you have to do is post a comment and tell me which of these first kisses from my books and WIPs is your favorite. You can choose it for its sweetness or its heat or because the book it came from is one of your favorites…anything goes. You just need to tell me which kiss and why.
Your choice of an autographed copy of Fire Season, Honorable Silence, Love Me Dead, Common Ground, Tales of the Darkworld Volume One, or Ride the Lightning.
They were nearly the same height but Garrick had a slight inch on Will. Still, their mouths were so close together, they already shared breaths. Garrick knew in the marrow of his bones that soon they would share more. That knowledge drove him to take the mouth of his mate with soft urgency, asking for Will’s capitulation rather than demanding as most Alphas would. At first, the firm lips beneath his own held a touch of Alpha resistance at being taken, but the instant he touched the tip of his tongue to that cool flesh, the man in his arms moaned and became his.
Lips parted, both his own and Will’s. They both sighed, breaths mingling as their hearts thudded in tandem, and they slowly, with absolute irrevocability, breathed each other in. The slightly muddied thoughts Garrick had gotten from Will only moments before shifted to an ice sharp clarity that stabbed his psyche, piercing it with the revelation that he would never be the same again. He belonged to Will. Will belonged to him. They were one whether they completed their mating or not. Destiny could be ignored, but never denied.
The kiss took on a familiarity that spoke of past lives together – if one believed in the reincarnation of souls – and a rightness that settled into Garrick’s head as firmly as Will’s thoughts did. Fear licked him as his tongue traced the edge of Will’s teeth. He understood that Will heard his thoughts now as clearly as he heard Will’s. Their bond ensured neither of them would ever be alone again and the loss of privacy morphed momentarily into a loss of self fear. But it dissolved almost as quickly as it had come when his tongue twined with the heated roughness of Will’s.
Tasting Will had all the qualities of sipping the finest Cabernet Sauvignon. Will’s flavor burst onto Garrick’s tongue in the same way that the wine’s tannins did, the tartness providing an edge of danger to the elegance. Firm muscles rippled beneath Garrick’s wandering free hand, reinforcing the notion that for all his sophistication, the man in his arms had more depth than a simple clothes horse. Will’s hands closed on Garrick’s buttocks and the Magia had no idea whose hips moved first, but the seductive brush of cloth covered erections made it obvious that it didn’t matter. They were both equally aroused.
While their bodies moved against each other with a friction and urgency that grew incrementally as each second ticked by, the kiss retained its sweetness. Their lips brushed together as they shared breaths, their tongues flicking with a delicacy the rest of their bodies eschewed. Finally, Garrick pulled back and gazed into Will’s eyes, noting the passion that blazed from the dark depths.
Major Sebastian Marchetti and Lt. Colonel Ryder Beckett in Afterburner (Honorable Silence anthology-MLR Press)
“So you’re my replacement.” Bas flashed a smile at the other man before crossing the room toward the door. “They were quick.”
As he spoke, a hand gripped his elbow and spun him around. Surprised, he got a glimpse of dark blue eyes sparkling with excitement before a hard mouth came down on his. A bolt of sheer lust rocked him. As Ryder’s tongue pressed for entrance, Bas opened his mouth, thrilling to the taste of the other man. Minty, smoky, and fueled with high octane arousal. Hard hands swept his back, his shoulders, and finally his buttocks. Involuntarily, Bas thrust against Ryder’s body and through the layers of their clothes he felt the erection that rivaled his own.
And then the kiss ended.
Standing with chest heaving, two full feet between them, Sebastian stared at Ryder Beckett in pure shock. An Air Force officer, a jet pilot, had kissed him. Blatantly. Sexually. Forcefully.
“I figured I should just get that out of the way before we went any further,” Ryder said, his voice deep and husky with arousal.
“I never thought I would have the opportunity to speak these words to you, but, Ains, I want you,” he murmured, his fingers slipping into the open neckline of her silk shirt.
Her breath caught audibly in her throat when he stroked her skin. Swiftly and expertly, he unbuttoned her shirt, letting it fall from her body. He marveled at the satin of her skin. She wore no bra, and her full breasts tantalized him, the hard, dusky tips standing at attention. His groin fired anew.
Then, for the first time in all the years they’d known one another, he bent his head and kissed her. The softness of her lips seduced him. Liquid fire rushed through his veins, and his control snapped. His tongue brushed the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth, shivering as he licked at the wet flesh inside. The taste of her intoxicated him more than the finest champagne, and he floated on a euphoric cloud, all because he was finally kissing Ainsley.
Aric’s hands glided up her naked back, pressing her against his chest, her unconfined breasts molding themselves to his hard contours. The sensation of those hard nipples poking into his pecs through the thin material of his t-shirt couldn’t be denied. He reached up to cup the firm mounds. Ainsley began to shake, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue no longer teasing but demanding. He pushed past her teeth and took control of her tongue, coaxing it into his mouth. He sucked on it lightly while his fingers made short work of her jeans.
The denim slid down her thighs. Aric broke the kiss, needing to see her silken skin, touch it, and taste it. He resisted, only letting himself look.
She turned to find Marcus close behind her, grey eyes intent. She shook her head. “You don’t want me. I’m broken, Marcus. My body, my heart, my soul. All broken. Just like Humpty Dumpty in the Earth nursery rhyme, you cannot put me together again.”
“Let me try.”
His soft words prefaced the kiss he pressed to her surprised mouth. Startled, her lips parted. Despite all the years that had passed since their last kiss, and how badly he must need sexual release, Marcus’s mouth remained soft on hers. His gentle care for her cracked her defenses as nothing else could have. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she moaned. Marcus’s arms came around her, holding her tenderly.
“Tait,” he breathed. “I missed you. I missed this… touching you, tasting you, loving you.”
A whimper escaped her as her heart took flight. His kiss deepened, his tongue teasing the inside of her lower lip, flicking out to tease the tip of her tongue. The years and the pain fell away as she breathed in his scent. She melted against him, her body remembering his instinctively. He filled her senses so completely that the horrors she’d endured faded. Only the man who held her and kissed her mattered.
Tentatively, her tongue touched his. He drew in a harsh breath and his arms tightened around her carefully. Marcus’s tongue tangled with hers. Tait shuddered. She felt like Sleeping Beauty, Marcus’s kiss bringing her back to life. Her love for him came roaring out of hibernation as she kissed him back. She slipped back into the familiar role of a woman secure in the love showered upon her by the man who stood at the center of her universe.
The kiss felt different than any they had ever shared. Pain, heartbreak, and horror colored the edges of it, but the simple wonder of Marcus’s mouth on hers made Tait eager to grab more than just a taste. Suddenly, it didn’t matter what had been done to her body between this moment and the last time Marcus had touched her. The reality was that she only ever came alive when he held her. And for the moment, the only part of the past that mattered was what they had shared. The familiar press of his erection against her belly made her want to cry. She ached to just collapse in his arms and sob out the agony of the last six years. She needed his love to heal her, but she couldn’t ask him for it nor could she expect it after everything that had happened. But maybe she could warm her hands at the fire of his lust for just a few moments. And maybe for those few moments, she could pretend that she hadn’t lost everything.
Sin blinked in surprise as Gia suddenly appeared in front of him, sweaty, breathless and wide-eyed. Her roadie unzipped the leather bustier and stripped it from her, swiftly pulling a white tank top over her head. For the space of a few heartbeats, Sin saw her naked breasts, the stiff pink nipples thrusting toward him. The roadie stepped behind Gia to pull her hair into a ponytail. Gia drank down a bottle of water, her gaze locked with his.
Fire licked at his groin as he stared at her. He didn’t notice the black smears of her eyeliner or the way she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. He did notice that her eyes watched him with undisguised lust. Sin took a step closer. Anticipation rushed over him. He grasped her chin and slanted his mouth over hers, smearing her lipstick. She tasted like cherries and he twined his tongue with hers, pressing his throbbing cock to her belly. She rubbed her tongue against his, her eyes wide open, watching him cautiously.
Hands pushed him and he stepped back, breaking the kiss. Gia’s roadie hissed angrily at him but he ignored her, keeping his eyes on the woman whose taste still lingered on his mouth.
“Break a leg, baby,” he said, touching her bare shoulders in a swift caress.
For an instant they just stared at each other, then the roadie hissed again and Gia took a step backward. As she spun toward the stage she glanced back at him, one eyelid dropping in a wink. Sin’s heart stumbled, then began to beat faster. Fuckin’ A. He’d kissed Gianna Santora. And she’d winked at him. He felt seventeen again.
He reached up and threaded her long, silky hair through his fingers. “I don’t know you . . . ” he began, his voice low.
Morgan’s fingers curled around his wrist, stopping the movement of his hand. “We don’t know each other.” Her eyes held his intently. “And I’ll probably hate myself tomorrow for saying this, but my were-senses are going crazy. I don’t know what kind of cologne that is, but—”
“I don’t wear cologne,” he interrupted her.
Her eyes went wide and he caught the faintest trace of fear before she quickly schooled her expression. “I have to go. If you need anything, please call the concierge.”
She took two strides away from him before he reached out and caught her around the waist, hauling her back against his body. “I need you. If I call the concierge, will he deliver you to me?” he growled and lowered his head to hers.
The first taste of her mouth sent Roul’s wolf into bliss-induced heaven. Even his logical brain was overcome with lust. His tongue teased the seam of her lips as he fitted his hips to hers. Rubbing his erection against her lower belly, pleasure throbbed throughout his body. Her rosemary-lemon scent grew stronger as her mouth opened to the thrust of his tongue.
Everything in his life—every person, every responsibility—faded away until his only focus was the woman in his arms. Roul’s wolf slipped the leash of his control and growled possessively, urging him to take her. His hands cupped her firm ass, pressing her closer to his body. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and the tribal bands of his wolf clan markings came alive with sensation, making his skin itch to feel her touch. Quickly, without breaking the deep kiss they shared, he ripped off his jacket and shirt. The instant her fingers touched the tattoo-like marks on his shoulders, he knew it wasn’t the sigil that shattered his control. It was Morgan Kale.
Colin Granville and Eden Antaeus in Hot Water, Tales of the Darkworld Book 2 (Pink Petal Books)
His eyes gleamed preternaturally, answering her earlier questions about his status as an immortal. One hand cupped the side of her face, the long elegant fingers sliding into her dark hair. Angling his head toward hers, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. An electric tingle went through Eden’s body and her dragon came rushing to the surface of her skin.
When he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, she sighed into his mouth. His free hand slid over her hip and curved over her taut buttock. She rubbed herself against him again as that sugar cookie scent grew stronger. Lifting her arms, she draped them over his broad shoulders, feeling the hard muscle and bone beneath his silk shirt. He sucked on her tongue and heat pooled deliciously between her thighs. Gods, he was hot!
“You know, at your ages, you should really get a room,” a snarky voice spoke behind Eden.
Zander’s lips opened. The rough glide of an agile tongue filled his mouth. Heat poured through him, and the mate scent coming from Voth intensified. Tangling his tongue with Voth’s, tasting him as their lips clung in a series of fevered kisses, Zander’s body came to life, fired by an urgency of his soul. Apparently, he was a lock and Voth the key. They fit together, and being with Voth unlocked a part of Zander he hadn’t known existed.
“Can you feel how much I want you, Zander?” Voth whispered into his mouth.
The feel of those firm, damp lips moving on his sent shivers of anticipation through Zander. Lust swamped his body, driving him incoherent with desire for Voth. He’d heard tales of couples so frantic to mate that they clawed and injured each other during mating. Zander didn’t mind rough sex, had always rather liked it that way with men, but something gnawed at the core of him, telling him that wasn’t the way it should be with Voth. Something inside him insisted that every touch, every taste, every lick and thrust be made with more than just his body. The acts he would perform with Voth this night needed the commitment of his soul.
Zander let his fingers trace the hard contours of Voth’s chest. The man had sculpted planes and bands of muscle that were like and yet so unlike Zander’s own that he marveled at every unyielding bit he touched. Voth’s skin had the texture of rough linen beneath Zander’s exploring fingertips. When the pads of his fingers snagged on Voth’s stiff nipples, his mate sucked in a harsh breath.
His name, spoken on a moan, had Zander’s cock jerking inside the tight confines of his jeans. Wetness leaked from the tip already. He licked one of Voth’s nipples, and the man shuddered.
“I’m supposed to be the one who controls fire, but the touch of your tongue has ignited flames inside me,” Voth groaned.
Zander chuckled. “Well, you know, they say that where there’s smoke…”
Pulling her up, he ripped the pink thong from her body. Then he realized he’d never even kissed her! While his wolf might not care about that, Ran did. He shook his head dazedly. Apparently, he’d lost all his brains with one good suck of her luscious mouth.
Ran speared his hands into her silky hair and tilted her head back. Her ice blue eyes glowed at him. He bent and nibbled at her bottom lip. She moaned and her hands slid up his rib cage, making him shudder. Her touch seared him. His mouth took hers and a bolt of sheer lust rocked him. Then her tongue touched his and fireworks exploded in his head.
He groaned her name and her fingernails raked his back from shoulders to waist, over the tribal bands that swirled over his delts. The pleasure-pain rippled through him, as if she’d clawed his flesh from the bone. His hands were all over her, the feel of her skin against his palms making him break out in a sweat. Covered in goose flesh, his nerves came completely alive.
One hand slipped between her thighs. He found her hairless and soaking wet. Warm, sticky fluid coated his fingers as he searched for that one special place… His forefinger grazed her clit and she bit his bottom lip, stifling a scream as her body went rigid.
Shaking, Dante climbed his body, forcing him to grab her ass and hold her. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, her mouth grinding against his. Off balance, Ran stumbled, slamming her back against the wall. He pressed into her, his thick cock sliding easily along her wet, swollen flesh. She ripped her mouth from his and clutched his shoulders.
“Fuck me hard,” she panted, her chest pressed tightly to his.
Max LeFevre and Bliss Wilde in The Pixie Prince (Cobblestone Press)
Bliss looked up at him, her eyes glowing like a neon sign. Max bent and took her mouth in a fierce kiss. The moment her lips parted, and the tip of his tongue touched hers, it felt like a lightning bolt struck him. Heat coursed through his body, and his cock was instantly so hard it hurt. His tongue swept into her mouth, taking possession of it. She tasted like a caramel sundae, her sweetness filling his mouth and nostrils until he shook with the need to strip her clothes from her body and lick every inch of her.
A moan escaped the back of his throat as one hand cupped her head, holding her still while he ravished her mouth with a series of deep, tongue swirling kisses. She kissed him back, sucking on his tongue and emitting little growls of pleasure. Max couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away from the sight of her bright eyes burning with desire.
He shuddered. Never had he wanted a woman so quickly and so much. He knew now why her name was Bliss, because kissing her was heaven.
“Shhhh. Just kiss me. Start with what matters most, Marius,” she whispered.
Without another thought, he buried his fingers in her hair, cupping her head. Tilting her face up, he bent and took her mouth with his. She opened her lips, and his tongue licked at them. He began to shake as her taste filled his soul. His world tilted on its axis. Nothing he had ever experienced with a woman could be compared to the simple joy of kissing Sair for the first time.
Happiness exploded within him and the sense of disconnection that had grown within him over the past few years shriveled in the face of what he knew he held within his grasp. His mate. His woman. His future. Overwhelmed didn’t begin to cover the range of emotions that lashed him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more alive than he did at the moment that his lips met Sair’s.
Her fingers tugged at the hair on the back of his head. He let his hands slip from her head to wrap around her tiny body. Unerringly, his palms cupped the firm globes of her ass, drawing her body tight to his and lifting her feet from the ground. Electricity crackled between them and his flesh tingled. Deepening the kiss, his tongue swept into her mouth to glide over her teeth and dance with her tongue. His body absorbed her shudders of pleasure.
She wrapped her legs around him and ground her crotch against his thick erection. A wildfire consumed them and lust raged so sharply inside him that Marius thought he’d come at any moment. Her mouth ate at him. Her lips moved against his, kissing him back, exposing her passion to him. He’d never had a woman kiss him so thoroughly, and he loved it. Letting her take control of the kiss didn’t take anything from him. He felt as if she’d gifted him with her desire, and it made him want to cherish her just as much as he wanted to fuck her senseless.
Her tongue flicked delicately at the tip of his, the small movements more arousing than an out and out assault on his mouth. Holding her tightly to him, he let her weight rest on his forearms. His fingers dug into the solid muscle of her buttocks and he could feel the flex of her powerful thighs as she ground on him. He’d never been with a werewolf before, but he recognized that shifter women probably had a strength that human women did not. He inhaled the fragrance of Sair’s arousal and realized that they also had a very strong libido.
Breaking the kiss, Marius trailed his mouth over the smooth column of her throat. He could smell her blood, feel it pulsing beneath her skin. He wanted to bite her, and his fangs dropped in preparation, but he held himself back. There would be a time for biting in their future. Standing in the cemetery wasn’t the place, and in the midst of their first kiss certainly wasn’t the time.
She opened her mouth to reply, but his lips closed over hers. As a first kiss, it fell flat in the romance department. However, what it lacked in romantic sweetness, it made up for in intensity. Emily couldn’t remember ever being kissed so thoroughly. In fact, other than a few encounters that had left her sexually frustrated, her only good sexual experiences were Dominant/submissive scenes. She had no real experience with kissing and intimacy.
Vahid’s lips were soft but firm. They moved on hers with an expertise that sent a spark of jealousy through her. He’d been with women he’d loved while she’d been with men who’d used her and used her pain against her. That thought became her last lucid one as heat flared within her body and turned her into a creature of sensation.
The wet lick of their tongues as they danced together made Emily’s knees weak. Vahid’s arms gathered her against his rock hard muscles. The arm around her waist felt like an iron band. Shuddering with reaction, lust, and overwhelming emotion, Emily collapsed against him, her heart thundering. She reached up and gripped the broad shoulders that she’d ached to touch from the moment she’d first seen them. His growl of satisfaction vibrated against her lips.
Emily grew lightheaded from the ferocity of Vahid’s kisses. He held her mind and body in thrall as his lips and tongue demanded a response from her. With her composure cracked and her body in a frenzy of need, she had no choice but to submit to his desires. She wound her arms around his neck as he lifted her. Her eyes drifted shut, and she let her senses take over as he carried her to the bench. He sat down, keeping her wrapped against him.
Straddling Vahid’s thick thighs, Emily felt her damp core press against the hard ridge of his cock. She whimpered again, wishing they were naked. As if he’d read her thoughts, he slipped his hands under her sweater, his fingers gliding up her sides, taking the cashmere with them. She lowered her arms, freeing them from the sleeves. He pulled the material over her head, breaking their kiss for a brief moment before swooping in and taking her mouth again.
The mocking incredulity on Holden’s face pushed Garret over the edge. Reaching out, his hands grasped Holden by the shoulders. He yanked the heavier man close to him, his mouth finding Holden’s half open one. Anger fueled the kiss. Lust was the farthest thing from his mind when he’d touched Holden. But the taste of Holden’s mouth on his tongue, the rasp of the man’s five o’clock shadow against his own stubbled jaw, the feel of those heavy shoulder muscles bunching beneath his fingers, served to light a fire inside Garret that he’d never felt before. He let his tongue flicker over Holden’s lower lip, teasing and tasting. His hips brushed Holden’s and his cock began to stir.
Holden must have felt it too because he went stiff and still. Angry with himself for his lack of control, Garret tore his mouth from Holden’s and spun on the balls of his feet, reaching for the door. Without looking back, he slammed out of the suite and headed for the stairs.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my Valentine’s Day first kisses post. Don’t forget to post in comments which kiss is your favorite and why. All commenters who answer that two part question by 9 pm Pacific time tonight are entered in the drawing for an autographed print book. Happy Valentine’s Day!