The importance of a kiss.
The other day whilst working hard I discovered a phrase on twitter that appealed. While writing on the intimate scenes between hero and heroine never underestimate the importance of a kiss. Most sensual scenes have them and I found myself nodding agreement. Yes, the kiss starts the process and often ends it too. I contemplated kisses, a lovely occupation, and thought through their power. Kisses are great whether they are short and sweet, or long and intense. The intimacy of mouth to mouth contact let alone mouth to body kisses is a fabulous moment in any romance. With that thought in mind I looked back at some of the kisses I’d written. Here is what I’d call a temperamental kiss and it is this couples first, from my story A Gentleman’s Folly with Liquid Silver books.
The heavy door thundered open. Charles, breathing swift, strode in. He shoved the door back, and it crashed, juddering in the frame.
She bolted up. “How dare you come in uninvited!”
He dragged her from the bed, hands heavy on her waist as he set her on her feet. “Try such a trick again, and I swear, with child or not, my wench, I’ll thrash you every day for a week.”
“Savage! Leave me be.”
“Be quiet. There is more at stake here than your curdled temper.”
She couldn’t avoid his face so close to hers and couldn’t pull back. “You’re a vile cur. Let me go.”
“For the sake of silence.” He caught the back of her head in his palm and brought her face much closer to his. Warm and smothering, his mouth covered hers, and all the time, her body sang in answer to his kiss.
A cascade of shivers shot through her, stalling her doubts. Desire flooded her blood at the first contact of his lips. An instant, heady, insistent craving for his most intimate touch blazed to heat her body. She opened her mouth to accept the seeking warmth of his tongue, and her knees softened like wax under a flame.
He gathered her closer, tightening his grasp, and hauled her tight against him. Their kiss deepened until each movement of his brought an echo of hers. A whimper of satisfaction stole from her as she twined her tongue around his. She sucked the warmth of
him deeper into her mouth so his taste and hers swirled and mingled, and she closed her eyes.
Time ceased to be anything other than velvet, pulsing darkness as his mouth worked on hers. He demanded more and more of her, and never had she been so willing to give herself up. She pushed forward against him, curled her fingers through his hair at the base of his skull, and kissed him while trembles made her shiver in readiness for his hands to seek her skin. Joyful, she climbed the steps of desire, until he pulled away.
He held her at arm’s length. “Christ alive, woman,” he murmured and breathed fast. His eyes shone, an intensity of golden brown glowing in his gaze.
Do you have a kiss scene from a favorite story, or a special kiss you recall?
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