Well, this is the final day of our excerpts of our favorite kiss. Let’s have a look first, however, at yesterday’s excerpts. The first excerpt, which was not only inspiring, but so well written that it brought a smile to my face — “that can never happen again…” Yeah, right… Okay, did you guess Mary Connelly? If so you are very, very right.
And for the next favorite kiss excerpt. Did you guess Charlene Sands? Ah, you are doing so very, very well. Charlene is one of those author’s whose word useage is a little like poetry, isn’t it? Okay now it may seem apparent that Pam Crooks and Pat Potter are the only two fillies left to share their favorite kissing scenes with you. And while this is true, you still have to guess which one is theirs. Are you ready? Here’s the next filly favorite kiss.
“Bathe with me, Elena,” he whispered. He sucked gently against the curve of her neck. “Then make love to me.”
Her breath caught at his bold proposition, and she trembled again. “I can’t.”
“I want you.” He dragged his teeth slowly along her jaw. Licked and tasted her wet skin. “You have any idea how much?”
“Jeb.” She’d kept her arms between them, but now, they unfolded and moved to his chest, her palms tentative against him, as if she wanted to snake her arms around his neck but held back before she did. “Please.”
“Please what? Please make love to me, Jeb? Please strip me naked and get in the water with me, Jeb?” he taunted in a husky whisper.
She pressed her lips together. But her eyes closed, and she angled her head, giving him freedom to nuzzle her some more.
“What do you want, Elena?” Persistent, his hands rubbed down her spine, spread to cup her buttocks in his palms. He pressed her against him, let her feel how hard he was for her. “Tell me.”
A sound of distress escaped her, and her arms lifted hesitantly to his shoulders. Still, she held back, and he marveled at her self-control when his own was disintegrating like smoke in the wind. He dragged hot kisses over her cheek, her cheekbone, the corner of her eye.
He tasted the salt of a single tear snared in her lashes, and he knew, then, he was moving too fast. Ramon de la Vega had tromped upon her womanly needs with his violence and buried them so deep he made her afraid to feel them again.
Jeb swore inwardly and reined in tight his own needs. Elena had been through hell. He had to remember that. He had to give her the time she needed to heal.
Damn it, he intended to see that she did. A beautiful, vibrant woman like Elena needed a man to pleasure her senseless until she felt so utterly female she would forget that horrible hell she once lived.
Jeb took her mouth with his in a gentle but persistent assault of kisses. They would be the beginning, his kisses. To break through the barriers of apprehension and resistance until she couldn’t deny she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
His hands slid back up her spine and circled her tight. She rose up on tiptoe, letting him hold her, kiss her over and over. She molded to him, her lips moving, seeking. Wet.
His blood burned hotter. He didn’t know how long he could keep his restraints in place with all she made him feel. He groaned, low and not a little frustrated, then pulled back, fisting his hand into the soap-clean tangles of her hair. ”
Isn’t that wonderfully hot? I think I might need a cold shower. I’m away from home right now, and…
And now for our final filly favorite kiss.
Okay, did you guess? Try to guess before I post the answer, okay?
And here’s our last, but not least, famous kiss: ###
It comes from “Notorious.” The hero and heroine are both in their forties and both misfits. He’s a cynical gunfighter who wins a saloon in San Francisco and sees it as a chance for redemption. She’s a former child prostitute who owns the saloon next door and has no intention sharing the clientele. They declare war, including her having him shanghaied.
“The heat surrounding them was as intense as that in the heart of a volcano. Intense and violent. She wondered very briefly if this was a version of hell. She had just decided it was when he bent toward her, his lips brushing over hers.
” And heaven and hell collided. . .
“Marsh had known it from the moment he saw her in the Glory Hole.
“The only way in hell to get her out of his system was this, and he was deadly determined to accomplish it. He’d hoped that the fireworks which constantly surrounded them would prove to be nothing more than a brief flurry of sound and fury. He hoped Shakespeare would forgive him for his literary liberties, but the diversion helped in reestablishing some kind of equilibrium.
“Until his lips touched hers.
“He hadn’t really known what to expect. Ice that would cool the damned heat burning him inside out? Emptiness that would swallow his unexpected and disturbing need?
“But there was no ice, No emptiness.
“She was as unwilling a participant as he in the damnable attraction, the veritable hurricane of desire that engulfed them. It was explosive, filled with the hot expectancy of a pending lethal storm. Her lips, at first reluctant, wary, suddenly yielded, yet he knew she wasn’t surrendering. Instead, he suspected, their mutual astonishment stunned her into a certain acceptance. He wanted to explore, to taste, to test. Even savor the currents of hot pleasure that surged through him.
“He felt her arms go around him, just as his had wrapped her tightly against him. Gingerly at first. Even reluctantly, but inevitably, as if some force propelled her against her will. He felt every movement in her body, every quiver, every stiffening awareness as his own arousal pressed into her. How long had it been since he’d felt this alive? Had he ever felt like this before . . . even before war, and hate and revenge had robbed him of feeling??”
“A low moan rumbled through his body as, unaccountably, his mouth gentled in a way it hadn’t since long, long ago. It was new, so new, so enticing, this very odd tenderness. He didn’t understand where it came from, where it had been lurking to emerge at this damnably inconvenient time. Still, it was . . . pleasant. More than pleasant as their lips explored this strange new sensation.
“Her mouth opened hesitantly under his lips, greeting him with an unexpected longing that he felt straight through to his core, and his tongue ran knowingly over the sensitive crevices of her mouth. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze moving to her eyes, and he was almost lost in the smoldering green of them, even as he sensed the hostility that was still there.”
And it goes on.
And now, in case you didn’t catch it from my first post, there will be a prize awarded for one lucky person who tried guessing at our exciting scenes of passionate kissing. However, instead of having to have guessed correctly each and every time, I am going to place all you who have participated every day into a hat and draw out the lucky winner.
I want to thank each and every one of you for participating in our favorite kisses. More later after we’ve had the drawing. In the meantime, I wish you passionate, soul-stirring kisses.