This is a Bloghop hosted by Danielle at Entertaining interests and Jackie at Bouquet of Books.
Tuesday's was sharing 1st FIGHT, and I was too involved in writing that I missed it. *sigh with disappointment* but I'm in time to do the kissing scene. Excellent :)
Today, June 14 is 1st KISS scene. It can be a peck on the cheek or a full fledge kissing session. Now I have posted this before, but it's been tweaked since then.
This is from my current WIP called SAMSARA. (Has had several name changes!)
A calloused, warm hand captured my elbow, pulling me forward.
My survival reflex kicked in. I growled and twisted my elbow. My attacker would have to let go if he valued having a wrist.
My heart galloped, adrenalin soaked my veins. The hand tightened against my skin. I looked up.
Of course he wouldn't give up. I should have known he would come for me.
"Let go of me." I snarled.
"No. I need to talk to you. You need to hear me out." His forehead furrowed, he refused to make eye contact.
I twisted violently, bumping into an iridescent scaled man with horns. "Don't touch me." I seethed, unable to ignore how my eyes drank him in. His eyes were drawn and weary, staring straight ahead as he dragged me.
Who was I kidding. I didn't want to escape. Look at him... he's desolate.
His skin no longer sparkled with silvery scars - they were dull, boring; his tiger pelt looked rough and dirty, like he'd rolled in something sticky, and the predatory power which thrilled and scared me was muted. I did that to him. Me.
Shankara pulled me to a stop, wrenching me to look at him. His hands clasped hotly on my shoulders. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to.
"Please." His voice was husky with emotion.
That one word melted me. My internal organs liquefied into a warm gooey mess, bones sung with sonnets. I'll give you anything.
He breathed a heavy sigh, tugging me into him. In the centre of the busy pavement he crushed me to his chest, squeezing the life out of me. Desperation linked with passion, it was is if he wanted to fuse us together. I couldn't tell where he began and I ended. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The shape of him, the heat of skin and softness of fur made me press harder. Could people tell how much I wanted him? I should be embarrassed. Oh, but I'm not. He feels so right. So perfect.
When he released me, my skin was on fire. Every place he touched, not just with his fingers, but his eyes too, made fireworks piddly things compared to how I erupted within. Touch. It's my drug of choice.
My breathing was fast and shallow as Shankara reached into my hair. His fingers sank deep into the silver tussle, locking onto the back of my neck. With infinitesimal increments his head bowed, his forehead rested against mine.
I couldn't think straight. My world was topsy-turvy. He was now the centre of it.
Eyes bored into me. I wanted to sink into them, to give myself over to everything. I gave up fighting. I gave up on the secrets he hid from me. I was a slave to what coursed in my blood. Kiss me...
Shankara's breath hitched, he barely moved but somehow his lips were millimetres from mine. I was held in a bitter sweet moment of anticipation; the deliciousness of the first kiss, and the soul piercing awareness that slowed everything to a heart-beat.
His eyes closed, cutting off my access to his soul. His velvet lips pressed against mine.
All reasoning shot out of my head. My breath caught; I forgot who I was. I wanted to devour him. My leg hitched to lock around his calf, and I dragged him closer, fingers latching onto his tiger pelt. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted.
Shankara revelled in my fierceness. I parted my mouth under his, an invitation. Take me.
He didn't hesitate. He groaned and smothered me in his arms. His tongue shot inside my lips, teasing against my teeth.
He gathered me tighter. My world shattered and I didn't care less about the pieces.
In his arms I was whole. I didn't care about secrets. I didn't care who I was or what it meant. I found my centre. In the form of a monster who killed thousands.
The kiss turned seconds into micro beats and then was over. Shankara breathed hard as he gazed into my eyes. I was sure he would see a tangle of reds, scarlets and passion. I was pretty sure my emotions were portrayed by colours in my eyes. I was churning, my heart had been in a blender.
"I told you I wanted you back," he whispered. His fur softened, glistened. Like someone flicked a switch inside him, turning everything to perfection.
"I don't understand. Who are you?" My eyes darted over his features, desperately trying to recall how I knew him.