First Kiss Friday – A Knight’s Reward by Catherine Kean

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Catherine Kean, author of medieval romance A Knight’s Reward.  Welcome back, Catherine!  Here’s the first kiss between Gisela Anne Balewyne and Dominic de Terre.

Dominic stepped in front of her. He took her face in his hands and gently, but firmly, tipped it up.

Her eyes huge and wet, she stared up at him, tears glistening like rainwater on her face. Her hands came up to clutch his arms.

Lowering his voice to a husky rasp, he said, “Never will I regret wanting to kiss you. Or, for desiring you as I did years ago.”

Moisture brimmed along her lashes. “Dominic—”

“You are mine, Gisela. You always will be.”

“Walk away,” she said on a sob. “Forget me.”

“Never.” He pressed a tender kiss to the hair tangling over her brow.

She thrust her shoulders back, fighting him even in her desire. Misery shadowed her gaze like a black cloud obliterating the sun. “Please! Trust me when I say—”

“Trust me, Sweet Daisy.” Coaxing her chin upward even more, he leaned his body against hers. With a gasped protest, she dropped back to sit on the table’s edge. The wood squeaked at her weight.

Before she could squirm away, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Cloth whispered, the sound akin to an impassioned sigh.

A flush stained her face. “You are a bold man.”

He smiled. “Aye.” What irony, that days ago, when she’d tended his ribs, she had stood in a similar fashion between his legs. Then, she had treated his physical discomfort. Now, he must tend her. He wouldn’t ease bodily pain, but would assuage her emotional torment rooted in their parting long ago.

“Dominic, if you do not let me rise this instant—”

He chuckled. “You will what?” He kissed her temple. “Beat your fists upon me?”

She glared at him, but reluctance defined the set of her mouth. “I could not hurt your sore ribs.”

“Scratch my eyes out, then?”

Desperation lit her gaze. “How could I wound you? How, when I still . . .” Her voice faded. She bit her lip, obviously trying to stifle her unspoken words, and looked away. “Oh, Dominic.”

“Mmm?” He waited, holding her face in his hands. He kissed her eyebrow. Her eyelid. The salty path streaming down her face.

“Dominic,” she moaned.

“Sweet Daisy.” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over hers. A tender memento of the love they’d once shared.

The instant their mouths touched, awareness catapulted through him. The stunning force of it snatched his breath, made him draw away for the barest moment. He shuddered, humbled by the sheer power of the physical connection.

The fierce passion between them remained, despite their years apart.

Gisela is yours, as she was before, his mind whispered. Prove that then, now, and always, she is the purest half of your soul.

She, too, must have felt the jolt of desire. She went very still. Blinking tears from her damp lashes, she looked up at him with longing and reticence. Then, her gaze fell to his mouth. Yearning darkened her eyes.

An answering need coursed through him in a swift, potent surge. He kissed her again. His mouth swept over hers, urging her to kiss him back. Asking her to return the pleasure he offered her. Demanding she acknowledge the desire between them.

A ragged cry broke from her. She seemed unable to resist any longer, for her eyelids closed. Her lips parted, accepting all he offered. Taking, yet giving in return.

Their lips moved in perfect rhythm. As perfect as years ago.

Give. Take.

Nibble. Suck.

“Gisela,” he groaned. His tongue slid into her mouth. With a hungry sigh, she curved her body to meet his thrusting tongue. Her fingers, clutching his arms, curled into his tunic sleeves. Her grasping fingertips dug into his skin.

“Gisela.” He kissed her faster. Deeper. Never could he devour enough of her sweetness. He bent closer, his hands sliding from her face into her hair. His fingers buried into the silken strands, holding her head firm, holding her closer to his body and heart.