First Kiss Friday – My Dark Rose by Cynthia Owens

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Cynthia Owens, author of historical romance My Dark Rose.  Welcome back Cynthia!  Here’s the first kiss between Dary Greely and Roisin Donavan.

She glared up at him, then followed his glance to the curtained-off portion of the room. She took an instinctive step to block his path. She couldn’t let him see what lay beyond! “I’ll thank you to be mindin’ your own business, Dary Greely.” She forced frost into her voice. “I appreciate you returning what’s mine, but I’ve a lot to do right now.” She tried for a light laugh and failed miserably. “Lose an hour in the morning and sure, you’ll be lookin’ for it all day. ’Tis late I am and—”

“Rose?”

His quiet voice stopped the flow of words spilling from her lips.

“Kiss me.”

Before she could form a reply, his arms slipped around her and he pulled her against him, claiming her mouth with his.

His lips were soft and firm on hers, and he tasted of whiskey and wood smoke. His hands warmed her, set her heart fluttering and her body to trembling violently.

“Róisín.” His mouth skimmed down to her throat, suckling lightly and drawing a startled whimper from her. It felt so good…he felt so good, so right. She combed shaking fingers through the cool silk of his hair, wanting, needing to draw his essence into her. “Rose.”

“Dary.” She couldn’t catch her breath, he scrambled her senses so. She yearned to touch him, caress him, explore the hard muscles of his arms, his chest. “Ah, Dary.”

“You taste so good, my dark Rose.” His tongue smoothed over her ear. “Oh, sweet sacred Jaysus, I’ve waited so long for this. For you.”

She buried her own lips into the hollow of his throat, feeling the teasing prickle of whiskers against her skin. Mindlessly, like the cats that roamed the alleys around the tenements and yowled through the night, she rubbed her face against them and heard a harsh groan rumble through him. Desire sang in her veins, pooled deep within her.

“This is right.” His voice was rough, urgent, commanding, his hands searing her body even through the worn fabric of her dress. “Do you see that, my lovely Róisín? Do you feel it? Feel what you do to me?”

“No.” She wound her arms about his neck and pressed her body against his. She sank trembling fingers into the rough hair at his nape, stroking gently, and he groaned against her mouth. “We can’t…we mustn’t…”

His mouth gentled, wandered leisurely, tenderly over her cheek, soft, caressing. Oh, never had the touch of a man’s lips felt so wonderful! His hands roved restlessly over her back, molding her curves, and she shivered, glorying in his strength. “Why not?” His husky growl warmed her ear.

She ran her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, squeezing lightly, clinging, for her knees had suddenly gone to water. “Not…not here.” She tried to draw breath, but her chest was tight, her entire body trembling with need. “My brother… we…we can’t…”

“Róisín?”

The safe circle of his arms suddenly chilled. She struggled against the seductive pull of his kisses, frantically tried to free herself.

“Róisín?”

“Stop…please,” she gasped. “’Tis Eilish.”

“Eilish?” He stared down at her, his eyes fogged with desire, his breathing harsh.

“My baby sister. She has bad dreams sometimes. I must go to her.”

But even as she tried to disentangle herself, he pulled her back. “Not yet.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “Not yet.” His lips grazed her temples, igniting tingles of fiery pleasure all the way down to her toes. “Just…one more kiss.” His mouth claimed hers, deep, intoxicating, possessing. “Rose…you’re sweet…so sweet.”

“Róisín!” A different voice, dark, enraged. Joe leaped from the sofa, wild-eyed. He strode across the room, his step unsteady, and grabbed Dary’s arm, yanking him away from his sister. “Who the hell are you?”

“Joe!” Róisín tried to catch his vaguely waving fist. “Joe… don’t!”

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