First Kiss Friday – Tango in Paradise by Elysa Hendricks

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Elysa Hendricks, author of contemporary romance Tango in Paradise.  Welcome back Elysa!  Here’s the first kiss between Jason Blackhawk and Darcy “DC” Camden.

Suddenly DC wanted – needed to get closer – to feel Jase’s life affirming warmth. Careful not to touch his injured arm, she leaned into him. Beneath the thin top she wore her breasts swelled and her nipples grew hard and achy as they pressed against his solid chest. Deep in her belly desire unfurled sending a rush of liquid heat to her groin.

A virgin by choice, she wasn’t ignorant of passion or physical pleasure. There’d been men who’d wanted her, men who’d wooed her. Men she’d thought she might love. But she’d never let them move past second base. Self-gratification was better than settling for second best. None of them stirred her. None of them melted the ice encasing her heart. None of them made her want them like she wanted this man.

When he didn’t pull away she grew bolder. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and tried to pull him to her, but he remained motionless, an immovable object. His passive resistance gave her the courage to explore further. She slipped her hands under his shirt to touch his warm damp skin. Like a child eager for an unknown yet long anticipated treat she explored his smooth muscled chest. His breath hitched. Beneath her palms his heart thudded in time with her own. She caught one flat male nipple between her thumb and finger. It pebbled and his heart rate accelerated. Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t look at her.

She combed her fingers through his close-cropped hair. After the coarse stubble of his beard, the thick, black strands stroked her skin like raw silk.

The musky masculine scent of him filled her nostrils as she reached up and tried to pull his head down to hers. For a second he didn’t move then with a groan his head dipped. His arms closed around her and his mouth took hers in a possessive kiss.

Fire raced through her veins. Needs she’d only dreamed she had erupted hot and heavy inside of her. For the first time in her twenty-nine years she wanted a man – this man – more than she wanted her next breath.

Her body warmed to his touch. The cold, clammy feel of near drowning faded away as his hand slipped under her shirt and stroked her breast. His calloused palms against her tender flesh sent streaks of lightning through her, feeding the fire in her belly. Hungry for the taste of him she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. Heart racing she gave everything he asked and demanded the same from him.

She didn’t object when he pulled off her shirt and cupped her breasts in his palms. The sight and feel of his tanned fingers brushing her pale skin excited her. It frightened and thrilled her how quickly this man had become important to her. She owed him more than her life. For too long she’d been closed to the possibility of life, of love. He’d opened her eyes and her heart.

He lifted his face. “Tell me to stop,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

When he tried to pull away she gripped his wrists and held his hands to her breasts. “No. I don’t want to stop.”

With a muttered expletive he swept her into his arms. Her head whirled as he carried her into the cave and laid her down on the blanket. He braced himself on his arms above her and met her gaze.

“Last chance.”

“Stop talking and kiss me.” She grabbed his head and pulled him down.

With a groan of surrender he complied. Warm and slightly salty, the taste of him banished the tang of river water lingering in her mouth. When he lifted his head, she mumbled a protest that turned to a moan of pleasure as he moved lower to suckle her breasts. First one then the other. She stroked her hand down his head and over his shoulders. After a few minutes he paused and rested his head on her chest. She liked the feel of his breath and the faint prickle of his beard on her skin.

He lifted his head.

“Don’t stop.”