First Kiss Friday – Morganna by Jackie Ivie

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Jackie Ivie, author of historical romance Morganna.  This is one of the wonderful novels included in the Medieval Tales of Romance boxed set on sale for only 99 cents.  Welcome Jackie!  Here’s the first kiss between Morganna KilCreggar and Zandar FitzHugh.

“Take the knives and put them in the target,” she repeated, and watched a flush go over him, turning those eyes even more intensely blue when he looked over her hand at her.

“I’m na’ good enough,” he replied.

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I’ll do it again, then, but this time, hold to my hand and feel the release. Here.” She turned and backed up until she reached his chest, and put out her arm. “Hold onto the outside of my arm. Zander?”

She waited until he did as she asked, although his shuddering was making a connection difficult. Morgan didn’t dare turn around to see the cause. She was afraid of what made the pressure against her thighs. Zander FitzHugh was every inch a man, and he had a woman in his arms, and he didn’t even guess it? It was amusing if she thought of it.

She didn’t.

“Hold to the back of my hand, Zander. Mold your fingers around mine.”

“Oh, sweet Jesu’,” he murmured into her hair, but he did as she asked, his palm easily covering the back of her hand, and then he was weaving his fingers through hers.

Morgan’s knees were knocking and her breath was coming too shallowly and quick. She swallowed the increased moisture in her mouth and concentrated. “Now, feel how we’re holding the blade in our fingers.”

His answer was too garbled to decipher, and Morgan ignored it and went right on talking. It was the only thing she could think to do.

“We’re going to fling it now. It takes about a one-to-two, finger-length of movement. Ready?”

She didn’t wait to hear his answer, she simply moved her hand as she’d done for years, and his was right there with her. The knife struck dead-center. She moved another blade into place, and felt his fingers moving with hers. Her insides were turning to liquid, and her throat was closing off too much to swallow.

“We’re tossing the other one.”

She flung it, and heard it thump against the wood. She was concentrating on putting the final blade into place and attempting to ignore every nerve-ending in her body that was in contact with his.

It was an impossible chore.

“Are you ready, Zander?” she whispered.

The answer was groaned into the back of her neck. Morgan didn’t have any recourse but to fling the final blade, and she listened to it clang against the others before her entire world was upended and completely and irrevocably changed. Forever.

Zander pivoted her body in the enclosure of his arms, grabbed both sides of her head with his hands, and launched his mouth into hers. Morgan didn’t have time to gasp a denial, or even one of acceptance, before he was marauding about in her mouth, seeking nourishment from her tongue where he sucked on it, and enticement from all her tissues, as he brought her to the brink of heaven and held her there. Morgan’s hands grabbed onto his belt to keep her from falling as he took every bit of sod beneath her and turned it into bog. Her knees no longer worked, her ankles were too far away to matter, and her thigh muscles were trembling with a fire-and-ice combination she didn’t know enough about to name.

His breath filled her nostrils, his taste filled her senses, and his tongue was a driving force not to be denied. Morgan’s mind ceased functioning, her heart ceased beating and her lungs forgot to breathe. All she could hear was the harshness of his breathing.

Then he raised his head and met her gaze.