First Kiss Friday – The Alliance by Georgina Lee

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Georgina Lee, author of science fiction romance The Alliance.  Welcome Georgina!  Here’s the first kiss between First Minister Toran and The Empress D’Minicah.

Hello, I’m Georgina Lee, and I write sci-fi/fantasy romance. I’m offering for First Kiss Friday, the kiss between two leaders who need to unite in order to battle a common enemy.

Georgina Lee – http://thetwinplanets.blogspot.com/

Set up:

In The Alliance, #4 of The Twin Planet Series, the binary planets must unite to battle a common enemy. The union must be sealed with a marriage between NaKaya’s patriarchal leader, Toran, and D’Minicah, the Empress of the matriarchal planet of Vatrel. Part of the wedding ceremony is the ritual of the Binding Blood, where the bride and groom cut each other’s cheek and press them together to seal their commitment.  But Toran sees D’Minicah’s uncut cheek, a metaphor for her purity, and decides he won’t cut her in public, even if it means risking the approval of their peoples, who must go into battle the next day. Instead, he decides to initiate something far riskier.

 *****

“Drauk-nur-p’hua-cora.” She also spoke the ancient words clearly, now staring directly into Toran’s eyes and finding them as dark as NaKaya’s umbra. No emotion. Inside her heart, D’Minicah flinched slightly. No warmth for her at all?

She shut her eyes before they watered, turning quickly away from the congregants. She wasn’t afraid of being cut. She was afraid of the strange sensations smoldering within her, making her ache for want of touching her husband. Her heart thundered. Toran ripped his dagger from its sheath and the harsh noise grated her nerves. D’Minicah remained motionless, her cheek offered in tense, brutal silence. The congregation below the dais held its collective breath.

Toran found his hand shook and kept it down until he could conquer it. The only hint of the Empress’s impatience was a slight rising of her eyebrows.

He should cut her. He must cut her. After all, the Binding Blood was the only way to tie their peoples together. Yet, as he stared at the Empress’s flawless cheek, the need to please his people fled.

D’Minicah was perfect. Untouched. Peerless, except for him. No. Even he was now cut, the sting and stream of blood a testament to the fact that he was no longer perfect. Yet Toran’s gaze roamed D’Minicah’s perfection.

To his horror, he found he didn’t want to destroy such perfection.

“Are you unmarked?” he asked her, his voice barely a whisper.

D’Minicah shot him a quick look from the corner of her eye. “Obviously.”

He swore beneath his breath at the foolish question. He’d really wanted to know how chaste she was. For some reason, he needed to know.

Why? His responsibility required he cut her, but suddenly, a surge of passion crushed his duty to his people. She was pure and the first mark on her would be his cut. His brand. Yes, it would be his brand, but he refused to do so in public. He shoved his dagger into the forearm sheath, and hauled her into his arms. She went rigid with shock. The guests all gasped in unison.

But his passion refused to abate and he pressed on. Initiated by Toran’s priest’s risky applause, the congregants moved in a single, fluid motion to roar their approval. Toran pushed the kiss forward. He felt D’Minicah’s lips part and she let his tongue invade her mouth. Her body softened and molded itself against his torso. He felt her hands cup his cheeks. The sting of the Binding Blood was forgotten. D’Minicah’s hand smeared the blood over his cheek and ear, but still he drove the kiss onward, further invading her mouth and drenching them with his passion.

Their witnesses went wild. The celebration of the Binding Blood began.

D’Minicah drew away, inhaling deeply. She sat down, shaking. Toran joined her and, with smug satisfaction, leaned over her, annoyingly close.

“Stupid savage,” she muttered, wiping her bloodied hand on her napkin. “Why did you not cut me like a civilized person?”

Toran pushed back her hair and smiled when she flicked his hand away. “Because, woman, the first mark I leave on you will be done in our marriage bed.”

She dug her long dark nails into his leather-clad thigh, but he merely chuckled. Right now, compared to his desire for her, her talons feel like a caress.

“Then you have condemned both our peoples to slavery, Toran.”

Laughing, Toran glanced at around the merry crowd. D’Minicah was the only one not enjoying herself. “Not today, I think.”