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Show Me Your Kiss Scenes (YA)

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KateSmash

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More kissing! Actually, there's quite a bit of kissing in my WIP, for once. (Forgive my rough drafty state.)

Yes, what follows is three different dudes. :p

First, romantic:

“I would commit the greatest sin for you,” he breathed.

Rinna's heart threatened to hammer clean through her breast. “You? You wouldn’t have the heart the betray someone.”

“If you asked me to, I would.” Tamor traced a single finger along her jaw before turning her toward him. That familiar intensity she'd always read as mischief shone in his warm, dark eyes. And, for the first time, she recognized it for how deadly serious it was. “I would search out the Makers and bring them all here to take us back into servitude if that’s what would make you smile.”

Rinna tried to keep her gaze from slipping to his lips, painfully aware of how they hovered just out of reach of hers. “I would never ask you to."

A wry smile perked up the edges of his mouth. Tamor leaned close, his lips gliding just over hers as he murmured. “Oh, but you do. You have no idea, but you do.”

Rinna had a second to consider it an odd thing to say. Then her mind was otherwise engaged in the important task of not falling apart when he sealed their lips together.

And the desperate "don't go" slightly spoilerific kiss:

Renmond’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I can’t lose you both.”

You never had us, Rinna thought bitterly. But she couldn’t find the heart to say it.

She should have, because Renmond was on her again, big hands clutching her face and dragging her in for a desperate kiss. Had he done this a month ago, Rinna would have been hungry for him. She would have thrown all her plans to the winds just to be there in his arms. Hells, if he had done this the night of procession, Rinna doubted the idea of leaving would have ever crossed her mind.

But all she felt now was the cold memory of Tamor between them.

Renmond released her with a sigh, face betraying his broken spirit. “You weren’t the only one to love him, you know.”

Rinna nodded.

“And he wasn’t the only one to love you.”

And, 45000 words later, getting close to one of the antagonists.

Though he was much thinner and much softer than the kind of man she was accustomed to, the Maker was deceptively strong. One hand caught her up in the small of the back, lifting her full off the floor as he pressed her full against him. The other somehow completed the task of opening the door. They staggered together through the threshold when his lips finally found their destination on hers.

It was a brief kiss, hard and bruising and hungry and nowhere near long enough. ((And then it goes places this post shouldn't.))

*cough* Enough kissing, you think?
 

Belle_91

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*cough* Enough kissing, you think?

I want to see what you couldn't post ;):evil

Here's mine

(It's not YA but historical fiction, but I thought I'd share too.)

Note: Chloe is a slave living in 1830s Nashville, TN.

A loud ping made Chloe look up. Another pebble bounced against the windowpane of the dining room before a dark figure ducked behind the magnolia trees.
Chloe couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she gathered her skirts and slipped out the back door.
“Peter.”
A handsome young man appeared from his hiding spot behind the tree and smiled. Chloe rushed towards him and met him at the gate that divided Master Johnson’s property from the outside world. She startled a few of the butterflies that fluttered around the irises. Chloe stood on tip toe to receive Peter’s kisses from behind the gate. He showered her face with kisses until, after months of separation, their lips met. Warmth curled inside her stomach and stretched all the way from her chest to the tips of her toes. For one brief moment, as she melted into him, she forgot all her worries and the troubles that separated her from him. For one minute, she felt safe.
 
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KateSmash

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GOOD, 'CAUSE THERE'S A FEW MORE AFTER THOSE.

And ideas for the sequel - including perhaps two more young gentlemen to kiss and another of the MCs finally having time for her own romance. xD My baby girls gets all the smooches in this world, apparently.
 
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Zoombie

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OOOH, KISSING THREAD, KISSING THREAD!

But we all know, half the fun is the dialog leading up TOO the kiss! Co-Conspirators Shy Lion and Engi share a moment that Engi should really have backed away from.

“You look good…” She admitted.


I looked down. I noticed that I was wearing the same suit that I had been wearing last night, but now it had a fur cape that was wrapped around my shoulders – as if I was some ancient Korvosian Dictator. I dragged the fur off and smirked at her.


“I thought fur was murder.”


“Yeah, but minks deserve it…” She smiled at me as I walked over, sitting on the bed next to her. In the darkness of the room, she really did make quite a bit of light – the far sides of the wall were illuminated by the bits of her skin that were bared.


“So…do you think my plan will work?”


She frowned. “The whole recruiting your alternate universe time displaced girlfriend? Yeah, if she’s here. Hell, even if she isn’t, her soul might be in a body, and this lifetime would…well, be as heroic as all of yours. It shouldn’t be that hard to convince her to join us.”


I nodded. “But what about the rest of my plan?”


She shifted. Her legs – long and thin – drew up onto the bed, pushing underneath her as she looked at me, her eyes becoming hooded – more serious than I expected from Shy Lion. She sighed.


“Your plan is good. But plans almost never survive contact with the enemy…” She smiled, sadly. “Or did you never learn history in your universe?”


“Oh, I did…” I smiled at her. My hand slipped over hers. I felt the faint electric tingle that she always provoked in me, but it was intensified. Was my body more sensitive? Was it…


She looked at me. I hadn’t realized how close our faces were.


She whispered: “It’s scary, actually. I’ve never…”


“Hmm?”


She leaned in. Her forehead pressed against mine and her eyes closed: “I’ve never imagined that I’d be on an adventure like this…” She said. Her voice had a faint hitch in it, the emotions thick. My hand shifted and I felt her palm turn up. Our fingers found the pulse point of our wrists. I rubbed her wrist and felt her pulse. It was fast. Mine was faster…


“I…” I opened my mouth. “It’ll be all right.”


“Promise?” Her eyes were closed, tight. The glow of her face made it easy to see a glittering tear. I wanted to kiss it away. But I was frozen – my gut churned.

I have a girlfriend…I thought.


“Promise…” I whispered.


“I’ll hold that on you…” Her voice was suddenly…warm. I felt my own body tingle

I. have. A. Girlfriend.


She leaned in. Our mouths met. Her tongue was warm and sent a hot little spark through the roof of my mouth. Her hand shifted, and squeezed mine. Her other hand went to my cheek. She leaned in and I pressed back…against her. Our teeth bumped, catching her upper lip between…and…


Her tongue slid back. “I, we should-“


“We shouldn’t…”


I kissed her neck. My teeth found her skin and bit down. She rolled her head and gasped. No, no…yes…


I didn’t think after that.
...yes, Shy Lion glows in the dark.

I don't know what minks did to deserve it.

The whole girlfriend thing is complicated and involved alternate universes and reincarnations and magical robots.
 

Parametric

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PHOENIX BLAZING:

Case put down his glass, half empty. His gaze dragged slowly up and down her body, making her shiver. “Kiss me and I’ll answer your question.”

Nix paused, shocked. But also intrigued. The alcohol burned pleasantly and she was getting decidedly tingly. Case was very pretty to look at, leaning against a table with his hands braced against the edge, giving her that look. He’d probably make it worth her while if she kissed him.

Nix’s throat had gone dry. She swallowed. “I have a lot of questions.”

“Then you’ll have to kiss me a lot.”

Nix put her own glass down. It clinked against his. Her hand trembled slightly. She stepped into his space; Case did not move, hands still on the table. That look he was giving her was only getting more intense, making her breathless before she’d even started.

Nix stretched up and kissed him.

Her stomach contracted hard at the first brush of their lips. She leaned into him without thinking, hands coming up to cup his face, and she kissed him deeper, so aware of every inch of him where she was pressing herself against his hard body. Case slid his hand into her scarlet hair to hold her still and captured her mouth. His other hand dropped to the small of her back and yanked her against him so tight she gasped. And then he kissed her dizzy. She couldn’t stretch up high enough, couldn’t kiss him deep enough, her arms wound around his neck as her heart hammered in her throat.

Finally Case broke the kiss. He said against her mouth, “You had a question?”

When she tried to kiss him again his hand tightened in her hair and she stopped, reddening. She was out of breath, trembling, stomach tight.

“Your question?” Case prompted.

Nix must be blushing; her face was hot. She could barely remember what she’d asked. She couldn’t think about anything other than getting Case to kiss her again. She fought to take a deep enough breath to clear her head.
 

A.P.M.

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It took me a while to learn how to write kissing scenes in YA. *also writes erotica* They feel somewhat understated when compared to scenes I write for an older audience. It's a challenge, though a fun one.


This is a small excerpt from my recently revised YA, between the MC and her love interest. She's crossed over into the fairy realm, hence all the talk about wings.

My heart thudded deep in my chest. I didn't know customs here. I waited, hoping he would do something, not wanting to go any farther in case I accidentally started something I couldn't stop.

I didn't have long to wait. He leaned forward slightly and kissed me, lightly and tentatively on the underside of my jaw.. “Ryn...” He mouthed, his breath hot against my neck. He sounded unsure, almost nervous, and his breathing shuddered against my throat.

I moved further against him and met his lips with my own, turning his light kiss into a real one. Tension increased in his body and shoulders, his wings quivering slightly, as the kiss continued, and I smiled into it, wondering if it was normal for him to be this tense. Was it his first? This was not my first kiss, but it was the best I'd experienced so far.

“Relax,” I told him, a whisper as I kissed him, and he breathed out too, sweet against my neck. We continued it for a while, some of the tension leaving him, his wings folding smoothly across his back. I licked his lips with my tongue, and when he copied it, I opened my mouth. He shuddered again as he put his tongue in.

“Ryn...” He finally gasped, and I left the kiss, looking at him patiently. I knew we couldn't go any farther than this, now now and perhaps not ever. But I wanted to enjoy it while I could. “I...I like this,” he said, and blushed hot.

I laughed. “Me too, Julius.” I kissed him again, his lips soft and slightly wet. He took a little more control this time, and this time it was his tongue that flitted experimentally on my lips. His breathing quickened, and he hugged me even closer, pushing us together. It thrilled me, to be held by someone so strong.
 

Fuchsia Groan

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This thread is awesome!

Here's a scene where the shy MC finds herself unexpectedly making out with a near-stranger:

Eddie put his hands on my shoulders. His touch was like his voice when we first met — light. His thumbs flicked the cap sleeves of my dress. “You do what you have to. Then it’s over.”

I’d imagined killing potential rapists, or someone trying to steal food my family needed to survive. Them or me. He didn’t need to imagine doomsday scenarios; he’d lived one.

“It’s over,” he said and pulled me to him. “No use dwelling on it. That’s my friend’s problem.”

His lips were gentle at first on my cheek. I rubbed my hair against his neck, and he gasped and kissed my mouth.

Ryan had sort of tried to kiss me when we were out there on the snowy balcony, but no one was supposed to kiss Doom Girl. Until someone did.

Later, I would recall isolated things: the way his pecs swelled his T-shirt, and how I looked down and saw his sneaker had come untied. Or maybe that was later, when we were on the ground.

Later, sooner, that was hard to say. The clover had bloomed in the grassy alleys between the corn rows and dried and gone rusty in the cool days, but I could smell it. And the fat, dimpled milkweed pods, with their tassels of silk and sometimes a drop of bone-white liquid clinging to the outer husk. And the ironweed, and the asters.

We weren’t doing much more than kissing, but it was end-of-the-world-in-five-minutes, bring-your-whole-body-into-it kissing. His cheek was rough up close. He smelled like sweat, good sweat. I glanced at his face and then into the sky behind it, which was no longer blue but full of light. Like the asteroid was coming now.

And then he rolled away and said, “Oh, jeez. We gotta stop.”

And here's a scene from a different book where the MC kisses a boy she knows has an unrequited crush on her:

I slide my hands up the hot skin of his neck, where his pulse flutters under my fingertips. My fingers graze the high knoll of his cheekbone, the hollow under his left eye, the almost-invisible freckles at the base of his nose. When I cup his face and pull him to me, he doesn’t resist.

What am I expecting when I kiss him? To be swept away by sudden passion? Or to be painfully not into it, just pretending?

It doesn’t go either of those ways.

At first Warren doesn’t respond except to close his eyes, just sits there like a mannequin, making me feel like an idiot. His lips are dry and closed.

Then, all of a sudden, he gulps a breath and starts kissing me back, his hands tangling in my hair. His mouth opens under mine, hot and wet, and I taste kiwi Lifesavers as his tongue darts between my lips.
 

Maramoser

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I love this thread. I feel like a moocher just reading and enjoying without contributing, so here's my latest:

(necessary background--the MC is the virginest virgin that ever virgined)

She grins, then grabs my arm and pulls me into the lobby. We slow down, but the concierge is leaning on the front desk, watching us with suspicion. We take off in a random direction, not sure where to go, until I spot a familiar door that looks promising. I drag her towards the bathroom, and as soon as the door shuts, she kisses me.

It's a lot softer than kissing my hand. That's about all I have time to think before she pulls away and hovers so close I can feel her breath on my lips. She stares at me, which I think might be a good thing until I notice the tiny furrow between her eyebrows.

"What?" I say.

"You look really surprised."

"Oh, sorry, it's just—" It's really hard to think when she's this close to me. "I just can't believe that somebody actually, you know, likes me."

Her eyes widen. I just killed the mood. I’m so good at that.

"I've liked you since we met," she says. "When you were drooling ice cream on yourself. That was really cute."

"What?" I think I’m blushing. "How could you think that was cute? That was gross. I guarantee that if you polled fifty random people on the street, they would all agree it was gross—"

"Shh." She leans in.

I'm prepared this time. Well, not really. I've never thought about what to do once you actually find somebody willing to kiss you, and with her mouth on mine, I can’t form any coherent thoughts at all. She’s surprisingly insistent, pushing even when I’m too nervous to push back. I can’t breathe. I don’t mind. She has me backed against the wall, and the cold tile feels strange when everything else is so warm. Somehow she smells like she just got out of the shower and I think it’s getting all over me and I love it. Her fingers ease their way onto the sides of my face and linger there and I don’t want her to ever stop touching me.

There's a tinny ringing sound, like an old-fashioned phone. She jerks away and pulls out her cell phone.
 

BMajor

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I want to hug this thread!

(necessary background--the MC is the virginest virgin that ever virgined)

LOL

Background: At a bonfire, at night. MC and LI have known each other a long time. They're in my MG WIP, but I write short stuff about them as YA. ;D

__________________

But Cal was here, sitting next to me on this bumpy log. I could see the fire light bounce off her face. See each of her eyelashes as they reached outwards, like downy feathers around her eyes. She was talking about her date with Eric and how rude he’d been, but that’s all I really heard. She turned to me when she realized I wasn’t responding and opened her mouth.

“What?”

She was annoyed. I knew it. And all I could get out was something I’ve always thought about her. Maybe not when we were ten. Maybe not when we were thirteen and miles beneath an ocean, saving my sister. But deep inside me, over the years I’d known her, it was blooming.

“You’re beautiful.”

I didn’t know what she thought of that since she didn’t really answer. She widened her eyes, huge green planets that orbited my entire world. I took her hand, not really knowing what I should do next, even though I knew exactly what my body wanted. I looked at the skin of her hand, her arm. Pulsing shades of orange and peach from the bonfire. I drank her up, my eyes taking in all the parts of her I never seemed to notice before.

She leaned nearer to me, the way she used to tell me secrets back in middle school. My face was inches from hers. I was testing. Seeing if she minded that we were the closest we’d ever been. And when I tilted my face, she tilted hers too.

My mouth found hers and she parted her lips, breathing into me. I pressed in close and tasted every bit. I closed my eyes and it was as if I saw her entire universe in my mind. Cal was chocolate and stars. Crickets and graham crackers. And inside of myself I became chilly, desperate to be nearer to her. To be warm against her in a lot of ways that made my face hot. I found her neck with my hand, smoothed her soft hair, tucked it behind her cool ear. I couldn’t get enough. I pulled back only when we heard voices laughing from the cabin up the hill, but I was soaking up her small smile.
 
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Kallithrix

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This is a great thread, and I really want to go back and read all of these. I can't help thinking it's like fast forwarding to all the best bits tho... hehehe

Here's one of mine (apologies if it seems long - a kiss by itself is nothing without context if you ask me :) )

In this excerpt, Lord Ahmose is claiming his prize for winning a board game against his newest harem girl. He leaves it up to her where to bestow it.

As she watched the flickering firelight play along the contours of his torso, she tried to think of a neutral spot, but every inch of his body seemed intimate when she imagined it touching her lips. Conscious that he was waiting, she quickly made up her mind, leaned forward and bumped her lips against the hard dome of his shoulder.

Lord Ahmose’s expression was distinctly unimpressed. "You are indeed a tricky little sphinx. I suggest you try again. A proper one this time."

Hebeny smiled, feeling rather pleased with herself. "You never said what kind of kiss it had to be. You just asked for a kiss, and I gave you one. My debt is repaid."

His eyes flashed wide, then narrowed in an expression that made Hebeny very nervous indeed. "Well, you can have this one on credit then."
With that he sprang upright and pushed her back onto the bed, pinning her beneath him.

Hebeny tried to push him away but he was too heavy, leaving her no choice but to submit as he proceeded to show her exactly what he meant by a ‘proper kiss’. She tasted wine on his breath, but he seemed perfectly in control of his faculties. And hers, for that matter. Almost of their own accord her hands slipped from his shoulders and into his hair.

Finally, but still too soon, he released her. "Don’t tell me we have to play another game of senet before I can do that again," he said, his breathing harsh against her lips.
 
 
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Belle_91

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So I couldn't resist posting this. It's Chloe and Peter's wedding. Both of them are slaves living on separate plantations. On their day off, a Sunday, they get married.

She (Hannah, Chloe's soon-to-be-mother-in-law) handed Chloe a bouquet of sweet pea flowers, tied together with a faded bit of red ribbon.

“My husband, Daniel, done give me that bit of ribbon when we first got married by Master Clayton,” Hannah explained. “It ain’t much, but that’s all he had to give me, and that’s all I have to give you, I’m afraid.”

Chloe rubbed the bit of silk between her fingers. “Thank you.”

Hannah nodded and then took a step back to reveal Peter. He stood between two dogwood trees, their white flowers seeming to form a cloud above him. He smiled when he saw Chloe and she saw him mouth the words “you look beautiful” to her as she walked down the makeshift aisle. She stood with him in front of Mr. Freedman who held an old Bible in his hands. He recited a few verses as Chloe and Peter clasped hands. Chloe could barely focus on Mr. Freedman’s words. All she could do was look at Peter and think of how handsome he looked in a fresh linen shirt with an emerald green waist coat. It was slightly faded, and Chloe was sure it had probably once belonged to Ambrose or old Mr. Clayton, but she didn’t care. All that mattered now was that after years of waiting, she and Peter could be together. She knew that their marriage wasn’t legal in the eyes of Tennessee officials, but to her, it was official under the eyes of God, and that’s what all mattered. She pressed her hand into Peter’s and he smiled at her before Mr. Freedman finally gave them permission to kiss.

Everyone let out shouts of joy as Peter brushed his lips against hers. Chloe blushed as he held up their hands and the small assembly of slaves and freedmen clapped.

Hannah bent down and placed a broom decorated with ribbon and flowers at their feet.

“You ready?” Peter asked and Chloe nodded. They bounded over the broom and onto the opposite side to create their new life together.
Peter wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her once more.

“Mr. Freedman, will you do us the honor of playin’ a song for us.”

The older man made a lavish bow. “With pride.” He pulled out his fiddle and immediately struck up a cheery tune. Chloe and Peter clasped hands and made up their own jig. They kicked up their heels as the guests clapped their hands in time to the music. Peter grabbed Chloe’s hands and together they spun around the clearing, just like they had done when he had proposed to her back in Christmas. As they ate the cake Hannah brought from Rosewood, snuggled up beneath one of the dogwood trees as evening approached, Chloe thought of how fortunate she was.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” she told Peter.

He smiled and she closed her heads as he kissed her brow. “Mine too.”

They stayed in the clearing until twilight had settled in and the inky blue clouds rolled in. The sky was awash with purple streaks as the first stars struggled to appear beside the half moon. The temperature dropped and Chloe shivered in her borrowed dress.

“Come on,” Peter whispered. “Let’s go.”

Chloe nodded and she followed him back to the kitchen house. Today was Sunday, her day of rest, and so she hoped no one would disturb her. Still, as she and Peter treaded across the garden, her eyes kept glancing over towards the main house where the orange glow from the candles shone out through the darkness.

She waited patiently as Peter lit a fire in the hearth and some tallow candles, quickly filling the room in a smoky haze. He then settled down onto Chloe’s pallet and pulled her down into his lap. He pushed back her hair, which swept across Chloe’s neck. Peter kissed her deeply as he ran his hands down her back.

“Are you ready?” he whispered and Chloe nodded.

He trailed kisses down her neck and onto her shoulders, each one causing a warm sensation to spread over Chloe. She leaned back onto the pallet and closed her eyes as Peter embraced her firmly. Finally, after years of waiting, they could be together. And in that moment, all they belonged to was each other.
 
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Twinkie

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Kissing Scenes

Fun thread! I've enjoyed the variety of scenes.

I'd never really written a kissing scene until this past year. I'd always shied away from it or written around it. But with this WIP, I realized I couldn't dance around it--I'd have to actually write it. So far, I have three scenes, but this is the one that's in the best shape, thanks to close readings by people with actual experience. :p It's very calculating, which turned out to be a whole different animal than writing an honest kiss.

In the end, he did exactly what she said he’d do. He just managed to make it seem like it was all her idea, like she was the one in control. When Eirwyn said that all he wanted was to find out what had just happened to the ship, Shay pulled him into an alcove off a disused corridor. In the forced intimacy of the narrow space, she spoke in low tones, telling him about the debris the ship had hit and the apparent sensor malfunction that allowed the debris to go undetected until the collision. They leaned in toward each other as she told him about the sensor diagnostics that were being run and the retrieval of the debris. She was to be part of the team that would analyze it. Her excitement about receiving such a prestigious assignment seemed to radiate from her entire body. It was like she was giving off sparks.

Footsteps approached. Shay yanked on the back of Eirwyn’s shirt, pulling him deeper into the alcove. They were practically in each other’s arms. He couldn’t have planned it any better. He found her hand in the shadows and interlaced his fingers with hers.

“Well, some interruptions are worth it,” said a person walking by. The heavy tread told Eirwyn it was probably someone from military personnel, wearing boots.

“That one definitely was.” Lighter steps. A civilian.

They were both female, but Eirwyn couldn’t see them as they passed. All he could see was Shay’s profile, her face right up close to his. Perfect.

She put her hand on his arm. He traced the constellation of freckles on her throat. Their breaths mingled.

“I want to go in there with you,” he said to her.

“Where?” asked Shay, suddenly breathless.

“The engine room.”

“Oh, you can’t. You’d get me in trouble.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He smiled, the low-wattage one that always made him look as if he was up to something. Shay had never been able to resist it.

She grabbed his shirt in two handfuls and pulled him in the remaining few inches. He was still smiling as her fingers ran up the back of his neck and into his hair and her mouth found his.

Eirwyn prided himself on being a great kisser. He’d had plenty of practice, and a lot of it had been with Shay. It was fun. That was why he did almost everything he did—because it was fun. And this—this was really fun.

He dropped his hands to her waist and slid them around to her lower back, taking over. Nearly lifting her off her feet as he kissed her, he crushed her to him, making it seem as if he could not get her close enough, as if there would always be an infinitesimally small space between them, a gap that could only be crossed with his tongue.

When he pulled away (Eirwyn made sure he was always the first to pull away), her face was flushed, and strands of dark hair had fallen into her eyes. He held her tightly to him for another moment, two. Then he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears, and she sighed. Success.

Shay stepped out of the alcove. She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll sneak you in, and you can watch for a few minutes.”

Success. That was exactly what he’d wanted.
 

Becca C.

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Eeeek, I love this thread!

My current WIP only has one kiss scene -- the romance is a way, way-back subplot, and the relationship definitely doesn't end in a HEA at the end ;) but this kiss is pretty good. Background info: they're exploring the caves and ancient quarries underneath Paris.

In the silence that comes after his words, I can feel Gable looking at me. His breath tickles my collarbones, where it’s exposed by my shirt. It makes me shiver again. I turn my head slightly and Gable kisses me.

It’s my first kiss in four years, and only my second kiss ever. I’ve completely forgotten what it’s like. Gable’s lips, heavenly soft, push at mine. When I recover from my shock, Gable’s hand slides around my waist and I fumble to hold his shoulders, neck, travel down to his chest and up into his hair, grabbing hold of his dreadlocks. We kiss like we’re hungry and we’re each others’ feasts.

Good kissing puts you in a trance. I’ve only ever had a bad kiss, where I was making a mental plan to escape: what I could do, what I could say, to make it end. With a good kiss, the only thing you care about is being as close to him as possible. When your arms can’t squeeze him tight enough, you find yourself scrambling into his lap just to get closer. For a second you despair when he breaks free, but your whole body bursts into happy shivers when you find he only broke the kiss to cover your neck and shoulders in matching kisses. You realize you’re being weirdly quiet so you make a noise to try to tell him how happy you are and then it echoes in the cave and scares you.

Gable plants one last, slow, lingering kiss on my lips and sits back. His eyes are half-closed, dreamy, as they take in my face. I must look shocked and wired, like I’ve been electrocuted. That’s how I feel.
 

bertrigby

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This thread! <3

This kiss isn't romantic so much as lustful - and this isn't a HEA by any means!

Annouchka smiles impishly. “Max is a winner.” She leans in so her breath tickles my ear as she talks. “I want you upstairs now.”

Oh shit. I take a big gulp of beer and follow her up the gilded staircase and into her bedroom.

It’s pink and cream and covered in flowers. Very girly. She points to the bed. “Sit down!”

I perch on the edge, My heart’s thudding so hard I think it might leap out of my chest. She pushes the door closed and walks over. Jesus. I am gonna get so lucky right now.
She sits next to me and turns my face to hers with a manicured finger. Then she leans in and kisses me. It’s all soft lips and wet tongue and I peel away from myself into a moment of heady oblivion. She strokes the edge of my jaw and makes a soft noise as I tease her lower lip with my teeth.

Then she breaks it and leans back. “That’s just a little taste,” she says.
 
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Twinkie

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This thread is way too much fun. More smoochies, more smoochies.

@bertrigby, I dig your avatar, by the way. I had to squint to figure out who it was, and when I did, I gave a happy sigh. :p
 

LadyA

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Ooh, fun! Here's my kiss scene from HIS & Y0URS & NEVER MINE, with a damaged, conflicted MC and the boy she's falling for. For clarification, they're both twins (not each others') and Madonna, Baz and Tiggy are his family's horses:

A hot nose snuffles at my neck and I almost shriek, stifling it just in time so I don’t scare Madonna and Baz. I spin round. The horse in the loosebox behind me is medium height, and his coat is silver-grey, glowing under the flickering light. His eyes and nose, though, are as brown as the underside of a mushroom, and when I hesitantly stroke his muzzle, it is mushroom-soft, too.

“Who – what’s this one’s name?” I ask. I never had the pony obsession like every other girl, but this one has wise eyes, and the way he nuzzles my hand, gently, hot breath tickling my skin, is so human and loving I have a fierce urge to hug him.

“That’s April’s pony. Tiggy. He’s great.” Danny leaves Baz and comes over, stands so close to me I can smell him even over the horses. Lemon shower gel mixing with the sweet smell of the hay in his arms, and underneath that, warm skin.

He flings the hay over Tiggy’s door. The pony instantly forgets about us and ducks down to eat it. “I’m glad we came to Marsley Brook,” he says quietly. “I thought it would be like all the other moves – boring houses, new livery stables for the horses, stupid people at school making stupid twincest and ginger jokes…but something’s different here. I hope Dad stays, this time.”

“I’m glad he chose this place, too.” There’s a piece of straw in Danny’s tousled hair, and suddenly I want to reach up and pull it out, lean in close. If I tilt my face up, my lips will be inches from his. We say nothing, just watching each other. I drink in his grey-green eyes with their long lashes, the scattering of freckles across his cheekbones.

I have never wanted to kiss anyone in my life, but I want to kiss Danny now. Any sane, normal girl would lean up, wind her arms around his neck and pull him close, this gorgeous boy with hair burnished gold by the stable lights.

Maybe I can be a normal girl, now.

I smile at him, as seductively as I can manage. “Forget the stupid people with their stupid jokes. I think you’re gorgeous.”

He blushes, starts to say something, but I cut him off. In this moment, I am confident, everything I want to be. “Kiss me,” I almost growl. His lips curve into a smile. Gently, so gently, he pulls me close to him. I know he’s had a lot of girlfriends, but he is tentative, careful. He probably thinks I am inexperienced, a virgin.

I wish I was. But here is my fresh start. I kiss him back, deeper, slide my hands into his hair and surrender myself to the happy warmth spreading through my body.

We’ve barely started kissing when Mrs Crewe shouts for us, and we break apart. Danny blinks a couple of times. “I always hoped,” he says, then laughs suddenly. “What will the other two think?”

I trace a finger along his jawline. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

He curls a hand around my wrist and kisses the tips of my fingers. “Agreed.”

From somewhere behind us, Mrs Crewe calls that pudding is ready, and Danny reluctantly drops my hand and gives me a boyish grin. Together, we distribute hay from the bale in the corner to all three horses, and then trail back into the house. When I hang my coat back up on its hanger, I notice it smells of him.
 

KTC

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I just read a kiss scene in my YA novel Half Dead and Fully Broken. For background, the girl the narrator is kissing used to be his identical twin brother's girlfriend. His twin is dead.

I took another big swig of beer and moved closer, still under the guise I was upset about my Mom. I was upset. I’m not a total dirtbag, but you know what I mean. I also knew I was milking it for all it was worth. And I’m not naïve enough to think Mel wasn’t milking the excuse, either. I knew what those hearts in the IM meant. They meant her defences were weakening and she was ripe for being taken advantage of, to take advantage.
After one more chug, polishing off the bottle, I moved in to give Mel a peck on the cheek. She turned her head and let it fall on her lips instead.
“You smell like beer,” she said, pretending to be grossed out by the fact. She fanned her hand in front of her face.
I turned away and let out a long burp, the result of my guzzling.
“You pig.”
“Excuse me!” I laughed. “Oops.”
Melanie reached over and took my face in both hands. She held it in front of her for a second before kissing my bottom lip, sucking it in between her lips.
“Your lips are so big,” she said. I was thankful she didn’t say something like, ‘just like Marcus.’ Her eyes were closed, but I kept mine open. I wanted to see if she was enjoying it before I continued. Then I realized her eyes were closed. Were they closed because she enjoyed it, or were they closed because she was transporting herself into the past, kissing Marcus, imagining being in his presence? Did I care which one it was?
I contemplated this as her tongue slipped into the space she created between my lips.
Then I closed my eyes.
After kissing this way for several minutes, I moved in closer and pressed myself against her.
“Melanie,” I whispered. I couldn’t tell her she was the first girl I ever kissed. She’d think I was some kind of retard, or something. I just hoped—over and over—that I was doing it the right way.
We spread out on the couch and when this happened I imagined myself above us, looking down. I saw us, but not us, lying there. It was Melanie and Marcus. Marcus and Melanie. I felt my weight on top of her and leaned into her soft moans.
I realized I was crying. My dumb stupid tears fell on top of her as we frantically kissed. And I tried, for all the world, not to think about Marcus, perfect Marcus smiling and having nice things to say about everything. Precious Marcus talking about a perfect summer day in early May, the impossibility of summer in May.
And I knew she was thinking the same thing. And I sensed her tears slipping down her cheeks and maybe pooling into her eardrums as we kissed and kissed and kissed until I thought my lips would bruise to death.
But suddenly she pushed against my chest. She pushed and pushed and struggled and I forgot myself. I couldn’t let myself stop holding her and kissing her.
“Carter!” Melanie yelped once she finally got her lips untangled from mine for a moment. “Get off. Get off me.”
I lifted my torso off her and looked down into her eyes in amazement. She smelled so good. But she looked scared.
“Get off me. Please.” Now she wiped her lips with the backs of her hands. I struggled to get my feet on the floor and pull myself off of her. Part of me still struggled against stopping, though.
Something finally clicked and I jumped up and sat down at the other end of the couch, trying to adjust myself while simultaneously trying to come across as casual as possible.
“That was intense,” Melanie said, after several minutes of silence punctuated by heavy breathing.
“No shit,” I mumbled. My first make-out session. I didn’t know whether to be excited or humiliated for not getting around to one sooner. Or guilty for losing control.
“Ha,” she said, still gasping for breath. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
“Sorry, Mel.” I realized what I must have been like, lying on top of her and pinning her down like that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
I slid across the couch to be beside her. Put my hand in her hair. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“No. Not mad.” She leaned in and kissed me on the mouth again. “Just try not to do that again. It freaked me out a bit, is all.”
“Do you mean because I look—”
“No. Don’t say it. No. That’s not it. You pinned me, Cart. It just freaked me out a bit.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe I should go. It’s getting kind of late. Your Dad’s probably gonna come home soon. I snuck out. If my parents find out I left the house, I’m dead.”
 
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Maxinquaye

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A kiss is just an act, like walking or talking. It serves a purpose. The story I'm drafting right now has a kiss in it that I think shows this. Apologies for the absolutely raw unedited first draft. It is just for demonstration.

The moon was a sliver in the sky, but it still reflected in the ice. Fuzzy, elongated, dizzy. Like Lyra as she followed him. His scent wafted back at her. Sweat, dirt, too much wine. Filthy. Musky. Manly.

She squinted, and tried to shake her head to clear the cobwebs. She was getting old, but not that old. He was a drunk, a cheater, a thief. She was not interested in him.

The ice didn’t creak under his boots. In fact, his boots made no sound at all when his heels struck the ice. But when she took a step, it sounded like an avalanche. What the…?

“Hold on, hold on,” She held up a hand and stopped. “What… is going on here…? Are you using some kind of magic on me?”

He stopped and turned around. Smiled. “Only my normal manly charms.” He took a step toward her, and suddenly his arms were around her. The dizziness became a storm in her head, like her mind was outside, and in the middle of a blizzard. He kissed her, first quickly. A peck on the lips. Then longer.

Her gauntlet crashed into his head, and he dropped flat on the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?” She said. The noise in her head stopped, and she backed off and turned around. The walls of the town was much farther away than she had thought. They must be far out on the lake. But they had only walked for a few minutes.

She pinched her nose, and closed her eyes. The noise was returning again. She spun around and kicked him in the face. He groaned and rolled over, and the buzzing vanished completely.

“Sh….” Something said. She looked up and realised that she was surrounded by shadows who moved toward her. “She struggles. Why do you struggle?”

One of the figures came to her, while the others stopped. They had formed a circle around her. The close figure reached up, and pushed back its hood. Silver hair fell out, and covered a stunning female face. The eyes glittered with starlight, and the hair glowed faintly.

“You are hulders,” Lyra said, and looked on as one after the other of the shadows removed their hoods. All were beautiful women. All light an ache of want in her stomach. She wanted to reach out to them, wanted to touch their skins, and wanted to whisper sweet silly things. She put her hands to her ears. “You’re the ones that caused this winter.”

In this scene, the kiss is just a sort of action-negotiation in the conflict between the two characters. It serves a purpose, and I think any kiss - or sex for that matter, which is even worse to write than a simple kiss - serves a wider purpose of revealing character or plot.
 

Lady Ice

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I'm not really a fan of detail- it seems creepy and voyeuristic, unless I'm meant to imagine myself in that position.
 

ArachnePhobia

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What should I find during revisions but DJ's first kiss with his space tyrant GF.

***

She touched my shoulder again, eye level with me, her hands gentle but so mechanically powerful I froze.

“I never forget a favor,” She said.

“It’s nothing. I mean it.” I was going for casual. It came out a whisper. My voice broke.

“Don’t say that.” She brushed my black hair from my forehead with her rough, lukewarm fingers. Had the world always been so perfumed with leather and rain? No. It was just her.

Reggie shot out from beneath the armchair and vanished up the stairs in a blur of bristling fur. Startled, I whipped around to watch him. Then I turned back-

I turned back and everything was lightning. Electric. I slid into the chair, rubbing my forehead, lips charged. She covered her mouth, eyes wide again.

“I think I’d best leave,” She said quickly. “I’m frightening your cat.”

“Wait,” I said.

She was out the door before I could even get back on my feet and ask the name of the mysterious stranger whose kiss had, in a very real sense, knocked me on my ass.
 

Elizabeth George's book Write Away