First Kisses: a Book+Main Bites anthology

by Book+Main Inc.

  But he shouldn’t be the one giving it to her. She was his Charge. Nothing good ever came from an Angel falling for his Charge. Not in his opinion anyway.

  He’d have to be more careful, before he got in over his head. He was already in it deep enough.

  But Lord, she tasted good. Like honey and vanilla. The way her body reacted to his touch made his cock swell. The way she pressed against him. How she gasped when he returned the kiss. The passion was driving him to go back and drown himself in her essence.

  But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t spend that many years building a fortress around his heart to have it torn down by a pretty face.

  Who was he kidding? She was so much more than that, and he knew it. The question was, would he be able to get out of this with his heart intact, or would April tear him to shreds like Juliet did so long ago?

  For more Bites by Carrie Pulkinen, visit her at https://bookandmainbites.com/CarriePulkinen

  If you loved this Bite, read The Rest of Forever on Amazon or iBooks

  About Carrie Pulkinen

  Carrie Pulkinen is a paranormal author who has always been fascinated with things that go bump in the night. Of course, when you grow up next door to a cemetery, the dead (and the undead) are hard to ignore. Pair that with her passion for writing and her love of a good happily-ever-after, and becoming a paranormal romance author seems like the only logical career choice. Before she decided to turn her love of the written word into a career, Carrie spent the first part of her professional life as a high school journalism and yearbook teacher. She loves dark chocolate and bad puns, and in her free time, she likes to read, drink wine, and travel with her family.

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  A Fight Leads to a Passionate First Kiss!

  D.D. Miers

  I was angry and humiliated by what he’d done. Not that the majority of the party had even noticed—or perhaps they didn’t care. They were all too consumed with their own agendas to worry about where their host headed with some woman.

  Dorian stood rigid, like he wanted to punch Kieron, but for some reason he stepped aside and let Kieron carry me through the crowd over his shoulder like a petulant child. At the bottom of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Stassi. She followed us from the bar and through the ballroom, her stare murderous with jealousy as we ascended onto the second level.

  “Put me down!” I screamed from over his shoulder, smacking and pounding his back with my fists. I had no idea where he planned to take me as he climbed the stairs two at a time, his anger palpable in his movement. From behind I heard the click of a door and then he used his booted foot to kick it shut, tossing me onto the couch below.

  “Stay,” he ordered.

  Did he think he could just tell me what to do and that I would listen?

  He walked to a large closet and opened both doors. Shit. I was in his bedroom.

  My anger dissipated.

  This was bad.

  Very bad.

  He loosened the bow tie around his neck and slipped it off, followed by his jacket and shirt, leaving him bare-chested and in full view. I tried to focus on anything other than the sharp V of his stomach, but my traitorous body had already begun to anticipate him on top of me. I needed to leave before I did something I’d regret.

  I bolted from the couch, my fingertips brushing the knob just as he reached out and grabbed me. I shifted and squirmed before finally stopping.

  “Are you done?” he asked, as he seized my waist, pulling my back tight against his chest. I stopped moving as the realization of how close we were dawned on me. His body heat permeated through the fabric of my dress. It took every ounce of self-control to keep my eyes open and not get swept away.

  The light stubble on his jaw pressed against my cheek and I practically moaned. All I wanted was for him to turn my head, to force the start of this moment, so I’d be blameless. I waited, eager and ready. Ready for him to pull me closer, tighter . . . but he didn’t. He released me, his fingers gliding over my body as if he fought the desire to keep me in his arms. He stepped back and then away from me.

  I was suddenly cold without the burning heat from Kieron.

  He was letting me go . . . but I couldn’t leave.

  I turned back toward the bedroom to see him standing in front of the fire with his bare back to me. The blaze illuminated every perfect angle of his body. His taut muscles rippled as he stretched forward and placed his arms on the mantel, his hands fisted in anger.

  I knew this moment.

  I’d seen—experienced—this exact moment before. On the first night I saw him. It was as if fate was telling me all of this was inevitable, taking me to this place, whether or not I wanted to go here.

  Small beads of sweat trickled down his deeply tanned skin. I wanted to trace the path of every one with my tongue, the need almost unbearable.

  The familiarity heightened my anticipation, and this time, it was actually happening, the moment in my mind no longer a vivid memory or sense of the unknown. I knew what was coming, and I wanted it.

  Instead of crawling, I walked over to his back until I was in his space, my body almost flush against his. He knew I was there, but he didn’t move, letting me choose whether I acted and how.

  I lifted my hand, but faltered, afraid of how much I wanted him, needed him. He sensed my apprehension and circled to face me. Slowly, he rubbed his fingers down my neck, tilting my head and exposing my skin to his mouth. He pulled my body into his as his tongue glided down the side of my throat, tracing my vein.

  The breath in my throat stilled. It was a territorial gesture, like he marked me as his property and there was nothing I could do about it.

  I wanted him to bite my neck, to suck on the skin with such ferocity that he’d leave marks, claiming me. Just the feel of his warm tongue against my skin was like a brand, a tattoo.

  My flesh ached with unmet desire. I needed him to touch me, more, harder. To seize my waist so tight his fingerprints left bruises on my skin.

  He gripped my jaw and forced me to look at him as he ripped the mask from my eyes and threw it onto the ground. He saw me now. Really saw my face, the looks I couldn’t hide even if I wanted to. The flush of my checks, the tightness of my lips, the darkening of my eyes. He saw everything and he knew what it meant. I wanted this. I wanted him. And there was no going back now.

  His fingers traced my cheeks with tender precision and a trail of fire burned every place he touched.

  “How do you want me?” he asked.

  I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat and failing.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I answered. “I want you in every way,” I told him. My voice didn’t tremble but I shook with violent tremors. “I want it all.”

  He grabbed my hair and pulled me forward, crushing his hot, sensual mouth onto mine. His fingers tugged at the roots of my hair, hurting just enough to tell me he was in charge; I was completely at his mercy. I ignited at the contact, the reality of it a thousand times more pleasurable and intense than any of the visions I’d had. His very presence commanded my desire. It wasn’t a choice. It was the only option.

  His lips teased mine open and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I needed to feel him, to feel what he kissed like, what he tasted like. My eyes closed of their own accord and I gripped him tighter. Our tongues clashed, not to fight, but to dance, and as my fingertips brushed his neck, I swore he shuddered.

  He picked me up and carried me over to his luxurious black silk bed. The cool sheets soothed the fire of my flesh. I looked up through touching lashes. Kieron stared down at me, taking in not just my face but the slope of my neck, my exposed shoulders, the curves of my body. He looked at me as If I were a giant glass of water after a perilous trek th
rough the desert. Or some goddess who deserved nothing more than being worshipped by only those truly devout.

  It made me feel powerful. Confident. That I could reduce a man—a man like him—to a lust-filled beast.

  For more Bites by D.D. Miers, visit her at https://bookandmainbites.com/DDMiers

  If you loved this Bite, read Dark Summoner on Amazon

  About D.D. Miers

  D.D. Miers is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author, an ardent book lover, coffee-creamer enthusiast, and die-hard romance fan. When she’s not writing, she can be found snuggling on the couch with a good book in hand, planning a Harry Potter themed party, or dancing very badly to music. She currently resides in beautiful Southern California with her wonderful husband, a crazy toddler, and the many different characters in her head. I love to hear from fans! You can contact me via email: Author@ddmiers.com

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  A Physical Explanation

  Elle Christensen

  Oliver

  I was never one to put much stock in fairy tales, instant love, or happy endings. They didn’t seem relevant enough in my life to give a second thought. I was focused on my career, building my empire, and I had no desire to find love. In fact, I rarely even dated. I was no Prince Charming and the idea that I would find a princess was practically ludicrous. Never mind the fact that I grew up in a country still ruled by royalty; I’d left it behind long ago.

  Life is full of unexpected twists and turns, but the reality is, our future is of our making, or so I thought. When Preston St. Claire, King of Rêves and my best friend’s older brother, reached out to me, asking me to consider returning to my homeland, I made the decision as a professional. The country was dwindling, and without an infusion of business and tourism, it would soon sink into complete poverty. To my surprise, I realized a part of me had longed to return home.

  These events were based on my decisions, my vision for the future. Turns out, that little diaper-wearing, flying bastard Cupid, was determined to prove me wrong. After several work-consumed months, I finally poked my head outside the hole I’d been in and accepted a dinner invitation at the palace. If you’re picturing a gigantic medieval structure complete with turrets and a moat, keep right on imagining it. It’s like something out of a movie, and speaking of movie moments, here is another one for you. I walked into the picturesque, stately home and was literally knocked on my ass by the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Philippa St. Claire came barreling around a corner, and the next thing I knew, we were sprawled on the ground, and I became very aware of the lush curves pressed against my body. The smell of jasmine invaded my senses, sending a tingling straight to my groin. After helping her to her feet, I swept my gaze from top to bottom, and the tingling became a burn. She had a knockout figure with large breasts, a small waist, and flared hips, all encased in a pair of tight jeans, and a black, long-sleeved top that clung to her upper body. She was on the shorter side, maybe five foot four, making her seem even more delicate next to my six foot three frame. And yet, I had a hunch her curvy body would fit perfectly into mine. Her dark, almost black hair hung from a ponytail in ringlets to the center of her back, and her sable eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. I drank in the sight of her honey-colored skin—heart-shaped face, with high cheekbones, and bee-stung lips. She was fucking gorgeous.

  I wanted her. And not for a quick fuck or even one night. I wanted to be her forever. She was eighteen—the youngest of twelve sisters, including three sets of twins—so there was an eleven-year age gap between us. I didn’t give a flying fuck about it; Philippa St. Claire belonged to me.

  After one evening in her company, I was even more enchanted. Not only was she beautiful on the outside, but her sisters and parents clearly adored her. When she displayed some sass and wit, it only confirmed what I’d felt, and I started to formulate a plan. I made time over the next several months to visit the family often and, in particular, get Pippa and me alone so we could get to know each other. She was earning her degree in English Literature, while attempting to establish herself as an “Indie” author. Whatever that meant. She wanted to travel the world, and I was more than happy to make her dreams come true, if only she would let me.

  I was relieved when I didn’t notice a man spending time with her. If they came around, she sent them scurrying away with their head hanging in defeat and disappointment. It made things simpler for me since I didn’t have to pull them aside and threaten them to stay away from my woman.

  As time went by, her face began to light up when she first saw me. She smiled incessantly, even when we had a spat. Admittedly, they were usually my fault since I enjoyed getting her riled. She looked so fuckable when she was fired up about something.

  To my frustration, however, she avoided talking about us, or relationships in general, other than the occasional smartass remark about being “tied down.” I knew she’d fallen for me the instant we’d met, just as I had for her, but I had thought it best to allow her time for our relationship to build and for her to recognize her feelings on her own. Until it became clear my siren wasn’t going slow at all, she was putting up a fucking roadblock.

  I’ve finally run out of patience. I’m in a constant state of arousal every time I’m around Pippa—my cock hard and my body craving her touch. It’s time to claim her. Out of respect, I took her father aside yesterday and told him of my intentions with his daughter, although, his disapproval would not have stopped me. He laughed and shook his head with mock disappointment. “Another one bites the dust.” I gave him a questioning lift of my eyebrow. Instead of an explanation he said, “I wish you luck. If anyone can convince that girl to settle down, I’d put my money on you. But, I’ll enjoy watching her lead you on a merry chase.” He clapped me on the back and strolled from the room, still laughing. I was a little confused but didn’t dwell on it.

  I showed up today with flowers and an invitation to dinner. I was rendered speechless, a moment ago, when I was turned down with a bright smile and a polite “No, thank you.”

  It is taking me a lot of effort not to let my jaw hang open in surprise. It seems my little spitfire is misunderstanding what is happening right now. I decide to try a physical explanation before a verbal one. Taking her hand, I tug her into my arms and crash my mouth down onto hers. She freezes, taken by surprise, and a little gasp gives me the opening I need. My tongue sweeps inside, and I angle my head to deepen the kiss. After a moment, she melts into the kiss and begins to respond, albeit hesitantly. A shot of even stronger arousal sparks inside me when it becomes obvious how innocent she is. It makes me want to beat my chest and yell like a caveman at the thought of being the one to teach her about pleasure.

  Before I lose my control, I lift my head, smirking when I see the dazed expression on her face, and the blatant arousal in her eyes. There aren’t any signs that she isn’t attracted to me or doesn’t feel the pull between us. If there were, I might have walked away. But, it clearly isn’t the case, and I’m determined to get Pippa to admit to it, eventually. Sooner, rather than later.

  I keep ahold of her hand and lead her over to the couch where I sit close beside her. “Pippa, let me be clear. You are mine. You have been since the moment you knocked me on my ass.”

  For more Bites by Elle Christensen, visit her at https://bookandmainbites.com/ellec

  If you loved this Bite, read Love in Fantasy on Amazon and iBooks

  About Elle Christensen

  I’m a lover of all things books, a hopeless romantic, and have always had a passion for writing. Between being a sappy romantic, my love of an HEA, my crazy imagination, and ok, let’s be real, my dirty mind, I fell easily into writing romance. I’m a huge baseball fan and yet, a complete girly, girl. I’m an obsessive reader and have a slight (haha
ha! Slight? Yeah, right) addiction to signed books. I’m married to my very own book boyfriend, an alpha male with a sexy, sweet side. He is the best inspiration, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. He is also incredibly patient and understanding about the fact that he has to fight the voices in my head for my attention. I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!

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  I Don’t Need Rescuing

  Graceley Knox

  I’m sexy as fuck. Heads turn when I walk by. I may not be the elven model of perfection, but I’m my own perfection, and I happen to think I look damn good. I meet my own eyes in the mirror, my usual confidence returning full force. That’s enough of a pity party for today.

  I step into the shower. My tired and abused muscles feel as though they’re melting with the massaging jets of water pounding on them.