So I wonder if Quentin had any idea this thread would get so much love! After reading the entire thread, I am hesitant to post mine, but what the hell. This is from my current WIP which is still a rough draft. And my kissing scenes tend toward the long and semi-detailed. No "They kissed" and done.
Background: Kora and Uncas are in a cave hidden by a waterfall. Uncas is an alien and when I talk about his temple-ridges, he has knotty lines of hard flesh along his temples, just to be clear.
“Uncas,” I breathe, “it's beautiful.” The fading light of day illuminates the water with its last light, spreading a flickering, waving shadow of greens and blues around the cavern walls. My fingers long to touch it, but even stretching out, I am unable to bridge the distance.
When Uncas wraps his hand tightly around my upper arm and plants his feet feet firmly on the slippery ground, I understand. I wrap my own hand around his arm, and lean dangerously over the empty air, spanning the gap between the cliffs edge and the flowing sheet of water. Coldness flows past my fingers, spraying my face and bending the sheet of glass. It melds around my hand as if it were barely there, a minor inconvenience in the eons of time that plummet from the cliffs above.
Two fingers slid into the front of my waist band, pulling me away from the edge. I am utterly breathless, though I am not sure if it is the waterfall, or the feel of Uncas' fingers against my abdomen. He pulls me in, until we are face to face, his hand sandwich between us. Liquid fire pools within me, and I imagine his fingers sliding further into the space between us.
My eyes are locked on his, and for the first time, my awkwardness is absent. Not that I don't feel it, but that I don't react. I could not tear myself from his gaze if I tried.
Uncas' eyes flick across my face, as if he is scared to settle in one spot. I can feel the trembling of his body pressed against me and the beat of his heart that matches my own. His uncertainty is palpable and I decide to do the only thing I can think of.
With a shaky hand, I reach up to his scalp, running fingers through his hair as I did yesterday. His head tilts back slightly as his lips part and he presses himself more tightly against me. The hand that gripped my arm releases, sliding to my back, gentle fingers melding to my skin as they slip beneath my shirt.
Now my fingers explore his temple-ridges, just like before, my brain ever aware of the fingers still hooked in my waistband and the hand now caressing my back. Fire trails his touch, but I have to believe I have the same affect, because he leans into my hand as my fingers stroke the knobby ridges.
His face markings are next, and he barely breathes as I trace the black marks around his eye, his cheek, down his neck. I find myself wanting to press my lips to the place where his shoulder and throat meet, and I almost do, but I am terrified to try.
Of their own accord, my fingers find themselves back on Uncas' face, tracing the lines, but only long enough to come within vicinity of his mouth. A light brush spreads his lips further and his tongue tastes my fingertips as they pass.
My thumb trails his bottom lip on the return pass, and Uncas tilts his head forward, his eyes opening. They stare into mine, searching. Between us, heart beats pass, echoing from one chest to the other, a tattoo of things unspoken. And then his lips are against mine.
The world explodes in tiny fragments of bliss, and I can't help thinking of Alyss. If what she felt each time a boy kissed her was a fraction of this agonizing pleasure, than I have not given her enough credit. For she has kissed many boys, but only given all to a few.
And right now I want to give all. The sensation of tongues and lips moving together, our bodies molded into one, my skin coming alive to the touch of his exploring hands, has banished any inhibitions or logical thoughts that might have clouded this moment. There is no world outside this cave. Only rushing water, beating hearts and skin and lips and fire.