Here's a snippet. I tend towards the more descriptive side (in everything, pretty much). But I try not to get too gross and sloppy. Experiencing a gross sloppy kiss is just about as bad as reading one
[FONT="]“Ye’re no’ afraid of anything," Brenden told her quietly. "Ye doona hesitate over the possibilities. Ye act. ‘Tis who ye are. Kiss me. Doona think. Just do it.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]He was right. Hesitating wasn’t in her nature. And while it meant she made mistakes, she never regretted what could have been. The chances lost that could never be duplicated. It was the best and worst part of her.[/FONT]
[FONT="]So she did it. Not because she believed that everything would turn out for the best. She did it because she knew odds were it’d be her last chance. [/FONT]
[FONT="]At first when she touched his mouth, he did nothing, waiting. So she parted his lips with her own, taking in his breath before touching the tip of her tongue to his, then pulling back slightly to nip his lower lip, pulling it gently before releasing it. [/FONT]
[FONT="]The taste of his mouth was cool and sweet, a special aphrodisiac created just for her. She brushed his lips, tracing their shape, memorizing where they swelled and thinned, memorizing the way they fit against her mouth so perfectly. [/FONT]
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[/FONT][FONT="]She kissed him again, setting her mouth over his before opening it wide in invitation, allowing something of herself to cross between them with the gesture, something that had her heart pounding in anticipation. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Even when he was holding back there was still more to kissing him than had ever been in any kiss before him. Hell, before him, she hadn’t even realized kissing could be like this. Not just a prelude to sex, but a whole conversation in and of itself, shared between two people who wanted one another, in so many ways more than the physical. It was a way of saying something words could never come close to conveying. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Then he was kissing her back, and all thoughts of pain and fear vanished. The only thing she knew was the urgency of his mouth against hers, the way his breath caught, the way his tongue hungrily sought hers, needing the contact, needing it almost as much as the oxygen in his own lungs. [/FONT]
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[/FONT][FONT="]Brenden shuddered. “Do ye feel that?” [/FONT]
[FONT="]Sabrina gasped for air, holding on to him for dear life. [/FONT]
[FONT="]He took her hand and pressed it against his chest.
“Is it real?”[/FONT]