Hey friends! Today is yet another day in which I didn't feel like writing/posting a review, so I'm doing another favorites post! You can check out my favorite YA foreign editions posts HERE, favorite YA books (alphabet style) HERE, and favorite YA books with one-word titles HERE.
In the spirit of Valentine's Day (week), here are some of my favorite swoons from YA books!
Note: this isn't a definitive list, as usual! You can see all of my Swoon Thursday posts HERE.
She pressed her lips to his, softly at first. His hands circled her waist, and he parted his legs, pulling her closer to him. His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, tracing the bare skin of her back, and it didn't matter that she had something to tell him, because she'd forgotten how to talk.
She climbed into his lap, letting her knees rest on either side of him. Her lips left his for a moment, and he leaned forward to catch them again.
She'd kissed him before. She'd kissed him in this bed before, even. But this was different. This was her body on fire, her brain turned to mush. This was nothing but him and the heat of his breath on her mouth.
"What are you doing to me, you plague of a girl?" he whispered.
"If I'm a plague, then you should keep your distance, unless you plan on being destroyed." The weapons still in her grasp, she shoved against his chest.
"No." His hands dropped to her waist. "Destroy me."
The bow and arrow clattered to the ground as he brought his mouth to hers.
And there was no turning back.
She was drowning in sandalwood and sunlight. Time ceased to be more than a notion. Her lips were hers one moment. And then they were his. The taste of him on her tongue was like sun-warmed honey. Like cool water sliding down her parched throat. Like the promise of all her tomorrows in a single sigh. When she wound her fingers in his hair to draw her body against his, he stilled for a breath, and she knew, as he knew, that they were lost. Lost forever.
Lightning flashed outside, bright and hot. They moved at the same time, his mouth meeting hers, hungry and gentle and warm. His chiaan [energy] poured into her, faster than before, and it fused with her own, twining through Nalia. She tried to resist it, didn't want to be this close to Raif, to be distracted from what she knew she had to do -
Raif leaned against the table next to them and pulled her closer, his kiss deepening until she didn't know what was her and what was him. The kiss lasted forever, and no time at all. It was the first experience Nalia had of feeling safe, truly safe, and for a while it didn't matter that this might be the last beautiful moment of her short life.
She smelled the clean, male scent of him, felt the rougher texture of his skin against her cheek, and drew a shaking breath. That pulse she had so brutally suppressed hammered into every part of her body, her fingers bunching with sensation. She found herself turning her face to meet his careful progress, her lips finding the soft curve of his mouth. They both paused, breath mingling, and then she felt the warm pressure of his tongue against her own, the taste of him, salt and wine, merging with the clean smell of his skin. It was startling and tender... and then it changed. Something wild crashed through her, a wave of throbbing energy that drove her up against his body, her fingers winding hard into the short crop of his hair. She felt him sway back, his breath catching into a gasp. She opened her eyes and saw the shock in his face flare into something more primal. She wrested him back to her mouth, any tenderness subsumed by animal need. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her hard onto his chest, both of them locked into the dizzying sensation of their mouths and tongues and bodies pressed against each other. She felt as if she wanted to crawl into his skin, taste him, touch him, fill herself with him.
"Don't talk." I press a kiss to her throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips, its rhythm confirming that her blood is rushing as fast as mine."
"Niklaas wait, I -"
I slip my hand from her hair, trapping her jaw between my fingers as I fit my mouth to hers, cutting her off with a kiss. She moans, a panicked sound that surprises me as it vibrates across my skin, but when I part my mouth, she parts hers, too, her lips gliding over mine with a ragged sigh. She doesn't pull away, and after a moment I regain the courage to angle my head, then rushing out, warming the whisper of space between her mouth and mine.
A whisper is too much.
So I didn't say anything else as I closed the last of the distance between us.
He said he would have torn the desert apart looking for me. And I felt in that kiss his desperation as his mouth found mine.
It wasn't enough with Jin; it was never enough. His hands were in the mess of my torn palace clothes, trying to find me under the too-heavy stitching and the weight of the gaudy khalat. One hand tangled into my hair, pulling away the delicate gold circlet that still clung there. He freed it from my hair, casting it aside, pulling pieces of the palace away from me, trying to return me to him.
It was like being caught in a wildfire, desperate for breath, like if we stopped we would extinguish. Without thinking, I pulled my hands away from his chest. It took one quick movement for my torn khalat to join his shirt in the heap on the groun, until I was waring nothing but the thin linen chemise underneath.
"Tell me you're real."
"I'm real," I whisper. "I'm still here. I can ask you more questions, if you'd like."
"Later," he says.
Then Kiaran's lips are on mine. Hard. Desperate. Like he can't get enough of me; like I'm going to disappear. As if at any moment, he's going to wake up from this dream and I'll be gone.
Kiaran kisses me like he's about to lose me all over again.
He isn't gentle. There's no softness, no hesitancy, no delicate touches. And I don't want kind. I don't want gentle. My desire is just as fierce, just as demanding. I grasp the back of his shirt, digging in toughly with my fingernails. More. I want more. I need this. I need him. I pull back only briefly to yank off my shirt, the rest of my clothes, his. Then it's Kiaran's skin against mine and we're both burning, kissing, biting, clawing. It's a physical urgency, a devouring need, a benediction of yes, now, more.
Her breath was so short she could hardly speak. She had one hand on his chest, the rhythm of it fast and hard beneath her palm. He was so beautiful, and so unsure, and she had never been more so.
"Sophia...," he whispered.
She slipped her other arm around his bruised neck and put her lips on the pulse at the case of his throat.
He made a noise somewhere deep in his chest, and then he had his mouth on hers, hard, holding her head still as she was pressed back, rattling the shelves, and then back again until she hit the wall. All at once she was boiling, frantic, trying to kiss him more, hold him closer with fistfuls of his shirt, pinned by his body to the painted plaster. He seemed to have forgotten his worries about noise. It was a long time before his lips broke away and he put his forehead against hers, breath coming fast.
He pushed me inside, kicked the door shut, and flung me back against it, his mouth hot and fervent on mine. I locked my arms around his neck, drowning in sensation. He felt warm, solid, and tough. His weight crushed me, delicious and real. I'd imagined this moment. I'd dreamed about it, but my imagination was a poor substitute for the real thing. My blood seemed to melt, pouring through me in throbbing surges and leaving me light-headed.
He ran his hand up my arm, and I quivered.
At my response, his arms, which had been braced on either side of my shoulders, tightened around me.
I hung my fingers on the waistband of his jeans, trying to balance myself. My knees felt slippery, weak. Desire washed over me, each new wave quicker and sharper. When my fingertips brushed the smooth skin where his jeans rode his hips, he shivered and kissed me harder.
Juliana laughed lightly and opened her mouth to argue but Spencer was no longer hesitant. He placed his bandaged hand behind her head and drew her close. With his other hand, he gently tilted her chin and then slowly trailer his fingertips down the side of her neck, until his neck until his hand came to rest on her shoulder. He pulled her closer still, even as their lips touched.
It was a tender kiss at first. Their lips barely met. But the warmth of their shared breath, the press of their bodies and the heat pulsing between them lengthened the kiss and deepened it. Juliana grabbed tightly at Spencer's lapel.
She heard a soft moan and a hum of pleasure but had no idea which one of them made which sound. It didn't matter. Her eyes were closed, and the only things that existed in the world were Spencer's tender strength and the sense of intoxication rushing through her body, warming her all over.
I post a new swoon every Thursday! You can read all of them by clicking the button below. There are many more good ones - these are just ten of my favorite!