Aug 24, 2012

Angel's Redemption Sunday Snoggin Time!

Hello folks. Time for another Sunday Snog! For more sweet kisses, click the link, and read more from all the awesome authors!

This snog comes from a polished and subbed story called Angel's Redemption. Main character Blaine Schneider is a little shocked to have an angel, Lynsael, suddenly living with him. He's even more shocked when Lyn tries to kiss him...


Just then, the kitchen tap hissed, and Blaine turned to spot Lynsael at the sink. Dishes clanked together as he filled the basin with soapy water. Lynsael scrubbed at the dirty dishes, the baggy jeans that Blaine had loaned him barely held up by the belt. He even washed the bowl that Blaine had used for cereal before he'd left for practice.

Clank, he set the first plate in the strainer, robust shoulders tensed as Lynsael stretched his body out across the double sink to reach. Then he seized hold of the loops of his jeans, yanked them up to his waist, and continued to the next plate.

Maybe Blaine could apologize for being such an ass. Besides, he didn't even ask Lynsael to do the dishes. In fact, Lynsael didn't really have to do anything but be the marvelous creature that was originally carved in the sculpture; the strong, lean, handsome angel that had came alive under the pure white light.

Bubbles of soap waved and fluttered in the air as Lynsael continued the job. His jeans threatened to fall around his hips, and, again, he jerked them back up. Black wings spread wide across his back, and his long, dark hair waved behind him as he moved back and forth, setting the dishes to dry.

He was that glorious angel Blaine knew from the statue. The same beautiful creature with delicately carved muscles, and an ethereal face.

Blaine choked down the butterflies rising in his stomach. His heart thumped into his throat. Slowly, he stepped back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to Lynsael, who refused to look at him.

You don't have to do that, you know,” Blaine said, feeling a little foolish for the way he'd acted.

I just figured I might as well.” Lynsael shrugged, stretching to put a fork away.

Blaine reached out and grabbed Lynsael's arm. “Lyn.” He turned and furrowed his brows. “Don't--” the words caught on Blaine's tongue as he focused in on the perfectly sculpted face, the same one he couldn't take his eyes off when he first saw the completed statue.

Lynsael's face flushed red; his arm began to tremble. Blaine tempted himself to pull him in and steal those full, inviting lips, but Blaine didn't have the chance to struggle with his fascination. Lynsael leaned into him, and brushed his pale lips against Blaine's.

Blaine's legs felt weak, and his heart thumped hard in his chest. It was perfect; the moist, plump lips on his, and the lean, warm body pressed so close. He just couldn't take it. The heat built up into Blaine's cheeks; he dropped Lynsael's arm and backed away.

That was...” Blaine couldn't find the words.

Wonderful?” Lynsael tried, as he closed the gap between them.

Blaine pushed against Lynsael's clothed chest. “No. Weird.” He slid against the counter, and freed himself from Lynsael's warmth.

His feet had threatened to trip him as he staggered his way back into the living room. The flush of heat through his body lessened, leaving him flustered. “I... gotta get ready for bed,” Blaine said, feeling Lynsael's presence hovering behind him.

But it's early—”

Gotta work at six in the morning,” Blaine replied, stumbling off into the bedroom.

Aug 19, 2012

A Spellbinding Sunday Snog

I'm new to Victoria Blisse's Sunday Snog, so readers if you haven't yet, visit the website and click on the links to read more from all the fantabulous authors! And I'm late to the party.

My snog today is from my current WIP, A Spellbinding Curse.

We start in the middle of the scene where Max, the MC, is over at his neighbor's house to ask why the man has been hanging around naked with his curtains open. Actually he doesn't just 'hang around', he does some other very naughty things in front of his window. :)

“Are you enjoying the show?” Antony asked suddenly.
Max swallowed the lump in his throat. “Show?”
Antony snickered. “I... like to hang out nude. Especially in my own house. It's my time to be free from clothing restraints.”
“You're a nudist?”
“I suppose.”
“Then, what's up with...” Max pointed to the opened window shades. “The exhibition?”
“So you don't like the show?” Antony furrowed his brows.
“I-I-I don't...”
Antony crossed the few feet closer to Max. “Listen. I saw you earlier. Watching.” He leaned in. The flush had spread to Max's palms, leaving them cold and clammy. “You've been watching the entire week.” Antony's tone lowered to a potent growl. “Fucking yourself. Wanting to be fucked. Or to fuck someone... Me. Right?”
Max's legs quaked. He couldn't let himself be swept up by this joker, but it was working all so damned well. His jeans became suddenly too tight. His hands trembled. Antony's hot breath and intoxicating scent wasn't helping.
“W-Well, I...” his voice fell silent.
Antony lips curved into a smile as he eyed Max. “Yes?”
What was left to say? Max couldn't figure it out. He felt trapped in the gorgeous eyes above him and in the strong muscular frame that wasn't even touching him. Jesus. He wanted Antony to do something. Anything. Kick him out so he couldn't make an ass of himself anymore, or strip off his clothes. Either would be fine with him.
“What's wrong?” Antony asked and Max shook his head, still tongue tied. Antony chuckled again. “You do like it? The show.”
Antony's hand snaked around his side and Max could swear his heart stopped. A torrid breath swept passed his ear as Antony closed in. Antony's lips braced his neck and kissed gently, sliding up to his ear, pulling on Max's earlobe. Teased so badly, Max fell back into Antony's arm, unable to move or speak and barely even able to breathe.
A strong hand held him there, while Antony moved to kiss him. Fervent lips forced open Max's, his tongue darted in, taking control. Max could taste him, a slight bitter aftertaste from something he didn't know of. Maybe Antony had drank before the show began. But it wasn't alcohol that filled his mouth.
It didn't matter. Max circled his tongue around Antony's, feeling teeth and gums, before giving up and letting Antony control him instead.
Antony's right hand had slid up Max's back and to his nape, where he cupped Max's neck in his palm. His left hand found the bottom seam of Max's t-shirt. There he brushed his fingers against Max's skin, causing gooseflesh, and slowly found a nipple. He pinched gently, then circled and pinched again. Max's jeans were entirely too tight now; his cock quivered, needing released from its trap.

Aug 15, 2012

Oooh, naughty, naughty author

I'm a naughty author. I haven't updated in about a month XD.

Also, I've been hella mixed up in projects, I'm surprised I even know where the hell I'm at with everything. See I keep a WIP page-thingy here to keep track of what I SHOULD BE DOING.
That hasn't been going well.

After fighting project after project, I ended up writing something completely new and totally loving it. Heh. How's that for tsk tsk.

But at least I know what I'm doing for the rest of August.