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.

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