Kieran finds his muse; Melissa finds her new addiction in Poet by A.M. Johnson.
Not even his words can save her....
SNEAK PEEK
We were sitting on my bed, about thirty minutes into The Princess Bride, which Melissa said she’d never seen, to which I’d told her she had to tell Father Becker this sad bit of sacrilege on Wednesday in confession, because, frankly, that shit just wasn’t okay. But I’d only been able to distract myself with outrage for Melissa’s lack of movie prowess for about five minutes. Because, once she walked out of the bathroom and back into my bedroom, with her hair down, her bare thighs exposed in my boxer shorts, I hadn’t been sure if I would be able to adhere to the no touching policy. I’d found an old pair of boxers in the back of my underwear drawer, and I had no idea how hot she would look wearing them with my old University of Utah t-shirt. I kept peeking glances at her legs, and I wondered if Melissa was internally combusting, too.
Liam would say go big or go home, and damn it, I should have probably talked to Declan more about this stuff, but I banked my nerves and placed my hand on her thigh just above her knee. She leaned into me, her eyes on the television and laughed softly at something going on with the movie. This moment felt natural. She fit perfectly at my side, and her skin under my palm was just the beginning of something better, something great. I could smell her hair. That jasmine scent infiltrated my brain, and I knew I wouldn’t keep my eyes on the movie much longer.
My thumb started tracing circles on her skin, trailing a little higher, daring myself to take another inch or two. I did. Melissa turned her head slightly. She wasn’t watching the movie anymore either. I wet my lips and exhaled as I brought my eyes to hers. The room was dark, the light of the screen flickered, and created shadows across her face and eyes. She worried her lip, her eyes on my mouth, and the marked rise and fall of her chest clued me in. She wanted this just as badly as I did.
I was about to lean in for a kiss when she moved. She lifted herself onto her knees and, in one fluid movement, she was straddling me. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was in my throat, and when she locked me in her gaze, I was a lamb willing and ready to be slaughtered.
“Melissa—”
She cut me off with her mouth. Soft lips and hard kisses. She moaned when my grip found her backside and tugged her closer. My hands slipped easily under the hem of the boxers. She rocked her hips at my urging and framed my face with her hands, deepening the kiss. I kneaded the flesh of her ass and savored the taste of her tongue as it dipped and danced with mine. Any chaste or moral thought I’d had vanished when she pressed down onto my dick and shuddered. A desperate sound growled from my lips, and I grasped her hips to keep her still.
Lazy kisses, wet kisses, hot breath, and holy shit, all I wanted was relief, but I was a horny teenager trapped inside a man’s body, and I had no idea what to do with the creature on top of me. I wanted to feel her, feel between her legs, taste her, and then fall inside of her and never come out.
“I want to touch you.” My voice was gravel as I pulled from her mouth.
“Okay,” she said with a hint of her own fear, and a shy smile.
She took my hand in hers and brought it to her breast. My throat bobbed, and I thumbed her hard nipple through the thin cotton of her shirt. She closed her eyes, and I sat up straight and nipped her jaw. I palmed her other breast and licked her pulse with my tongue. She made a needy little sound, and I smiled against the groove between her neck and shoulder.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, and when I leaned back, her eyes were open, her lip pinned between her teeth.
I had a feeling she wouldn’t have asked a normal guy, a guy who wasn’t as inexperienced as me, and I tried to not let that bother me. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her to give me everything. I nodded and her hands curled around the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up. I dropped my hold on her and lifted the shirt over my head.
I tried not to act too pleased at the widening of her eyes as she devoured my muscles with her stare. I watched her cheeks go from pink to scarlet, and I one hundred percent, without a doubt, knew red was my favorite color. She raised tentative fingertips to my skin, and I shivered as she traced the ink on my neck down to my chest.
“This is the only tattoo you have? A rosary?” she asked giving me bashful eyes.
“Yes.” I brushed my thumb along her chin. I couldn’t stop touching her. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever want another one. Whenever I have doubts, or if I feel like I’m stumbling, losing my way, praying the rosary… it always brings me peace.” I placed my hand over hers where she’d rested it against my chest. I had faith. I wouldn’t deny that… that I loved my church, but I was happy being a man, too. “Having a rosary permanently placed on my skin, for me, it’s a powerful symbol, and it may sound stupid, but it helps me remember I’m not alone.”
Melissa leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” She kissed my top lip. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”
I chuckled against her mouth. “You sure it’s not my abs?”
She playfully nipped my lips. “Those are fucking sexy, too.”
“Yeah?”
She rolled her hips and I shut up. She smiled, her lips spreading across mine, and ran her fingers down my chest. Slow, so achingly slow, and when she teased the waistband of my sweats I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop her from the descent. Her fingers dipped just below the elastic, sweeping the tip of my dick, and every muscle in my stomach contracted.
My fingers fisted in her hair and my tender kiss transformed into rough waves. My tongue plunged into her mouth, demanding her attention, demanding that she do that again. I should have stopped her, kissed her a few more times, watched the movie, and then went to bed, but her hand slipped all the way down, her fingers finding a firm grip around my length, and all my morals, my chivalry, flew out the fucking window. My fingers clenched the strands of her hair tighter as she moved her fist, pumping once and then again. Some unintelligible, guttural noise echoed in the room, and I was sure it was me, but I didn’t care. This felt good, she felt good.
My heart was pounding with each touch she gave me. Feeling... feeling, I was feeling, and her tongue was on mine. I was lost, about to crash over that blissful edge, and I craved it, fuck, I needed it, but I grabbed her hand and stopped her.
“Why did you—”
My lips crashed into hers and when I pulled away again she was breathless. Her eyes were dark, and hooded, and held every bit of my world inside the amber flame of her irises. I wanted to make her feel as beautiful as she looked in this very moment.
My hands pulled at the cotton of her shirt and she helped me remove it. She was still wearing a bra, and that was fine with me, because I had no intention of removing it. Tonight wasn’t about sex, it was about testing limits, giving in, and allowing ourselves to feel, to learn, to know each other that much more. I eased her onto her back, her inky black hair sprawled out onto the mattress. My kisses followed along her neck, past her collarbone. My hand palmed her breast and I gently bit her nipple through the lace of her bra. Melissa ran her fingers through my hair as I lowered my mouth to her stomach, but when I moved past her belly button, her entire body went stiff.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked as she took my face between her hands.
I smiled and she relaxed below me. I kissed the waistband of her boxer shorts, and when I looked up at her again, her face was a mixture of desire and insecurity.
“Is this okay?” I asked as I inched the underwear down a little more, and when she didn’t stop me, I continued my exploration. I’d never done this before, gone down on a woman. I’d messed around, but never this. The urge, the need to taste Melissa wasn’t something I could’ve prepared for. It was forceful and it drove the blood through my heart—turbulent and fast.
She raised her hips as I slipped the boxers down. The pads of my fingers only left the silk of her skin as I removed the underwear and pushed them to the side. My eyes lifted to hers, and I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was scared, but when my Adam’s apple bobbed, Melissa spoke. “We can stop.”
My hands shook as I slid them up her legs. Fear, adrenaline, basic human lust, had my fingers digging into her inner thighs as I spread them apart.
My gaze was locked on hers, my tone rough and raw as I said, “I couldn’t stop if I wanted to...”
I didn’t want to.
My nose skimmed the curve of her core, the short-trimmed hairs were softer than I would have imagined. My tongue took its first taste, and her feminine scent enveloped every sense. Her quiet gasp, that soft cry, it set every nerve ending I had on edge. I’d given myself over to the temptation of her. I’d tasted what had always been forbidden. When my lips sucked on the sweet flesh, I fell and was perfectly content to never surface again.
Liam would say go big or go home, and damn it, I should have probably talked to Declan more about this stuff, but I banked my nerves and placed my hand on her thigh just above her knee. She leaned into me, her eyes on the television and laughed softly at something going on with the movie. This moment felt natural. She fit perfectly at my side, and her skin under my palm was just the beginning of something better, something great. I could smell her hair. That jasmine scent infiltrated my brain, and I knew I wouldn’t keep my eyes on the movie much longer.
My thumb started tracing circles on her skin, trailing a little higher, daring myself to take another inch or two. I did. Melissa turned her head slightly. She wasn’t watching the movie anymore either. I wet my lips and exhaled as I brought my eyes to hers. The room was dark, the light of the screen flickered, and created shadows across her face and eyes. She worried her lip, her eyes on my mouth, and the marked rise and fall of her chest clued me in. She wanted this just as badly as I did.
I was about to lean in for a kiss when she moved. She lifted herself onto her knees and, in one fluid movement, she was straddling me. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was in my throat, and when she locked me in her gaze, I was a lamb willing and ready to be slaughtered.
“Melissa—”
She cut me off with her mouth. Soft lips and hard kisses. She moaned when my grip found her backside and tugged her closer. My hands slipped easily under the hem of the boxers. She rocked her hips at my urging and framed my face with her hands, deepening the kiss. I kneaded the flesh of her ass and savored the taste of her tongue as it dipped and danced with mine. Any chaste or moral thought I’d had vanished when she pressed down onto my dick and shuddered. A desperate sound growled from my lips, and I grasped her hips to keep her still.
Lazy kisses, wet kisses, hot breath, and holy shit, all I wanted was relief, but I was a horny teenager trapped inside a man’s body, and I had no idea what to do with the creature on top of me. I wanted to feel her, feel between her legs, taste her, and then fall inside of her and never come out.
“I want to touch you.” My voice was gravel as I pulled from her mouth.
“Okay,” she said with a hint of her own fear, and a shy smile.
She took my hand in hers and brought it to her breast. My throat bobbed, and I thumbed her hard nipple through the thin cotton of her shirt. She closed her eyes, and I sat up straight and nipped her jaw. I palmed her other breast and licked her pulse with my tongue. She made a needy little sound, and I smiled against the groove between her neck and shoulder.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, and when I leaned back, her eyes were open, her lip pinned between her teeth.
I had a feeling she wouldn’t have asked a normal guy, a guy who wasn’t as inexperienced as me, and I tried to not let that bother me. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her to give me everything. I nodded and her hands curled around the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up. I dropped my hold on her and lifted the shirt over my head.
I tried not to act too pleased at the widening of her eyes as she devoured my muscles with her stare. I watched her cheeks go from pink to scarlet, and I one hundred percent, without a doubt, knew red was my favorite color. She raised tentative fingertips to my skin, and I shivered as she traced the ink on my neck down to my chest.
“This is the only tattoo you have? A rosary?” she asked giving me bashful eyes.
“Yes.” I brushed my thumb along her chin. I couldn’t stop touching her. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever want another one. Whenever I have doubts, or if I feel like I’m stumbling, losing my way, praying the rosary… it always brings me peace.” I placed my hand over hers where she’d rested it against my chest. I had faith. I wouldn’t deny that… that I loved my church, but I was happy being a man, too. “Having a rosary permanently placed on my skin, for me, it’s a powerful symbol, and it may sound stupid, but it helps me remember I’m not alone.”
Melissa leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” She kissed my top lip. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”
I chuckled against her mouth. “You sure it’s not my abs?”
She playfully nipped my lips. “Those are fucking sexy, too.”
“Yeah?”
She rolled her hips and I shut up. She smiled, her lips spreading across mine, and ran her fingers down my chest. Slow, so achingly slow, and when she teased the waistband of my sweats I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop her from the descent. Her fingers dipped just below the elastic, sweeping the tip of my dick, and every muscle in my stomach contracted.
My fingers fisted in her hair and my tender kiss transformed into rough waves. My tongue plunged into her mouth, demanding her attention, demanding that she do that again. I should have stopped her, kissed her a few more times, watched the movie, and then went to bed, but her hand slipped all the way down, her fingers finding a firm grip around my length, and all my morals, my chivalry, flew out the fucking window. My fingers clenched the strands of her hair tighter as she moved her fist, pumping once and then again. Some unintelligible, guttural noise echoed in the room, and I was sure it was me, but I didn’t care. This felt good, she felt good.
My heart was pounding with each touch she gave me. Feeling... feeling, I was feeling, and her tongue was on mine. I was lost, about to crash over that blissful edge, and I craved it, fuck, I needed it, but I grabbed her hand and stopped her.
“Why did you—”
My lips crashed into hers and when I pulled away again she was breathless. Her eyes were dark, and hooded, and held every bit of my world inside the amber flame of her irises. I wanted to make her feel as beautiful as she looked in this very moment.
My hands pulled at the cotton of her shirt and she helped me remove it. She was still wearing a bra, and that was fine with me, because I had no intention of removing it. Tonight wasn’t about sex, it was about testing limits, giving in, and allowing ourselves to feel, to learn, to know each other that much more. I eased her onto her back, her inky black hair sprawled out onto the mattress. My kisses followed along her neck, past her collarbone. My hand palmed her breast and I gently bit her nipple through the lace of her bra. Melissa ran her fingers through my hair as I lowered my mouth to her stomach, but when I moved past her belly button, her entire body went stiff.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked as she took my face between her hands.
I smiled and she relaxed below me. I kissed the waistband of her boxer shorts, and when I looked up at her again, her face was a mixture of desire and insecurity.
“Is this okay?” I asked as I inched the underwear down a little more, and when she didn’t stop me, I continued my exploration. I’d never done this before, gone down on a woman. I’d messed around, but never this. The urge, the need to taste Melissa wasn’t something I could’ve prepared for. It was forceful and it drove the blood through my heart—turbulent and fast.
She raised her hips as I slipped the boxers down. The pads of my fingers only left the silk of her skin as I removed the underwear and pushed them to the side. My eyes lifted to hers, and I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was scared, but when my Adam’s apple bobbed, Melissa spoke. “We can stop.”
My hands shook as I slid them up her legs. Fear, adrenaline, basic human lust, had my fingers digging into her inner thighs as I spread them apart.
My gaze was locked on hers, my tone rough and raw as I said, “I couldn’t stop if I wanted to...”
I didn’t want to.
My nose skimmed the curve of her core, the short-trimmed hairs were softer than I would have imagined. My tongue took its first taste, and her feminine scent enveloped every sense. Her quiet gasp, that soft cry, it set every nerve ending I had on edge. I’d given myself over to the temptation of her. I’d tasted what had always been forbidden. When my lips sucked on the sweet flesh, I fell and was perfectly content to never surface again.
☆☆☆☆☆☆
MORE ABOUT POET
Melissa Trujillo knows suffering. She's tasted it, touched it, injected it. Sobriety is a gift, but it isn't enough to wash away her secrets.
Kieran O’Connell knows sacrifice. He's owned it, held it between his fingers, and felt it in his knees. Words are his freedom, and they've begun to fade.
Two different worlds, one moment and the Earth shifts—granting them a path.
His eyes meet hers. Her hand fits his.
Kieran finds his muse.
Melissa finds her new addiction.
When sin meets virtue, angels fall, and the truth, it becomes a blade. Together they’ll walk the sharp edge, but if her lies cut too deep, not even his words could save her… save them.
Melissa Trujillo knows suffering. She's tasted it, touched it, injected it. Sobriety is a gift, but it isn't enough to wash away her secrets.
Kieran O’Connell knows sacrifice. He's owned it, held it between his fingers, and felt it in his knees. Words are his freedom, and they've begun to fade.
Two different worlds, one moment and the Earth shifts—granting them a path.
His eyes meet hers. Her hand fits his.
Kieran finds his muse.
Melissa finds her new addiction.
When sin meets virtue, angels fall, and the truth, it becomes a blade. Together they’ll walk the sharp edge, but if her lies cut too deep, not even his words could save her… save them.
NOW ONLY $0.99 & FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
☆☆☆☆☆☆
Amanda Marie Johnson was born and raised in Valrico, Florida. She’s now surrounded by mountains with her husband and three children in Ogden, Utah. She attended Weber State University and graduated with her A.S.N. She is a full-time registered nurse. Reading and writing have always been something she is passionate about. She loves to write about the human experience, love and happily ever afters.
Follow her on Amazon HERE
Follow her on Amazon HERE
RSS Feed
