When The Rogue Met His Match by Alyssa Clarke

Author:Alyssa Clarke [Clarke, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Darkan Press Inc.
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

He is kissing me, Sarah thought faintly.

A sharp tremor went through her body, and she sagged against him. His lips were warm and firm, yet there was a softness to them. Sarah felt as if he were supporting her only with the warm clasp of his hands on her face. James licked at her mouth, and she parted her lips. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and she moaned. It felt wonderful. She put her hands on his shoulders and clung to him, her pulse pounding in her ears, her heart racing.

What was this heated sensation working its way through her body? Their kiss grew wilder, and she could tell her lips would appear red and swollen after.

He gripped the front of his shirt and wrenched it down. Oh, God! His palms molded themselves to the full mounds of her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers capturing her peaked nipples and rolling them through the thin material of his shirt. She cried out, and he swallowed it. Sarah felt lost in the searing pleasure swamping her senses.

James broke their kiss and brushed his mouth over the bridge of her nose and cheek with a tenderness that brought a lump to her throat.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

Still overwhelmed by the visceral pleasure wrought by a kiss, she nodded. When James made to walk away, she said, “I will be cold without you.”

The heat in his eyes made her feel a prickle of uncertainty, and not for the first time, she wondered what it would feel like to couple. James slipped into the bed, tugged her into his arms and wrapped the blanket over her. She contentedly listened to his heartbeat, wondering if she dared to share this scandalous encounter with dearest friends Ester and Cressida, they would believe her.

How much should she even reveal to her friends?

“I can feel the heat of your blush against my skin,” James said, his tone rich with humor. “Rakes and libertines do not blush after kissing.”

The wretch. She turned her face and placed her teeth over the spot she had bit. This time, she kissed it, smiling at the hitch in his breathing. “I am sorry for biting you, James.”

“Do not be. I liked it, so thank you for opening my horizon.”

Sarah could not win with this scoundrel.

“What new story are you working on?”

“You know about my stories?”

“I have read a few.”

She gasped. “Ester!”

James chuckled. “My sister sought my opinion about your stories a few times but besieged me not to tell you.”

Sarah realized then how much her friend had tried to encourage their attachment without being too obvious. Oh, Ester, thank you. “What did you think?”

“The story of Venerable Timothy Hodgkins was really good, but I was amazed at your capacity for bloodthirstiness.”

“It is a gothic tale of revenge; it must be bloodthirsty.”

“How many stories have you completed?”

“Eleven,” she said softly.

“That is impressive.”

The admiration warmed her chest.

“Have any publishers shown an interest.”

Sarah lifted her head from his chest and peered into his eyes. “A publisher?”

“Yes.”

“I …” a shocked sound burst from her.

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