The Rogue's Fortune

She moaned.

Her thighs parted, hips lifted and she found him hard and ready to drive her straight to the stars once more. An hour ago they’d come together in a frantic frenzy. Hands

tearing at clothes, mouths fastened to each other as they’d circled and sidestepped the twelve-foot span from her front door to her bed.

It wasn’t until he’d collapsed on her, chest heaving, that she’d thought to wonder if one of them had remembered to shut her front door. The thought of what a passing neighbor might have witnessed roused a giggle.

“Usually when a man is making love to you,” Roark groused, his long fingers enclosing her breast. “It’s polite not to laugh at him.”

She opened her eyes and caught him scowling at her. “I was just…oh.” He’d sucked her nipple into his mouth and the wet suction blazed a trail of sensation straight down. The place between her thighs grew heavy with anticipation. She smiled beneath its weight.

It was easy to surrender to the moment with Roark kissing his way down her body. Later, she could fuss about the consequences of her actions tonight. Repeating that she had no intention of letting the lines blur between their fake public relationship and all too real private one made little sense anymore.

She might just have to accept that she was hopelessly infatuated with Roark and maybe even on the verge of falling in love. If she simply enjoyed their time together without dwelling on the reality that he would soon no longer need her, the next few months would be a lot more fun.

And the heartache that followed?

She’d survive. After all, she had lots of practice.

“You’re still not paying attention to me.” His tongue dipped into her navel and provoked a shiver. “I’ll just have to do better.”

Before she grasped his intent, he’d slipped lower on the mattress, his broad shoulders nudging between her thighs. When his mouth settled on her, Elizabeth cried out. The pleasure was so intense she stopped breathing.

Gathering handfuls of the sheets, she held on for dear life as Roark’s clever tongue propelled her into a sensual storm. Her lungs seized. Her stomach clenched. The pressure built. Roark’s fingers bit hard into her butt, holding her still as her hips began to writhe. And then she was flying, soaring upward like a roman candle. Exploding in the clean, cold air high above. Fragmenting into a million pieces that drifted back to earth on a peaceful, gentle breeze that cradled her.

“What was that?” she croaked, her throat raw from panting and screaming.

“That is what I’m going to do to you every time you aren’t paying attention to me.”

“I’ll make sure I neglect you at least once a day.”

Roark kissed his way back up her body. When he reached her mouth, he settled his lips over hers in a deep, penetrating kiss. As his tongue tangled with hers, he slipped inside her and groaned as his hips collided with hers.

“That feels amazing.” He laced his fingers with hers and held perfectly still for a long moment.

Elizabeth set her feet on the mattress and shifted the angle of her hips to take him deeper. Roark obliged and then began a slow retreat. The friction revived her hunger for him and she began to move in time with his thrusts.

In the hours following the first time they’d made love, she told herself that sex with Roark had been so perfect because she’d been clear-headed when she’d made the decision to make love with him. She hadn’t been seduced into it by smooth talk or her own insecurities.

But now she understood that what happened between them had a magical quality she’d never known before. It was as if they enjoyed perfect synchronicity. One body. One mind. One soul. She knew what he wanted without being told. He anticipated her needs as if he read her thoughts.

It might have terrified her if another orgasm wasn’t approaching at the speed of light. Elizabeth dug her nails into his back and shuddered beneath the force of yet another massive climax.

“You okay?”

That he held off his own finish to worry about her made Elizabeth smile. “Perfect.”

His face contorted with concentration as he pumped furiously and began to shudder with his release. She held tight while he spilled himself inside her, thrilled by the power of his orgasm.

In the aftermath, he snuggled his face into her neck and became a boneless heap. His absolute relaxation was at odds with the energy buzzing through her veins. Normally when she felt like this she cleaned her tiny studio, rearranged her closets or revisited her itinerary for the upcoming week.

Her muscles relaxed as Roark’s arm settled across her midsection.

“Can I spend the night?”

She hadn’t expected his request. Didn’t know how to answer. And every second she hesitated, he shifted a little closer to unconsciousness. His breathing settled into a sleepy rhythm.

Elizabeth’s gaze traced her ceiling. Contentment settled over her body, but her mind was a jumble of fragmented thoughts. Had her heart fallen into a familiar pattern? Was she closing her eyes to why she and Roark didn’t work in order to savor how much she enjoyed being with him?