A Rivalry of Hearts (Fae Flings and Corset Strings, #1)

by Tessonja Odette

I’m about to face him again, to thank him—whether for the orgasm or for tying my bow, I know not—when he clasps me around my waist and pulls my backside against him.

He hugs one arm over my middle, while the other slides under the front of my bodice to cup my breast. He brings his mouth to my neck, lightly grazing it with his teeth.

A thrill moves through me at the heated one-sided embrace, and it only grows when I feel the hard length of him pressed into me, straining against his trousers. “Please use me s...

William’s hand grazes my back in a comforting gesture, along with a smile. One that holds sweetness and secrets and the promise of more to come. Another night. I return the grin, and he gives me one last lingering look before he saunters away, loosening his cravat.

That was…incredible. I’ve never experienced such full-body immersion with a lover before. Such euphoria. Such need. I want more, and not just the pleasure. I want to exchange more secrets too.

I want to learn more about him and tell him more about me. I want to hear him tell me I’m beautiful and rage at those who’ve slighted me.

Monty sprawls crookedly in one of the wingback chairs while Daphne stands frozen on all fours upon his chest, her curved back arched even higher than it usually is.

With another yelp, she leaps off his chest onto the floor. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

With a yawn, he says, “What were you thinking it looks like, Daph?” She skitters back a few steps. Her normally even voice is pitched high. “We slept together!”

“You fell asleep on my chest. That’s not the same thing as sleeping together.” “We spent the night on the same piece of furniture with our bodies touching,” she says. “This is humiliating.”

“You do know how sleeping together in the carnal sense works, right?” “Of course I know how it works. I’m centuries older than you. I’ve been through more mating seasons than you’ve been alive.”

“I’m not talking about unseelie mating,” Monty says. “I’m talking about sex.” “I know about seelie sex,” Daphne hisses back. “I read books.”

He levels a wry look at her. “Well, you must also know I have a type. Four legs and furry isn’t it.”

Daphne gasps, visibly shrinking back as if his words struck her like a blow. When she speaks next, her voice is small, quavering. “I’...

I halt in place. The hurt in her tone is so palpable it m...

This isn’t about Daphne misunderstanding sex. It’s that she sees Monty as more than her colleague. More than just another human. She sees him as a man. She’s aware of him in the way I’m aware of William.

Meanwhile, Monty only sees her as a pine marten. He dismissed her as not his type without considering he only knows one side of her. Her unseelie side.

A long stretch of silence follows. Finally, Daphne bites out, “You’re an ass.” She scampers away and out of sight faster than I can react.

The mere sight of those lips reminds me of how they felt on my skin, and how his fingers felt inside me. The way he pulled me against him and whispered those words in my ear.

Over and over I remind myself that I can’t assign any meaning to this fluttery, melty feeling. Try telling that to my heart.

We regret to inform you that Bullard and Sons has decided to terminate your contract on all previously published works and will not accept any new manuscript submissions henceforth. Your works are now out of print and surplus stock will be destroyed.

Yikes

Once I saw how many of my readers had purchased my imported titles from Bretton, I figured my popularity here could only benefit my publisher there. But I gave him too much credit.