His Lordship’s Return | Samantha SoRelle
His Lordship’s Mysteries #3
Release Date: August 23rd, 2022
Amazon US | Amazon UK
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For Dominick and Alfie, it feels like they’ve only just settled into life at Balcarres House when an urgent letter from an old friend has them racing back to London. However, they’re not returning to Alfie’s swirling ton of money and nobility, but to the dark underside of the city that Dominick knows all too well.
In a desperate race against time, they’ll have to walk streets that Alfie barely remembers and Dominick hoped to forget. Their return brings up terrors better left in the past and for one of them, the strain may be too much to bear.
Under the shadow of the workhouse, they’ll have to act quickly to stop a killer or the lives lost may be their own.
His Lordship’s Return is the third novel in the His Lordship’s Mysteries series.
Book One: His Lordship’s Secret
Book Two: His Lordship’s Master
At first, Alfie didn’t know what had awoken him. It might have been the chill in Dominick’s room as the last embers burned low in the grate. Or it might have been the lightening of the sky outside the curtains, the sun rising over the distant Scottish coast in a mottled grey that might promise a day of fog, rain, brilliantly clear skies, or a bit of each in turn. Or it might have been the wound in his leg, long since scarred over, but still twinging with pain when he least suspected it.
Most likely, however, it was the mouth around his cock.
“M’Nick?” he murmured groggily, trying to see anything in the pre-dawn light.
He received an affirmative hum in answer that sent shivers running through him. He threw his head back against the pillows as Dominick’s tongue laved against the underside of his cock, tracing the vein there.
Alfie wasn’t even fully hard yet, barely awake and unaware which way was up or down. He gripped the sheets, digging into the mattress as the rich fabric twisted between his fingers.
“Ah, ah, a moment! Give me a moment!” he gasped.
Dominick exhaled heavily through his nose in either a laugh or a sigh. The hot gust of breath against Alfie’s groin had the opposite of a calming effect. Dominick pulled back tortuously slowly, keeping up a light suction all the while, until Alfie nearly ordered him to get back to it just to stop the maddening contradiction of sensations.
Before he could gather the words to say anything, Dominick released him with a wet pop. Alfie breathed a sigh of relief, only to gasp again when he felt the press of lips against his leg, a series of kisses dappled across the sensitive skin one by one. Then that sinful tongue began to trace shapes against his inner thigh. D…o…m…
Finally untangling his hands from the sheets, Alfie lifted the covers. Dominick looked up at him like an animal exposed in its den. Blinking, he pressed a kiss to Alfie’s leg, dotting the “i”.
“Good morning,” Dominick said, his voice deliciously rough. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did until someone rudely awoke me.”
“Rude, was it? Bold words from a man completely at my mercy.”
Alfie didn’t even try to pretend those words didn’t flare something deep inside of him. Still, it wasn’t good to let Dominick have his way too easily. He was cocky enough already, no reason to add fuel to the fire.
“At your mercy, am I?” Alfie countered, letting the covers fall around Dominick’s shoulders. It took most of his composure to affect a sceptical air as he reclined back decadently. “From my vantage point, things look rather different.”
“Oh, really?” Dominick flexed his fingers. It was only then that Alfie realised Dominick’s arms were wound under and around him, his fingers digging into the tops of Alfie’s buttocks. Coiled around him like that, Dominick had him firmly ensnared and they both knew it. Still, Alfie couldn’t help but notice that he was being careful not to rest any of his weight on Alfie’s injured leg.
“Really. To me it looks like you’re exactly where you belong.” The realisation gave more fondness to Alfie’s tone than he intended. He waved a hand loftily. “Now that I’m awake enough to enjoy it, feel free to return to sucking me off at your leisure.”
About The Author
Samantha SoRelle grew up all over the world and finally settled in Southern California when she soaked up too much sunshine and got too lazy to move.
When she’s not writing, she’s doing everything possible to keep from writing. This has led to some unusual pastimes including but not limited to: perfecting fake blood recipes, designing her own cross-stitch patterns, and wrapping presents for tigers .
She also enjoys collecting paintings of tall ships and has lost count of the number of succulents she owns.