At the Duke's Service

By: Carole Mortimer

Clothes were discarded. Murmurs and ecstatic sighs followed. A gasp as Alexander thrust into Angel to claim her. A soft and muffled scream minutes later as Angel’s pleasure reached its satisfying peak. Quickly followed by Alexander’s own achingly ecstatic groans as those inner quakes and spasms caused him to spill himself deep inside her.

“I believe Hawk to be a fitting name for our first son,” Angel murmured sometime later as she lay still naked and deeply sated in Alexander’s arms. “In order that my own name is not lost completely.”

“Whatever you wish, my darl—First son?” Alexander echoed as he sat up slightly in order that he might look down at her. “How many sons are you planning on giving me?” he prompted indulgently, knowing that he could deny this woman nothing. That she did, indeed, hold the whole of his heart in her tiny hands.

“Oh, at least two, possibly three,” his Angel assured him lightly.

“As long as we also have a daughter, or two, with your beauty, golden curls and determined nature,” Alexander murmured with satisfaction. “Although I think I would prefer that they not attend Miss Bristow’s school in Brighton!” he added dryly.

“I have so far heard no complaints from you concerning my own tutelage,” Angelina teased huskily.

“And neither will you,” Alexander assured warmly. “In fact, I am already looking forward to sharing the revelations of your next lesson!”

Angelina laughed softly. “We have only just begun, my darling,” she promised warmly.

Alexander gazed down at her adoringly, utterly sure of his love for this warm and wonderful woman. Knowing that, with her, each day together would be a joy, each night a revelation, to be savored and cherished for as long as the two of them lived.…

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