At the Duke's Service

By: Carole Mortimer


Until the advent of Angelina into his life, Alexander had always prided himself on his self-control, but he would have to be made of marble to be able to withstand the invitation Angelina’s seminakedness now represented.

“The door, Xander,” she reminded as she reached up to take the pins from her hair. The riotous golden curls fell down to her waist before she slipped the thin straps of her chemise down her arms to bare her lovely breasts and curvaceous hips, as she now wore only those tantalising white stockings held up with garters of blue ribbon the exact color of her eyes.

The darkness of Alexander’s gaze remained transfixed on all that wanton loveliness even as he moved to the door to turn the key in the lock.





Chapter Six




The turning of that lock brought Alexander momentarily to his senses and he gave a shake of his head in an effort to clear it of its riotous longings. “Angelina, we cannot…”

“We will not complete the act tonight, if you prefer that we not do so, Xander. It will be enough for now if we give each other pleasure,” she promised huskily.

“What—” His second protest ended abruptly as Angelina moved across the distance that separated them to stand in front of him, the warmth of her nakedness, pressed against him from breast to thigh, becoming his complete undoing as he pulled her into him roughly and his lips once again laid siege to hers.

Even as his kisses deepened, his breathing becoming ragged, Angelina reached up to pull his jacket down his arms and loosen the necktie at his throat, before unfastening the top of his shirt and unbuttoning his waistcoat. She then slide it down his arms before pulling his shirt from his breeches and sliding her hands underneath the material so that she might touch the hot, bare flesh of his back and chest.

Alexander groaned low in his throat as Angelina began to move her hands across that muscled heat, the groan turning to a growl as she ran her nails over the hard pebbles of his nipples nestled amongst the darkness of the hair on his chest. She moved her hands lower still as she followed the path of that soft, downy hair to the waistband of his breeches, caressing the hardness there that throbbed and strained against the tightly stretched material.

Alexander wrenched his mouth from hers. “Angel…!”

His first use of the name she preferred made her bolder still as she released the buttons of his breeches to allow all the pulsing hardness to surge powerfully free, and her fingers curled about him.

“Angel—”

“Sit, Xander.” Angelina stepped back to urge him in the direction of one of the dining room chairs, before dropping down onto her knees in front of him.

“Angel, I cannot allow you to—Oh, my God…!” Alexander’s cry was one of pure ecstasy as he felt the heat of her mouth on him, his fingers clenching the arms of the chair as her tongue circled the tip of his erection.

Alexander’s head fell back, his knuckles white as he continued to clutch the arms of the chair, teeth gritted, jaw rigid, as Angelina began to suck.

It was all Alexander could do to keep himself from instantly giving in to his release. Instead, he suffered the agonies of hell for long, timeless minutes as Angelina continued to alternately lick and suck as her hands caressed him.

How he needed…wanted—“Take all of me, Angel! He groaned as he reached down to thread his hands fiercely into her golden curls that draped so erotically across his hips and thighs. As she took the full length of him into the heat of her mouth he began to thrust his hips until he felt his climax surging in an agony of pleasure such as Alexander had never experienced before.

Angelina instantly drew back, having been told the exact moment to cease the ministrations of her lips and tongue. Knowing that a man took time to recover from climax, if she paused now she would be able to reinvigorate him, to bring him to that peak again and again.

“Don’t stop, Angel…!” Alexander murmured achingly.

Angelina kissed down his still-pulsing length, enjoying Alexander’s groans of pleasure and renewed hardness as her fingers encircled him, and she began to rub rhythmically up and down until she gave him the pleasure he so sought.

Dear God, how she had pleasured him, Alexander thought as he felt the ache in every part of his body from the fierceness of his release.

A release that Angel had still to attain herself.

Alexander pulled her up so that she now stood between his parted thighs, his eyes dark as he gazed upon the firm thrust of her breasts. “I believe it is now my turn to pleasure you, Angel,” he drawled in anticipation.

“Yes, please, Xander,” she accepted almost shyly.

Alexander’s gaze held hers as he moved his mouth onto one bared breast, Angel’s hands clinging to the broadness of his shoulders as his tongue stroked across her hardened nipple. One of his hands moved down below the gentle slope of her waist in search of the nub nestled in the softness of her curls and, upon finding it, caressed her rhythmically until she moaned and writhed beneath him.

Angelina’s breathing became ragged and uneven, and she parted her legs to give him greater access, allowing him to slide one finger inside her, and then two, as he thrust into her rhythmically, all the while the soft pad of his thumb caressing the hardened, pulsing nub above until she collapsed weakly against him.

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