Her hands touched his chest; her fingertips tantalized, and caused delightful currents to course through him.
“Oh, my Geoffrey, to be in your arms is all I need.” Her voice softened to a seductive tone. “I adore your broad shoulders. You are indeed a statue to be replicated, except nothing could do your masculinity justice. I do not want to share you, just yet.”
“Minx, I am afraid there will be no sharing of either of us. I can be a green-eyed monster.”
“I can be a jealous witch.”
“That said, we start to build our future. Shall we proceed to our bed sport with the intent to start our family?” He laid her back deep into the soft mattress. “When we’ve finished, I will massage you. Would you like that?” Geoffrey coaxed.
“Yes, but first I want to feel the length of you inside me. I want to please you in every imaginable way. You are my world and always will be. I love you, Geoffrey. Our life together will be beautiful because we both have been tortured enough.”
He centered himself over her. “You saw my soul and you nurtured it. Let us have our wanton way with each other.”
“Take me, Geoffrey. Take me forever and ever.”
His decadent kiss claimed her lips and sent her senses reeling in anticipation of what it promised. His tongue found hers, hinting what he would soon do to her body. She gasped, and whispered his name again.
His mouth sealed her voice while his hand journeyed downward to her neck and lingered at the side of her throat, sending decadent ripples of desire through her core. Liquid pooled, no, flooded—slick, wet and impossible to contain. Her body ached. Her hands implored and explored the hard muscle of his massive back. Serena arched against his maleness, inviting him to seek the pleasure she offered. The urgent need begged for the true length of him to enter her moist sheath. Only then would the excruciating, wondrous pain of wanting within her be sated. She welcomed the surge of his thrusts, filling her with his seed—a promise of satisfaction taking them to the edge of infinity.
They lived in the moment of this extraordinary experience. To be intimate and feel the powerful emotion in this most personal of intimate acts, rewarded them with ultimate pleasure. Out of breath, he whispered, “I look forward to captivity.”
“Be careful what you wish for, my Duke.”
Time stood still as they returned to earth, still joined together in a heated embrace that cooled to contentment as their strength returned.
“You are a magnificent woman, my equal and so much more. I am the most fortunate of men. Your handcuffs are indeed golden. I submit.”
“I will be sure to remind you of your words when it is appropriate, my love.”
Geoffrey moved from her and their eyes held each other for what could have been an eternity.
Epilogue
Brighton, Three years later
Geoffrey and Serena sat in the dining room when their two-year-old son ran in, Nanny behind him. Serena’s eyes brightened at the sight of the dark-haired boy, and she lifted him to her lap.
“Papa.” His chubby finger pointed. “We tie?”
She gave him to Geoffrey, who always carried cord in his pockets, to show little Geoff another type of sailor knot. She watched them together and it always imbued her with a jolt of pride and love—precious moments.
The nanny sought to take the little boy who protested.
“Leave him a little while longer,” Geoffrey said. “I do not want to relinquish my time. However, dress him in warm clothing, and I will take him to the stables with me. I enjoy my moments with Geoff.”
He handed over the child, his mouth a pout, his eyes wet. “We will go see the horses, Geoff. You always like that. Go get your warm jacket.”
Geoff took his nanny’s hand. “Hurry.”
Geoffrey turned to his wife. “How are you feeling this morning, my dear?”
“Well-loved as usual, husband.” Her smile held a secret.
Serena went to him and sat in his lap, one leg slung over him, her backside wedged between his thighs, her arms around his neck. Her lips found his and teased. His response invited a prolonged tongue mating.
“Hmm. To what do I owe this pleasure? If you keep this up, we’ll never make it to the stables. What is it you want?”
“Geoffrey…” She raised one leg clad in calf tight boots. I will need new Hessians in a larger size.”
In her seductive ivory colored breeches, open white shirt and red scarf tied around her neck, having their baby made her more voluptuous than he ever could imagine. Her breasts swelled in the tight fitting shirt, her slim waist accentuated the curve of her hips. Her long legs encased within the taut fabric only added to her femininity. Everything about her allured.
“Why in a larger size?”
“My feet tend to swell when I am pregnant.”
“A baby? We are to have another child? What a dunce I am.” Geoffrey smothered her face with kisses. He held her gently and dislodged her from his lap. He placed Serena in her chair with great care and stared at her. “When?” His excitement was contagious.
“In six months, around Christmastime. Are you happy, Geoffrey?”
“Who could ask for a better present?” He gazed at his wife, his face aglow with adoration, “I would wish it to be a girl so you could have someone to fuss over, as I do with our son. I love you so much.”
She reached to touch his face.
He got to his knees and placed his head on her belly. “Sleep, my child. You are already well-loved.”
“Why do you look pensive?” Serena placed her hand over his.
“I have come to the realization you are the only woman who satisfies me all the time—in every way. I could not imagine a life without you.”
Her smile beamed. “We have earned our happiness, Geoffrey.”
A sudden rush of noise announced the arrival of Adonis as he skittered on the shiny marble floors and came to greet them. He went to Geoffrey first to paw at his boot. He looked at Serena and sat, waiting for her to pet him.
Little Geoff and Nanny returned.
“Go, Papa.” Geoff rubbed Adonis’s head.
“Serena, I have something to show you. Put on something warm and we all will go.” He winked at her.
She took her cape and placed it over her shoulders.
“Come, Adonis.” Geoffrey took his son’s hand and placed an arm around Serena’s shoulder.
Inside the stable, Geoffrey stopped. “Stay here,” he instructed Geoff and Serena.
He walked to a stall and brought out a beautiful bay pony, and shared the reins with his son. “Do you like him? He’s yours.”
“Yes, Papa. Ride with you and Mama now?”
“In due time, son.”
Serena embraced her husband, the reformed rake, who cherished his family above all. Could she have ever dreamed for more?
Author’s Notes
Extensive research helped create the story regarding the Forteresse de LeBran. It did not exist as a fortress. The author fabricated it on details of the real Henrican fort, later to be known as Southsea Castle on Portsea Island near Portsmouth on the southern coast.
The Sacred Order of Mortal Saints was also a product of my imagination based on the knowledge that such organizations did exist, as a precursor to England’s MI5 (Military Intelligence, Section 5). It is the British intelligence agency that works to protect the current United Kingdom’s domestic security against threats from terrorism. The Defence Ministry in the Regency era had many covert spy teams.
As for the laws of inheritance, I did take a writer’s license with the barrister being able to skirt the law so Serena could have an independent income if she needed it.
All other aspects are the result of my imagination.
It is my hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I delighted in writing it. Every woman should have a divinely decadent Duke in her life.
A word about the author…
Sandra Masters is a retired executive. She was the first female dire
ctor in 75 years for International Association of Clothing Designers, traveled worldwide to present at conferences and conventions (Italy, Canada, Japan, etc. A great venue for romance stories.) She was a Contributing Editor to Apparel World Magazine in NYC for the above group, and advertised for clients in Women’s Wear Daily in NYC. Ms. Masters lectured and conducted seminars to textile industry.
A long-standing member of Romance Writers of America, the Fresno Chapter of RWA, and the Yosemite Romance Writers, she is also a member of WOW Critique Group (Wild Outrageous Writers). Sandra has founded various writing groups over the years.
Please visit her at sandramastersauthor.com with any comments you may have. I would love to hear from you—email me at: [email protected].
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Once Upon a Duke Page 25