I signed the contract for security, the one thing nobody gave me when I was small.
A Duke needs an heir. I need a roof that will still stand in ten years.

Frederick speaks of claiming me from behind an oak desk, in his voice for tenancies.
Last night he came around to my side of it.
Stand up, he said. Then he told me what to do next and did not repeat any of it.
He bared me in that study and used me over the arm of the chair until nothing formal was left of it.
I lay awake until four.

That is the shame of it. Not the desk. That my defiance goes out of me before I can hold it.
He says my name in that study and I am already answering to it.

He has told me how the rest runs. Presented when he sends for me. Bared on his order. Taken in that study as often as it takes, until the succession is secure and I am carrying.
The contract is signed, the security is real, and I count the days of the month now.
If either of us names what this turned into, we both lose what we came for.
Do I let him past the terms? Do I take the roof and keep that door shut?

A full-length Regency contracted breeding and submission erotic novel featuring a woman under contract and the Duke who needs an heir.