I came to the keep to seal the alliance with my body. Thane needs an heir to save his clan. The pact requires my submission each time duty calls.
Every council over the maps ends with his quiet command. I present myself for the breeding. He claims me across the table. The acts grow longer with each passing night.
What began as the need for an heir has become something else. The hunger pulls at me even when no order comes. Each claim leaves me wanting the next one more. The alliance depends on this pact. The heat threatens what little control we have left. I could walk away before the midsummer deadline. I never do.
Scorching 16th century Highland breeding erotica featuring ordered submission and a dominant chieftain claiming his bride. For readers who crave breeding under command and the women who yield to it.
