Page 54 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

“This makes me hungry,” I say sweetly. “There’s one particular taste I’ve been in the mood for. Been wanting it for weeks now.”

“Roast pig?” He asks brightly as he nods toward the suckling pig in the center of the picture.

“No.”

“Tiramisu? You enjoyed it for dessert.”

“No. For my second dessert, I was thinking of something warm… a bit of sweet, a bit of savory. Served fresh. Piping hot.”

I don’t look him in the face, preferring to step back far enough to watch his huge cock twitch under the slacks he bought earlier today.

“That’s enough,” he says through gritted teeth as he lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder like a caveman.

“Stop!” I whisper. This place is so full of marble, every step, much less every word, echoes from one end of the hallway to the other.

“I watched earlier. I know which button to hit.” He strides from the deserted hallway to the lobby, which now has a party of late arrivals gathered around the desk.

I’m mortified, so it’s a good thing my face is basically pressed against the finest ass in Italy—past or present.

The elevator dings. He strides into it, and his chuckles make his whole body—and me—heave with his happiness.

“You’re an ass!”

“You’re a delight.”

“You’re a sadist and in case that doesn’t translate, it means you’re mean.”

“And you’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever known.”

“You’re full of yourself and in casethatdoesn’t translate, it means you think too highly of yourself.”

“But I think very highly of you, Skye.”

With that, the doors open and he carries me down the hall with such a sense of purpose, I imagine no one could stop us if they tried.

My two-thousand-year-old man manages the key card just fine, but even when we’re in our room, he doesn’t release me.

“You want down?” He’s so damn calm I want to wipe what I know has to be a smirk off his face, although I’m still ass over teakettle on his shoulder.

“Yes! Down!”

“For a kiss.”

I consider fighting, being like one of those women in the forties movies who pummels the man in this situation. But damn it. I want his kiss. I crave everything those sensual touches in the lobby promised.

“Okay. Just a little peck, though.”

He laughs. God, I love this side of him. I’ve never met it before. It’s fun and sexy and tells me he’s not the man I met over a month ago. We joked about the arena a few moments ago and he didn’t bat an eye.

He slides me down the length of his body, my nipples brushing every sculpted inch of his chest in a tantalizing glide. By the time my feet hit the floor, he’s not laughing anymore. His gaze is riveted on my lips.

“By Jupiter, you’re the most amazing thing on this planet, my Skye.”

He lifts me again, but this time it’s so my lips are at the same level as his. When his mouth descends on mine, the kiss is soft and sweet. The long kiss ends in a flurry of quick ones. Then he peppers kisses all over my face, as if he’d vowed to kiss every inch of me.

“Is this the little peck you wanted?”

His voice is like soft velvet and I’m overcome with so many emotions I don’t know what they are.

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