Page 41 of Enslaved
The corners of her mouth lifted with feminine satisfaction. Once Kell had left the room, it had taken only a heartbeat before his hands were on her. Diana rolled onto her tummy, resting her weight on both elbows.
Marcus traced the curve of her back with his calloused hand until it rested lightly on her bottom.
“How wise Nola is,” she whispered.
“Nola?” he murmured thickly.
“She told me to dab perfume at the base of my spine. She said it wouldn’t be wasted.”
His fingers moved in small circles until he found the spot exactly. The scent of violets made his nostrils flare wide.
“The food cools,” she murmured. “My lust does not,” he said bluntly. “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can negotiate,” she reasoned.
Before he removed his hand from her bottom, he pressed down hard so that her pubis rubbed against the cushion. A frisson of her first sexual arousal spiraled between her legs.
Outside, the brilliant lightning flashed and was immediately followed by a crash of thunder that made the very roof shake.
Marcus moved to the serving table set between the two couches. He carved the haunch of roast boar, selected the most perfect artichokes, the tiniest green peas, the thinnest spears of asparagus, along with a pot of warm herbed olive oil, and placed it close by her hand.
Also on the table, Kell had set out salad greens with cresses, fine lettuce, and edible mallows. A huge platter of cheeses, olives, grapes, and nuts sat in the center of the serving table. Marcus moved a finger bowl and towel beside her before he reclined upon the opposite couch.
They lay facing, with their bodies curved toward each other. Small gold cushions were propped beneath their elbows. The storm within raged as wildly as the storm without.
Marcus had a man’s healthy appetite, doing justice to everything set before him, but if he hadn’t been informed that he was being served his favorite wild boar, he would have had no idea what he ate.
His dark eyes were on Diana throughout the meal, seeing the graceful movements of her hand, watching her delicately lick her fingers and sip her wine. He saw how the violet silk clung to the curve of her hip and molded the swell of her breasts. Above all else he thought about her maidenhead. If he hadn’t proved to himself that she was still intact, he would never have believed it. She was so seductively feminine and wise in the ways of women. She was ripe for lovemaking.
Diana dipped her fingers into the scented water and dried them on the towel.
“Have you finished?” he asked impatiently.
She picked up a ripe plum and bit into it lustily.
Marcus shifted on the couch to ease his arousal.
“Finished? I’ve only just begun,” she purred.
Marcus decided she had teased him long enough. “I am ready,” he stated emphatically.
“I won’t ask you to show me the proof of that. I’ll take your word for it.”
He was momentarily shocked at her erotic innuendo, then he threw back his head and laughed. The column of his neck was corded with muscle. A crack of thunder prevented him from hearing her swift intake of breath.
“So, I do amuse you. I almost despaired of making you laugh.”
He swung his legs to the floor.
“No!” she cried, putting out her hand. “I want the table between us until we have concluded our bargain.”
His black eyes glittered their challenge, but then he reclined back on his elbow, waiting, banking the fire in his blood.
When she licked the juice from her plum, Marcus closed his eyes and grit his teeth against the sudden pulsing of his phallus.
She began quietly. “You want me to acknowledge that I am your slave. You want me to obey you implicitly. You want me to yield to you willingly. You want me to gift you with my virginity.”
An eerie silence filled the chamber. Marcus could hear his own heartbeat as he waited for her answer.
“I am ready to acknowledge that I am your slave. I will obey you implicitly. I will yield to your orders willingly,but…” Diana paused for emphasis and Marcus held his breath. She continued,“Butonly in front of others. When we are alone, you will treat me as a lady, not a slave.”
