Page 76 of Enslaved
“Have the gods gifted me with a water sprite?”
“I’ve seen so little of you these last two days, I thought I’d act as your bath slave tonight.” Her words were seductive as her beautiful body, as she floated naked in the pale green water.
He grinned down at her. “You’ll soon see more than you bargained for,” he promised, growing enormous with anticipation.
“No! Don’t undress, master, let me do that.”
She came out of the water to stand before him and unbuckle his breastplate. She stood much closer than was necessary. A bemused Marcus murmured, “You always refused to serve as my slave, yet now that I have freed you, it amuses you to play slave girl!”
“Amuses me and arouses me, master,” she said, running her hands over the great slabs of muscle in his bare chest. He removed his cuirass of leather strips himself, leaving her to strip him of his linen undergarment. When she did so, she jumped back in pretended alarm as his swollen phallus sprang free of the garment. “I am an ignorant bath slave, master, instruct me in my duties.”
“Minister to my needs,” he ordered huskily.
“How?” she asked innocently.
“Touch me,” he commanded.
“Like this?” Diana slipped her hand between his powerful legs and allowed the tips of her fingers to trail up the inside of his thigh. His shaft stood up rigid at her touch. “And like this, master?” She cupped his heavy sac in the palm of her hand, moving it up and down with a slow rhythm. Then her fingers squeezed on him until she discerned the two spheres within the sac, and she rolled them one against the other.
He moaned with the sweet, heavy ache her manipulations provoked. With her other hand she placed one finger on the underside of his cock at the base and slowly traced its full length. His foreskin stretched, allowing him to lengthen another inch until the head was fully exposed and straining to lengthen further. When it could not, it began to pulse and swell until it was a bloodproud shade of vermilion.
“’Tis a formidable weapon, like a great gladius sword. What shall I do with it, master?”
“Sheath it!” he ordered, his voice thick with desire. His hands cupped her bottom cheeks to pull her to him, but she slipped from his grasp in mock outrage. With her hands on her hips, she demanded, “Is this what your bath slaves do for you? You need a damned cold plunge!”
She slid into the water and in a flash he followed her, and caught her. From behind, his arms encircled her and he pulled her back against him so that his hard length rested in her woman’s cleft. She wanted to torment him further by rubbing herself back and forth upon him, but to her dismay she realized she was suspended on him and her feet could not touch bottom.
She smiled a secret smile, refusing to be thwarted. He was so long, the tip of his phallus protruded from the golden curls of her mons. With a deliberate finger, she encircled the swollen tip over and over until he thought he would go mad. Marcus grit his teeth against the erotic sensations.
“Two can play this game, little cocktease.” He held her immobile with one arm about her waist and unerringly placed his finger on her sensitive woman’s bud, directly above the tip of his cock. What he did with his finger made her squirm, then wriggle, then arch in frenzied arousal. He stopped abruptly and she cried out in protest.
“Finish me,” she gasped.
With his mouth against her ear, he ground out, “My will prevails. I will finish you when I am ready.” He hoisted her from the water, then with powerful arms elevated himself from the bath. He swept up a big towel and a flacon of oil, fully prepared to chase her down. But Diana did not run. She came against him and rubbed her soft body against his hardness. “Selfish brute,” she whispered playfully.
“Not selfish, beloved. I’ll be more generous than I’ve ever been in my life. I’ll give, and keep on giving until you can’t take any more.”
He swooped her up into his arms and carried her upstairs to their sleeping chamber. Then he spread the towel before the fire and pulled her down to him. He poured the almond oil into his palms, warmed it at the fire, then began to massage her with long, powerful strokes.
“Your skin is so fair and so smooth, I hope the bitter winds of the sea don’t roughen it.”
Diana stretched like a feline who was being stroked. “You can do this every night to prevent it,” she purred.
He laughed at her naivete. “A ship isn’t conducive to long, playful sessions of lovemaking. A quick in and out against a cabin wall perhaps.”
“Mmm … that, too, might be interesting.”
“Enough to warm the blood perhaps, until we sail into the Mare internum where the glorious sun shines every day.”
“We call it the Mediterranean,” she murmured, barely able to carry on a conversation when she would rather give herself up to blissful arousal.
“Means exactly the same thing: inland sea,” he said, dipping the fleshy pads of his blunt fingertips into her cleft. He traced over each pink fold as if they were the petals of a flower. The fragrance of almonds was heady as the heat of the fire made the oil release its scent. She was gasping now, trying not to beg as her senses all became heightened.
“Why did you choose almond?”
“Because I love the flavor,” he said huskily, bending over to lick each nipple, then covering them with his mouth to feel them spike into sharp little spears. His tongue licked a burning wet path from her breasts, across her belly, and down to her high mons. Diana dug her nails into the palms of her hands to prevent her from screaming as his wicked tongue licked the almond from every petal of her flower.
“Marc … Marc … Marcus.” His name was a supplication, and as much for his sake as hers, he thrust his tongue deep, unable to deny himself another moment. He plunged and curled, plunged and curled, stroking her bud until it swelled to the bursting point.
