shoulder.
“My father—”
“Knows not where you are.” He gently cupped her chin and turned her back to face him.
“My brothers….” She licked her lips and stared into his eyes: predatory, hungry.
He leaned in and whispered, “…will never know.” Teeth nipped her earlobe. “Our secret.” His hand moved higher and slid between her thighs, slipping on either side of her sensitive nub. Jocasta turned in toward his mouth.
“If they discover….”
He kissed her silent and then pulled back to stare. His breath washed over her, spicy, dangerous. “They won’t.” He lowered his mouth again, drawing his tongue along the dip in her bottom lip, until he coaxed her submission. His fingers caressed her, rubbing, stroking, bringing her closer and closer to forgetting who she was.
A mistake. She’d never see him again. But this once…this once she wanted to feel love, possession of her body and soul. Just once, she needed to feel. “Here. Now,” she whispered.
“Yes. Here. Now. I can’t wait another moment. You make me hurt.”
She knew that feeling. Jocasta whimpered. Inside her belly, a ball of heat formed, swelling with each brush of his fingers. Around and around, he drew a slow circle. Desire tormented her. She couldn’t keep him. They would only have this once.
Here.
Now.
Her body vibrated from the point of contact to the tips of her fingers and toes, increasing the ache in her pelvis. The need coiled tighter.
“You want me.”
She sucked in a breath. “We shouldn’t.” No, her father would have him killed.
He applied pressure. Jocasta bucked against him, wanting more, needing more.
“I’m not a common soldier. I’m a Centurion. I can take care of you.”
“And I’m a senator’s daughter. My father will not agree to this relationship. I’m to be traded to the highest bidder, one of those who would make him a profitable association.”
“Do you feel it?” His fingers slipped inside her, twisting and stretching. He refused to listen. Jocasta moaned and rocked against him. “The heat between us burns me,” he growled.
In and out his digits moved. The heat increased until she thought for certes she would go up in flames.
“Augustus.” She moved against his fingers, needing to get closer. Most would call her insane for engaging with a stranger, but she could do nothing else. Her father be damned, she wanted him. Jocasta lifted her leg, bringing it up to his hip, where he captured it, holding it in place.
“Release yourself to me.” His fingers worked faster, rubbing, stroking, striking a spot deep inside that wound her to breaking and left her breathless.
“Augustus!” She grasped his shoulders and pushed her hips into him, moving with him, riding his fingers. Her muscles clenched around him, sending pleasure surging through her. He spread his fingers and stroked deeper. She cried out and arched into them. He leaned in, capturing her mouth, silencing the whimpering that would draw attention.
“I need inside you.” He yanked his tunic up and rubbed the head of his cock at the place where his fingers had worked her into a slick frenzy. She lifted her hips, rising onto her toes, pushing into him. He grabbed her buttocks and thrust in, sinking to his balls, working in and out, harder and faster, over and over, and the world around them disappeared. Gone was the merriment and laughter in the streets, all faded, leaving two bodies twined in a rhythmic dance.
“I feel it. I’m on fire.”
“Burn for me.”
“So hot.” Her body ignited. Jocelyn moaned. “Yes,” she mumbled. Something tugged at her, pulling her from the luscious dream, out of the heat and into an icy room.
A sharp pain ricocheted inside her skull and a noxious smell permeated the air. She knew that odor. A smell, not the spice and lust of her dream lover but of something sinister that twisted her insides. A combination of a cinnamon-scented sanitizer and the sour stench of illness and plastic sheets.
“My father—”
“Knows not where you are.” He gently cupped her chin and turned her back to face him.
“My brothers….” She licked her lips and stared into his eyes: predatory, hungry.
He leaned in and whispered, “…will never know.” Teeth nipped her earlobe. “Our secret.” His hand moved higher and slid between her thighs, slipping on either side of her sensitive nub. Jocasta turned in toward his mouth.
“If they discover….”
He kissed her silent and then pulled back to stare. His breath washed over her, spicy, dangerous. “They won’t.” He lowered his mouth again, drawing his tongue along the dip in her bottom lip, until he coaxed her submission. His fingers caressed her, rubbing, stroking, bringing her closer and closer to forgetting who she was.
A mistake. She’d never see him again. But this once…this once she wanted to feel love, possession of her body and soul. Just once, she needed to feel. “Here. Now,” she whispered.
“Yes. Here. Now. I can’t wait another moment. You make me hurt.”
She knew that feeling. Jocasta whimpered. Inside her belly, a ball of heat formed, swelling with each brush of his fingers. Around and around, he drew a slow circle. Desire tormented her. She couldn’t keep him. They would only have this once.
Here.
Now.
Her body vibrated from the point of contact to the tips of her fingers and toes, increasing the ache in her pelvis. The need coiled tighter.
“You want me.”
She sucked in a breath. “We shouldn’t.” No, her father would have him killed.
He applied pressure. Jocasta bucked against him, wanting more, needing more.
“I’m not a common soldier. I’m a Centurion. I can take care of you.”
“And I’m a senator’s daughter. My father will not agree to this relationship. I’m to be traded to the highest bidder, one of those who would make him a profitable association.”
“Do you feel it?” His fingers slipped inside her, twisting and stretching. He refused to listen. Jocasta moaned and rocked against him. “The heat between us burns me,” he growled.
In and out his digits moved. The heat increased until she thought for certes she would go up in flames.
“Augustus.” She moved against his fingers, needing to get closer. Most would call her insane for engaging with a stranger, but she could do nothing else. Her father be damned, she wanted him. Jocasta lifted her leg, bringing it up to his hip, where he captured it, holding it in place.
“Release yourself to me.” His fingers worked faster, rubbing, stroking, striking a spot deep inside that wound her to breaking and left her breathless.
“Augustus!” She grasped his shoulders and pushed her hips into him, moving with him, riding his fingers. Her muscles clenched around him, sending pleasure surging through her. He spread his fingers and stroked deeper. She cried out and arched into them. He leaned in, capturing her mouth, silencing the whimpering that would draw attention.
“I need inside you.” He yanked his tunic up and rubbed the head of his cock at the place where his fingers had worked her into a slick frenzy. She lifted her hips, rising onto her toes, pushing into him. He grabbed her buttocks and thrust in, sinking to his balls, working in and out, harder and faster, over and over, and the world around them disappeared. Gone was the merriment and laughter in the streets, all faded, leaving two bodies twined in a rhythmic dance.
“I feel it. I’m on fire.”
“Burn for me.”
“So hot.” Her body ignited. Jocelyn moaned. “Yes,” she mumbled. Something tugged at her, pulling her from the luscious dream, out of the heat and into an icy room.
A sharp pain ricocheted inside her skull and a noxious smell permeated the air. She knew that odor. A smell, not the spice and lust of her dream lover but of something sinister that twisted her insides. A combination of a cinnamon-scented sanitizer and the sour stench of illness and plastic sheets.
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