"He was called to the palace, mistress," Quinn replied. "I have missed you."
"Bold creature!" she scolded him, looking down at the big hands holding the leather tawse. "How do you know where he has gone? The tribune cannot bear the sight of you, so why would he inform you of his whereabouts?" She did not take the tawse up.
"One of the other slaves tells me where the master is at all times so I will not offend him even by accident," Quinn answered her. "If I have displeased you, mistress, then you must punish me." He looked up at her hopefully.
"No," she said. "I am not in the mood to punish you now. How long has my husband been gone?"
"Less than half an hour, and it takes that long to get through the midday streets to the palace, mistress," he said slyly. "He will undoubtedly be kept waiting by Caesar for some time. Perhaps the rest of the day. And then he must make his way home again. You may not see the master until midnight, mistress, or even tomorrow." Reaching out, he slipped his hand beneath the hem of her tunic and up her leg.
Ashley looked down at him thoughtfully. If what he said was true, then it would be some time until she saw the tribune. Fingers caressed the soft flesh of her inner thigh. They slid through her nether lips, seeking her clit. "You are a bad slave, Quinn," she told him as he began to tease at the sensitive little nub. "Ummm, yes, that is nice."
"I but live to serve you, mistress," Quinn answered her.
She pulled her tunic up over her head and off, tossing it aside. "Lick me, you bad creature," she ordered him.
He parted the lips of her labia with his two thumbs, holding them wide. Then his tongue began to draw over her flesh, first up one side, and then down, repeating the action on the other side of her nether lips. The tip of his tongue delved about her clit, probing, teasing at it, until it began to swell with her arousal. The sounds coming from her told him he was succeeding in pleasuring her. Leaning as close as he might get to her, her scent filling his nostrils and exciting him, he took her clit into his mouth and sucked hard upon it. She screamed softly, squirming. He sucked harder, two of his long fingers now pushing into her vagina. Two strokes, and she climaxed.
Without asking her permission he pulled her down to the floor with his big hands. Spreading her wide, he mounted the woman beneath him and thrust his engorged penis into the hot swamp of her fevered sex. Her nails raked his long back, and she scolded him for his boldness, all the while exhorting him to fuck her hard and deep. "I live to serve you, mistress," he repeated, his long, thick rod flashing back and forth with increasing rapidity while she thrashed beneath him in a frenzy of lust. And then she came. Her juices flowed copiously as he spasmed within her.
"Get off of me, you great beast!" she finally said. "Now I will whip you for your presumption, Quinn!" She pushed at him.
"If I were still the warrior I was born," he told her daringly, "I would fuck you again and again, mistress, until you begged for my mercy."
"Would you?" she purred at him as he rolled away from her. Then, getting to her feet, she picked up the leather that had earlier rested in his hands. "Get on your hands and knees now, Quinn!" she ordered him. And when he had obeyed her she laid five strokes upon his broad back, now well marked by her sharp nails. "Now leave me," she told him when she had finished. "You are beginning to bore me, I fear."
He scrambled to his feet, a puzzled look upon his handsome face, and left her. The lady Cordelia called to her slave women and went to her bath, where she was scraped free of the dirt and sweat upon her body, bathed, rinsed, and then left for a short while in a perfumed bathing pool. When she finally emerged she was thoroughly dried, and then massaged with fragrant creams until she was completely relaxed again.
The sex slave had taken the edge off of her lust, but she wanted her husband, the tribune, between her legs, not Quinn. If Caesar did indeed return him to Gaul she would go with him. And she was going to sell Quinn. General Flavonius's wife had admired him from the first time she had.seen him at a party several of the women held for their amusement while their husbands were away. Indeed, many of the women had coveted Quinn. She would hold an auction and let him go to the highest bidder. She spent the rest of the day napping, eagerly awaiting her husband's arrival home. And when he finally arrived she melted into his arms.
"I have missed you the day long, Max," she told him.
"I am to be sent back to Gaul," he said, his lips brushing hers.
"I will go with you," the lady Cordelia said.
"It is not Rome," he replied.
"We will make it our own little Rome," she responded.
"My villa is not large, and it has not the amenities of this one," he warned her.
"We will enlarge it and add what we need, Max. I don't want to be without you any longer. And I am going to sell Quinn. Many of my friends have admired him. I should realize a nice profit from the sale, and I will use it to make our new home perfect."
"I think you will regret your decision, Cordelia, but I am not unhappy to have you come. It is lonely in northern Gaul, and cold," he warned her.
"And your whores smell," she teased him. "Now you will not have to avail yourself of those savage females, Max, for you will have me to fuck whenever you want to, my darling!"
"I am of a mind to fuck you now, wife, for your speech excites me," he told her, pulling her into his arms, one hand kneading her breast. "Yes, I very much want to fuck you right now!" he said, yanking his garment off.
She felt his cock-thick, hard, long-against her belly, and she was so eager for him. And then Ashley heard the ping of the Channel's warning bell. "Damn!" she swore as she felt her fantasy sliding away, and she awoke in her bed alone. Wednesday. It was Wednesday, and she had two long days and another long night ahead of her before Ryan got home. She rolled over, and slipped back into sleep for a few more hours.
He hadn't gotten back to her yesterday after she had called him about his sisters, but she expected he would eventually. The five harpies were his problem. Yesterday's little incident had made it certain in her mind that she wasn't going to like them at all. She and her brother had never been like that with each other. They had gladly shared everything they had between them. If one had a success, the other cheered that success. Oh, yes, she and Ben had had their disagreements, but neither of them would have ever deliberately tried to hurt the other. She didn't understand how his sisters could be that way. It wasn't as if their father hadn't remembered them when he died. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars each was a damned nice inheritance. And it had been Ryan who had seen that they got that money. Money he had made for their father.
Lacy Nothings was being inundated with new merchandise when Ashley got down to the shop. Jerry, their UPS man, was lugging it all in from his truck and piling it on the counters and floor.
He grinned as he handed her the clipboard to sign. "Looks like Christmas is coming," he said. "Do you think that teddy I ordered for my girlfriend is in one of those boxes? It sure looked sexy in the catalog, Ms. Kimbrough. And thanks for getting it in her size. Not many shops carry sexy stuff above a twelve."
"I'll go through the shipment today and see," Ashley promised him, signing, and then handing him back his clipboard. "It should be in this shipment or the next. We'll have it in time for her birthday next month, I promise. And it's Mrs. Mulcahy now. I got married August twenty-fifth."
"I thought I heard some gossip around the village about that," Jerry admitted. He had been the UPS man in Egret Pointe for almost fifteen years now. He knew everyone and just about everything that happened in the town.
"What's the gossip on Emily Devlin?" Nina asked boldly.
"I just delivered some baby things over there on Friday," Jerry said. "Essie says she won't get a nanny cause she likes being a mom. She's hurrying to finish her latest book," Jerry informed them. "You can tell she's real Egret Pointe, like you are, Mrs. Mulcahy. She's got that good work ethic. Well, gotta go. Truck is pretty full today."