“Take off your dress.” The words hovered between a request and command.
Crispina hesitated, wondering how far to let this go. She had already satisfied him, what more could he want?
“Why?”
“Because I’ve longed to see your body since the first moment I ever saw you. Because even a glimpse of your bare shoulder makes me ache.” He brushed his lips across her collarbone. “Because I want to pleasure you until you forget your own name.”
Her breath caught. She stole a glance at his cock, which had now softened. Whatever he had in mind, it seemed unlikely to include that.
And she desperately wanted to find out what he had in mind, so she struggled out of her dress. He helped her tug the fabric over her head, then tossed it in a ball onto the floor.
Cool air rushed over her skin. She watched Aelius’s face, searching for any hint of displeasure or disappointment. She found only rapture in his gaze.
“You’re a fucking goddess.” His voice, usually so smooth and charming, turned rough and hungry as he gazed at her.
He grazed a fingertip over her nipple so lightly it felt like the brush of a feather. She leaned into him, needing more. He squeezed harder, then gently laid her back on the bed. His hand covered one breast, his mouth the other one. Her back arched at the feeling of his fingers and tongue sliding over her nipples. His other hand slid down her stomach, caressing the curve of her hip, then lingered on her thigh.
She sensed what he was waiting for and parted her legs just a bit. His hand slipped between them, fingers heading straight for the spot where all her desire centered.
“Oh!” Heat flared at his touch. She grabbed his shoulders, overcome by the rush of sensation.
He paused. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I…it…" Her mind couldn’t seem to form words.
He let out a low chuckle. He stroked her in a gentle, firm motion. “What does it feel like?”
She dug her nails into his shoulders, needing something to anchor herself in the sea of pleasure. “I-I can’t think.”
“I’m making you feel so amazing you can’t think?” A roguish grin lit his face, and his fingers moved faster.
“Arrogant ass,” she gasped.
“I won’t tolerate insults while I’m in the midst of pleasuring you, so if you want to talk, you’re going to have to say something useful.” He withdrew his hand. Her body immediately ached with need at the absence of his touch. He leaned in to speak close to her ear, his breath tickling her hair. “I want you to…” He deliberated for a moment, until a wicked gleam lit his hazel eyes. “Recite theIliad. I know you know it.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
His fingers drew tantalizing circles on the inside of her thigh. “That’s my price. I want to hear your voice, stammering and breathless, until you forget the words altogether.”
Her cheeks burned. This was humiliating, and she should put a stop to it at once, but her body was still crying out for his touch, and playing along seemed the easiest way to get him to put his hands back. “All right,” she muttered.
He slid his hand between her legs.
“Sing, muse, of the wrath of—”
He pulled his hand away, frowning at her like a displeased teacher. “In Greek, Crispina.”
She rolled her eyes but obeyed, reciting the words she’d memorized as a child. Aelius touched her as she spoke, his fingers rekindling delicious pleasure between her legs. Any time she paused for more than a breath, he stopped touching her, so she had to keep the words coming. As her pleasure mounted, she spoke quicker and quicker—butchering the poetic meter. Achilles’ wrath and the might of Greek armies had never seemed so sensual.
The words became garbled and unintelligible, but she kept talking. At one point, she forgot the next line, so she started over from the beginning. Aelius didn’t seem to notice; he didn’t even know Greek, after all. His focus remained intent, the circular movements of his fingers steady and firm.
The poetry became nothing but gasps and moans as her yearning rose higher and higher. Finally, the pleasure crested in a hot, rolling wave that racked her body in spasms that felt endless.
The sensation left her in a rush, and she collapsed back onto the bed, finally silent. Aelius grinned at her, looking much too pleased with himself. He lay next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She turned onto her side, seeking the brush of his warm skin on hers.
He skimmed a hand down her back, then settled his hand in the curve of her waist. She nestled her head into his chest. Being held in a naked man’s arms, while just as naked herself, was novel, but somehow the way Aelius held her felt familiar, as if they’d been doing this every night since their wedding. The sense that she belonged here soothed her breathing into a slow rhythm, and she allowed it to lull her to sleep.
Chapter 16
