Enslaved (The Druid Chronicles Book 3) by Christina Phillips

Author:Christina Phillips [Phillips, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phoenix 18 Publishing
Published: 2016-10-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Nimue’s gown slid to the floor, but Tacitus didn’t take his gaze from her face. But his eyes darkened and it became harder than ever to recall why she couldn’t simply indulge her desire to speak to him as she wished. Ask him whatever she pleased. Learn of his strange Roman ways that did not condemn its citizens for embracing foreign gods.

She reached for the brooch that held his cloak in place, but he captured her wrists in his hand, preventing her. “Lie on the bed.”

“Are you giving me orders, Roman?” There was no malice in her voice. She might hate her status and blame Tacitus for it, but she wasn’t stupid. The confrontation with his commandeering officer this night had clarified more than one question for her.

Tacitus hadn’t lied when he’d said, “I did what I did in order to protect you.” She didn’t have to like it to appreciate its truth.

“Yes.” He stepped back from her, removed his cloak and flung it across his casket. Dark flutters of lust kicked low in her pussy as she complied. His gaze raked over her, scorched her naked flesh. Instinctively she crossed her ankles, feeling suddenly vulnerable although she wasn’t sure why. Tacitus had seen her naked before.

“Does this please you?’ The words tumbled from her mouth before she could prevent them, but although she knew she was defying her Goddess by enjoying this encounter, she couldn’t help herself. The raw need that flared in Tacitus’ eyes at her provocative remark was worth any soul-searching she would inevitably need to conduct later.

“Spread your thighs so I might see you properly.”

She had never done such a thing before. Her lovers before Tacitus—to her shame she had taken only two before this Roman—had never demanded she display herself so utterly. She would never admit to such extraordinary inexperience.

Slowly she uncrossed her ankles and just as slowly parted her legs. Tacitus gazed at her, transfixed, and the knowledge that he found her so alluring intoxicated her senses.

“What would you have me do now?” She scarcely recognized the sultry note in her voice. Never before had such a question passed her lips while with a lover. But Tacitus was different, in every way, and not just by virtue of his foreign status.

His burning gaze licked over her body. How could just a look cause desire to curl through her core and make her nipples ache for his touch? She wanted his hands on her skin, his mouth on her breasts. But he made no move toward her, just continued to visually feast on her nakedness.

She shifted restlessly. Her exposed pussy lips, spread for his satisfaction, throbbed with need. Could he see her swollen clit? The slick arousal that betrayed her hunger?

Her ravenous gaze roved over his short military hair. It was nothing like that of any Celt warriors she had known. Until she’d met Tacitus, the thought of spearing her fingers through such short hair had never occurred to her. But now she longed to rake her nails over his head and feel the soft spikes of his hair graze her palm.

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