Rose by Louisa Trent

Author:Louisa Trent [Trent, Louisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-10-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Though the whore and his slave took their time joining Amaurus, join him they did. Making an outrageous spectacle of themselves, laughing sickeningly at one another's dubious wit and holding hands as if they were off to wed, they entered the alcove and looked longingly into one another's eyes.

The redhead wasted no time. Only just settled into their love nest, she pressed the lad to her bosom. As he gasped for air within the deep canyon of cleavage, she groped the front of his trews.

Was his slave equal to the challenge?

Doubtful. And aye, that was sour grapes talking. The turn of events had pricked his pride. He, a mature man of obviously robust penile talents, had been thrown over in favor of a girlish lad of questionable virility.

Damnably insulting to lose out to a boy barely out of swaddling clothes.

Amaurus tweaked his ear. Not that anyone noticed his pique. Busy tonguing each other, the two lovebirds might have been alone in the alcove. A veteran leader of many military campaigns, he found himself totally ignored, an unfamiliar--and humiliating--position. On top of that, he who never let a situation ruffle him, was ruffled all over. Those two's lip smacking went on and on.

From the full-bodied looks of her, the whore possessed a large lung capacity. But what of his slave? Was his hollow chest sufficient to these demands?

Suffocation was a distinct possibility. Fearing for the lad's health, Amaurus began prying the two apart with an elbow. Incidental to his rescue mission, he sent the lad sprawling.

The whore rushed to the fallen boy's side. "Are you all right, dearie?"

"He needs air," Amaurus said pointedly.

When the overprotective woman stepped away, he turned her adroitly into his embrace. His aim? To show her--and their downed spectator--how a kiss should rightly be done.

Stand back and see how an expert does it...

Rolling up his proverbial sleeves, Amaurus bent his head to the task and got to work.

Not a labor of love as it turned out.

He kept his eyes open. Even so, his lip puckering blocked his view of the boy. Straightaway, his interest in the activity waned. His erection--

Pardon? What erection was that?

No use trying to recapture his arousal, he slipped the agreed-upon amount into the whore's hand. Now that silver lined her palm, the woman blew his slave a kiss and shrewdly returned to the banquet on the scent of a man able to keep it up while making up his bloody mind.

Amaurus brooded on the lad. "On your knees, Slave."

At the command, the lad shuffled into a supplicant's position from his artful sprawl on the floor.

"Anything I can do for you, my lord?" he asked innocently.

Too innocently.

They were alone in the dark alcove, naught between them save a wish that remained unexpressed. And the boy knew. He knew what was on Amaurus's mind. His perverse need. His unspeakable desire. The unnatural lust that raged within him. His unexpressed wish.

Do not make me say it. I beg you, do not!

"My lord, I think I should tell you.

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