Slave Girl (The 1,001 Erotic Nights Series) by Lisa Cach

Author:Lisa Cach [Cach, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2014-07-27T23:00:00+00:00

To say that I am disappointed in you, Nimia, would be to gravely understate the matter.”

Trembling, I kept my head bowed, afraid of meeting Sygarius’s angry eyes. Afraid of what he knew; afraid of what he might find out. Afraid that someone had heard me with Clovis: they could have been outside the partially shuttered windows, and heard and seen it all. Someone could have been sent down to a cellar for wine, and been drawn to the sounds we made. I had been living in terror for two days that there would be another lesson where I’d again have to display my sex to him, and he would see that all was not as it had been.

Could you tell, by looking?

And even if you couldn’t, what promise did I have that Clovis wouldn’t tell someone? He’d said he wouldn’t, but I couldn’t be certain. And whoever he told would tell someone, who’d tell someone, and then the whole villa would know.

I had cursed myself a thousand times since meeting with Clovis in the pressing room. What had I been thinking? How could I have thought I’d get away with it? The dread of what was going to happen to me, now that I’d given my virginity to the wrong man, had kept me staring into the darkness through the late watches of the night.

Dark spirits had come to prey upon my imagination in those hours. I’d lain quaking, certain that at any moment Sygarius would throw back the curtain to the room, order soldiers to drag me out of the villa, and then beat me. Whip me. Brand me with a hot iron. Pour molten lead down my throat. Chop off my ears, my nose, my lips, my hands. Bludgeon me to near death, and then hand me over to the legion to be used as their whore until I did die.

Or maybe he’d skip the beating and hand me directly to the soldiers, telling them to use me as cruelly as they could, but to keep me alive to suffer as long as possible. It might be years before my body wore out, though surely my soul would die early on.

Worse if it didn’t.

In the dark hours, such ends seemed to my fevered mind to be the only possible outcome of what I’d done.

The thought that Sygarius might not find out was too unlikely to entertain. Of course he would find out.

So I regretted. Deeply. Fervently. Wildly. I wished that reality were a dream, and I would wake up to find myself standing before the pressing room door, not yet decided on whether or not to enter.

To be given the chance to choose again . . .

Would I be a good spider and crawl back into the safety of my web?

Truth be told, it was the consequences of my actions that I didn’t want to face, and that I regretted bringing upon myself. I didn’t regret those hungry moments with Clovis. I’d thrown my virginity at him as if it were a spear, and forced him to take it.

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