"Good evening, Senator," Felicity greeted him in the rear yard.
Caesar bathed the lovely young slave with his most charming smile. "Bedchamber?"
Felicity raised her eyes to his face only long enough to be captivated by his good looks and friendly face. "Yes, Senator."
He dashed around her and disappeared through the rear door almost before Felicity realized he had moved at all. She suppressed a giggle and followed him for form's sake. She reached her mistress' bedchamber just in time to hear the heavy door bolt slide into place. She listened at the door until she heard a delighted squeal from her mistress and then returned to her duties, smiling.
Roxanna lay on her side in bed, facing the door as she waited for him. A soft, lightweight sheet covered her from ankles to neck. She was taken aback when he rushed into the room and bolted the door. "What's happened," she asked, alarmed.
"Your girl has a graceful, dignified and quite slow walk- one that I lack the patience for this evening. Don't be angry with her, it was my doing entirely." He stood on one foot, leaning against the wall as he unfastened and removed his shoes. His belt joined them on the floor and he approached the bed clad only in his tunic. Roxanna admired his broad shoulders, muscular legs and graceful movements.
"Impatient? Whatever for?" Her tone was tantalizingly innocent, but her eyes were wickedly playful.
Caesar grabbed an edge of the sheet and quickly pulled it away. Roxanna was deliciously naked and perfectly posed. "It struck me this afternoon that I have no idea if you are ticklish," he said as he sat beside her.
"Don't be wicked," she warned, her muscles tensing. She squealed as he tickled her mercilessly.
By the time Caesar relented, he was laying beside her. He fluffed a pillow and propped his head on it, his right arm bent between them. He wound a lock of her hair around one finger. He placed his left hand on her waist and she tensed, fearing more tickling. His playful smile changed by an almost imperceptible degree as his eyes met hers. "I hope your memories of me have been a great condolence."
Roxanna was pleased that he remembered her teasing farewell. She plucked at a loose thread in his tunic and laughed. "My memories of you do more to TORMENT me, but, when the torment becomes unbearable, they do bring me solace." She looked up at him through her lashes.
He spread his palm against her waist, stroking her stomach with his thumb. "How can such pleasant memories cause you torment?" He was teasing, but Roxanna played along.
"They chase me and the only way I can outrun them is by keeping my mind well occupied. They are always lurking, searching for any opportunity to lunge at me. I cannot rest for a moment without them invading my thoughts."
Caesar knew Roxanna spoke the truth; there was no other explanation for her ability to perfectly express his own experience. He was hungry to hear more. "Why do you fight them? Do you not enjoy our time together?"
She raised one brow, "You know I enjoy our time together. Remembering it is not the same as experiencing it. It is like walking through the kitchen when my favorite food is being cooked; the delicious scent makes my mouth water and I am suddenly hungry, but the meal will not be ready for many hours." Roxanna shook her head slightly and smiled, her eyes returning to the loose thread on his tunic, with which she fiddled again. "My belly cannot differentiate the smell of the food cooking from the smell of the completed dish. It knows only that it is hungry."
"Thinking of me makes you hungry?" Caesar tried his best to look and sound confused. He wanted her to continue.
"Thinking of you makes me hungry for YOU. My belly is not the only part of me that is easily confused," Roxanna laughed. "When I open myself up to those memories, my body... responds- and I want you, but you're not here. It is frustrating when my desire is kindled but there is no one to feed the flame."
"So that is when you think of other things?"
"No, that is what happens when I do NOT think of other things. It is almost impossible to set my mind on anything else once I've allowed my body to drift so deeply into such a memory," Roxanna explained as she took stock of Caesar. The changes in him were so subtle; she doubted anyone else would have noticed them at all. His gaze now danced between her eyes and her lips. He had let go of her hair and was barely touching her with his fingertips, slowly feathering them up and down her neck. His other hand had fallen slightly toward the bed and his thumb was now grazing her navel. She moistened her lips with her tongue.
"How can a memory envelope one's body," he asked, willing her to give voice to what he most wanted to hear her say.
"It is surprisingly easy, when the memory is of a touch or of a kiss, or a..." Roxanna closed her eyes and sighed, "a look." She smiled, her eyes still closed. "Those memories wrap around my body like a blanket, but they only give the promise of warmth, not the warmth itself. They make me dizzy when I let them. And they make me..." she sighed again, "Oh, they make me want you. I can almost feel your touch, taste your skin."
Caesar wondered what memory was playing in her mind at that moment as he watched its effect upon her. Her lips appeared fuller, her nipples were swollen, her breathing shallow. She shifted her thighs and he felt her belly quiver beneath his thumb.
"The desire becomes unbearable sometimes," she continued. "I whisper your name over and over," her lips formed a perfect pout before she breathed, "but you are not here..."
"I am here now, Roxanna," he whispered.
She opened her eyes and reached out, running her hand over the smooth skin of his face. Her smile was gentle as she looked at him. "Are you?"
Caesar raised his hand from her belly to the back of her neck and drew her head to his. The first kiss was gentle, tentative. Roxanna's eyes were opened to be certain he truly was with her and Caesar's eyes were opened to watch her reaction to that reality.
The touch and taste of his lips suddenly made him real and Roxanna's body rejoiced. She explored his face with her fingers as he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching for and finding hers.
Caesar wanted nothing more than to submit to her every whim, for her to orchestrate his every move. "I am here and I am at your command," he whispered against her ear.
"Ohhh, Caesar. Touch me, please. Run your hands all over me." She pulled her head away and looked at him. When he ran his free hand down her arm, she watched his hand. He shifted his weight, freeing his right arm to touch her breast. She watched as his knuckles brushed her nipples. Now his left hand was on her other breast, holding it as she watched. She moaned.
He ran his hand down her side to the swell of her hip and she followed it with her eyes, her lips parted. He reached behind her and stroked the curve of one firm cheek and she turned her head to keep his hand in sight. Her breathing was heavy. He brought his hand back before her and placed it on her knee. Roxanna's eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he worked his way up her thigh, but she refocused and watched it slide higher and higher. He stopped just short of the prize and she looked into his eyes.
"Please, touch me," she whispered.
He lifted his hand and placed it low on her belly, running his fingers over the narrow strip of her pubic hair as he made his way down. He spread his fingers, not wishing to overexcite her with direct contact to that most sensitive of spots. He eased his fingers into the hollow at the top of her thighs, gently stroking her lips. His breath caught. He looked at her face and she lifted her eyes from his hand to his eyes.
"I, too, am haunted by your memory, Roxanna, and this evidence of your desire for me tortures me most of all."
She smiled. "Then I shall tell you a secret," she said and leaned forward to whisper directly into his ear. "Just thinking of you does that to me... and I think of you often." When she pulled her head back, his eyes were closed.
Caesar smiled, shook his head, and finally managed to force his eyes open. "How sweet those words sound now, even though I know they will be the cause of many sleepless nights." He flicked his middle finger upward and stroked her lightly between her swollen lips, groaning.
Roxanna gasped and grabbed his wrist, "Careful," she whispered. "You have me too close already."
He brought his hand back up to her waist. "How can that be? I barely touched you."
She studied his face carefully for a while, her expression slightly troubled.
"Is something wrong, Roxanna?" Genuine concern resonated in his voice.
Roxanna reached for his right hand and held it in her own. "I fear the consequences of showing you how much power you have over me."
"I do not understand. Surely, you have nothing to fear from me." He stroked her face with his left hand.
She was satisfied by his response and pulled a pillow into place, touching the one cradling his head, and rested her cheek against it. They now faced each other on the same level with three or four inches separating their bodies. She laid the palms of her hands against his chest and looked into his eyes. "Would you like to know exactly how much I desire you, Caesar?"
He swallowed before whispering, "Yes."
"Wrap your hands around my wrists," she instructed. When he had complied, she continued. "You must hold my hands in this position, and your hands must remain exactly where they are." She moved her head nearer to his, their foreheads barely touching. "This can be the ONLY contact between us. Do you understand?" He nodded and she graced him with her wicked smile. "Now, tell me all about these thoughts that torture you."
Caesar was reticent, a mark of his nobility. The sexual act was one thing, but admitting to one's secret lusts was un-Roman. The legal advocate in him pled the case in his head. The point of this exercise was to prove the extent of his control over her; his small sacrifice would result in increased power. He smiled to himself and relaxed.
"All thoughts of you torture me, but none so completely as those of your desire for me."
Roxanna knew this did not come naturally for him, so she led him. "How does my desire for you manifest? Is it always the same?"
Caesar considered these questions for a moment. "No," he said. "It is never exactly the same, though it usually begins in your face. You look at me differently; your expression changes. You lower your head slightly, as if you are submitting yourself to me."
