What have I done to myself? The question
woke Claudia hours before dawn, robbing her of the
deepest, most peaceful sleep she’d experienced in years and
giving her no rest since. Her blessed contentment shattered,
she could not shove the man from her mind or the memory of his
touch from her body.
Still, she’d managed to get most of yesterday’s
work off her desk. Only one signature remained. The tablet lay
in front of her, but the last three paragraphs of Damon’s carefully
worded contract eluded her. The closer the time came for Damon
to appear, the more distracted she became. He would have finished
his rounds by now. She awaited his arrival with both anticipation
and dread. She’d chewed her lower lip raw.
Blaming him would be so easy, and just what
she needed to ease her guilt. He had, after all, tempted her.
Her mind kept returning to the fact, seeking justification for
its mutinous surrender, but reason insisted she claim responsibility.
He was a slave—her slave, and bound to do what she bid.
And
bid she would, without a doubt. A shiver coursed through her
at the memory of what he’d done to her. She had no problem blaming
him for making her want more. The idea of using him shamed her
a little, yet she could not convince herself that, if he refused
her in the future, she wouldn’t insist.
The knock at her door stopped her breath.
She considered finding some task for him to do far away from
the house—a coward’s temporary solution. But six orders sat
on the corner of her desk awaiting his attention.
He rapped again.
She forced herself to breathe.
“Enter.” Claudia picked up the contract
and put her mind to those last few clauses.
“Good morning, Era,” he said in a perfectly
normal voice that flowed from her ears to her sex, plucking
every nerve on the way.
“I’m almost done,” she said without looking
at him. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Look these over while
you wait, please.” She pushed the stack of orders toward him.
Claudia made three more attempts to understand
what she read. If she’d thought anticipating his arrival distracting,
his actual presence was ten times so. How could she keep her
eyes on her reading when they were constantly drawn to the fall
of fabric over his hips and thighs where he stood in front of
her?
She watched the movement of his hand as
he lifted each tablet a few inches from the table to read. He
had beautiful, long-fingered hands, the nails scrubbed and neatly
trimmed. Her sex clutched remembering the way those fingers
had filled her. A shudder betrayed her.
Damon’s hand trembled when he reached for
the next tablet. So, he noticed her scrutiny and was not unaffected
as he wanted her to believe. Somehow, the fact eased her mind.
Claudia stopped pretending to read and gathered
herself. Why was she so nervous? This was her office, her house,
her slave. The time had come to take charge. She looked up,
aware of every inch her eyes swept over on their way to his
face.
Damon waited for her to speak first.
She needed something, anything, from him
to tell her what last night had been to him. If the answer was
a job well done, so be it, but this pretense of normalcy disturbed
her.
When it became obvious she wouldn’t break
the silence, he said, “The wagons are here for the first shipment
to Rome. They’ve begun loading. Do you want to come with me
this morning when I inspect?”
A surge of annoyance stifled her response.
She’d get up and leave before letting him act like nothing had
happened between them. “Sit.”
His eyes widened with alarm. “This isn’t
a good idea,” he muttered, but he crossed the tiny room and
dragged the other chair to the front of the desk. By the time
he sat, his good-natured calm had melted to concern.
“I’ve offended you,” he said quietly.
“Quite the contrary,” Claudia said. She
set the tablet she’d been trying to read aside. “I think I must
have been the one to offend. You seemed quite upset when we
parted.”
“No, Era, not upset. Bewildered, perhaps.
The end was…unexpected.”
Unexpected? Did she commit some breach of
etiquette? The idea brought a smile to her face. “I find that
hard to believe.”
“Era, I promise you, my only intention—”
“Really, Damon, I couldn’t have you leave
my room in such a state.”
Understanding dawned in his face. He smiled.
“I assure you, I was very aware of my state,Era. I needed only
a moment or two to compose myself.”
Claudia was the first to admit she lacked
experience in these matters, but a moment?” ...
18 and
over, read what came before: Rated
NC17 Excerpt
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Damon's Price here.
Research.
I love research. The story for “Damon’s Price,” the love of a
slave for his domina, arose while I was researching women
in ancient Rome for another story.