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beneath his robe to stroke him. “Take me again, my lord. Think of the girl’s beautiful, silken, smooth, ivory flesh beneath your hands; her hitherto untouched breasts, their little nipples puckering with your kisses; her plump thighs opening for you, and you alone,” the slave girl purred in her master’s ear. Then she licked it, blew softly, and feeling his new arousal beneath her buttocks, she quickly mounted him, her back to him, drawing his hands around to her large, full breasts.
    He grasped them, half panting, half moaning in her ear as he began once more to piston her. The images she had raised in his mind with her words had surprisingly aroused him. Was it possible that a new young wife would restore his vigor? Untouched flesh. He licked his lips as he strongly fucked Nudara. The Pietro d’Angelos would have kept the girl pure. He would be the first man to touch her. He would be the only man to touch her. She would be fearful that first night, and he would see she was. The thought of her fear was, in itself, arousing. He fucked Nudara harder, enjoying her moan of surprise at his renewed potency. He suddenly felt as if he could go on like this with her all night.
    But of course he couldn’t. He was expected shortly at the silk merchant’s house to be formally introduced to his bride-to-be. He would want to bathe before he went, and dress in his finest robe so that the little virgin would be truly impressed by his magnificence. Let her begin to understand the honor being done to her, to her family. While the blood tie was a matter of safety for him, it was a great honor for the silk merchant and his kinsman to be allied with the Rovere family.
    Releasing his lust a second time, he pushed Nudara from his lap. “Enough, you greedy little bitch,” he grumbled at her. “I will be too weak to go to my appointment.”
    Turning, she smiled at him. “I have pleased you today, my lord, and I am glad.”
    He said nothing more to her but shouted for his body servant, Guido, to attend him. The man came quickly, not wanting to cause his master’s good mood to fade.
    “Your bath is ready, my lord,” he said leading the way to the special chamber that was set aside for bathing in the Roveres’ palazzo. Not all houses, not even those of wealthy and important men, had such places set aside for just washing. It was much like a Turk’s home, but Sebastiano Rovere was a meticulous man in all his habits.
    “What do you propose I wear to meet my
fidanzata
for the first time, Guido?” he asked his servant as the man took the garment he had been wearing and handed it to another servant for disposal.
    “I would suggest that new, rich brown velvet robe you recently ordered,” Guido said. “It is trimmed with gold on the sleeves and neckline. The sleeves are also trimmed, as is the hem of the robe, in a pale, gold-brown fur. It is both elegant and impressive, master. An innocent maiden would be dazzled by a man who came before her thus garbed. Actually, any woman would be.”
    “Yesss,” Sebastiano Rovere murmured slowly in reply, picturing the garment and then seeing himself in it. “An excellent suggestion, Guido. Go and get it out while I am bathed. It will also do honor to her family if I am so grandly dressed, which should please the silk merchant and his wife. I am told she is the daughter of Venetian nobility.”
    “So it is said, master,” Guido agreed. Then bowing, he hurried off to prepare his master’s garments for this evening’s visit.
    Sebastiano Rovere gave himself over to the ministrations of the servants whose duty it was to bathe him. His vanity assured they were female, three Greek slave girls who always admired his male form and made complimentary remarks about his body. He knew that, despite his thirty-six years, he was in excellent physical shape, for he was usually careful in his diet, unlike most Florentine men, and he exercised, working with his fencing master several times a week.
    His new