The General's Virgin Slave Read Online Free PDF Page B

she
might expect to get away with her defiance.
    He looked over at the slave-master and
nodded. Flavian made a performance of unhooking the whip from his
belt and showing it to the girl. Hopefully she wouldn't be able to
tell how rarely it was used in that house.
    A strange look passed over her face.
Her cheeks were pale and sucked in, her lips held tight. She
finally lowered herself to kneel on the mosaic floor. But Marcus
knew, from the sultry gleam in her clear green eyes that she was
not yet done fighting him.
    "Axa," he said sternly.
    She did not look at him for she still
watched the flagellum.
    Marcus tugged on her chain.
"Axa."
    "Ouch!" That got her attention again,
her hands going back up to the collar.
    "Open your mouth."
    The flames spat and sizzled in her
eyes. "Why?"
    "Axa, a slave does not ask questions.
A slave obeys all things asked of her."
    She must have seen Flavian step closer
with the whip in hand, so she opened her lips with a tense sigh and
muttered, "I'll wake up soon anyway, so fine. Whatever."
    Marcus ran a fingertip over her teeth,
bottom and then top. "Yes, you are fine, Axa." Very good, clean and
preserved. This suggested she did indeed come from a family of some
prestige within the native hierarchy. Such as it was. She must have
eaten well and plentifully throughout her life and learned some
cleansing habits, at least.
    He took a pitted olive from the
platter and fed it to her, placing it carefully on the end of her
tongue. She closed her lips and glared up at him. For a moment he
thought she would spit it at him, but she slowly chewed and then
swallowed.
    The feeding continued with bread and a
piece of soft cheese that he made her lick from his
fingertips.
    "You were hungry, Axa?"
    She said nothing, but her gaze darted
sideways to the full platter. He laughed.
    So amusing she was, trying to hide
things with her face and lips, while her eyes revealed every
thought to him. "If you are a good slave, Axa, I will give you a
pillow to kneel upon tomorrow."
    "Lucky me," she retorted, her tone
sullen.
    Marcus cupped her chin in his hand and
raised it. "Yes, you are most fortunate. I have selected you to
dine at my side and sleep in my bed. Do you know who I
am?"
    "Nope. I can't even begin to imagine.
Yet," she chuckled scornfully, "somehow I must have, mustn't I? Or
you wouldn't be here."
    "I am Marcus Cassius, Primus Pilus.
You are now my property and you will address me as Master or
General."
    "I can't call you Marcus?"
    He'd never heard his name on a slave's
lips before. It sounded...too intimate. "No!" He sat back, still
holding her chain."What is the name of your tribe,
woman?"
    She seemed to think about this for a
moment. "Adams, I suppose."
    "I have never heard of
them."
    "No, you wouldn't have."
    "Why? They hide like spies,
eh?"
    "God, no!" She laughed lightly and
shook her hair back from her face. "Not my family. They're loud,
clumsy and generally drink too much. I'm afraid they wouldn't make
very good spies." Suddenly she seemed to forget what she was
saying. Her gaze had landed on his shoulder and upper arm as he
reached for bread. It was not the timid, shy glance of a slave. It
was a look of admiration. Bold and unabashed admiration.
    Tonight he wore a simple, sleeveless
tunic of linen. It was always a relief to remove all that armor and
relax in the comfort of his own triclinium. On this occasion, in
the company of his brand new slave, Marcus felt more at ease than
usual. However, he found that her green-eyed appreciation of his
muscles caused tension in at least one body part.
    "You have a lot of scars," she
muttered.
    He thought about not responding, but
she seemed so interested that he couldn't resist boasting. "Yes. I
have fought many campaigns across the empire."
    He offered the bread to her and she
took it slowly, staring at his hand. Her lashes swept down and then
up again, her pupils dilated, her cheeks softly, charmingly
colored. Once more her gaze traversed the length of his broad