Free Slave of Rome, The Emperor's Obsession. Book Two by Alex Carlsbad

Chapter One

    "Now, slave, your training can truly begin," and with that Josephus had simply stood up and left. He hadn't even bothered to finish what he had started. He had left her there standing with her legs apart, hands at her back, naked, willing, waiting — a being of pure feeling. Judging by the look of wild hunger he had cast upon her naked form, Myra knew he not only wanted her, but rather — needed her body. But somehow, he had made himself leave, his massive form of supple muscles, a scarred being of raw animal hunger, he had slipped out the door, allowing the finality of the lock falling into place to seal her solitude.
    She waited, keeping the position he had ordered wondering if perhaps it was a test of some sort. But as time went by she realized that he wouldn’t be coming back. At least not now. Myra huddled back into her bed, tucked herself naked under the covers, shivering and afraid to so much as get up and plead for someone, anyone to bring her breakfast.
    Cold and miserable, it took Myra quite some time to fall back into a troubled restless sleep that brought to agonizing life the dark form of a tall handsome soldier, old wounds criss-crossing his velvet skin. He looked at her, an expression filled with languid misery, in his eyes -- reflections of invisible demons engaged in unfathomable struggle.
    In her dream, Myra realized he wasn’t alone. Together with him there was yet another man, one of pure and utter darkness, one whose presence she felt only by the void of light he left, rather than the reflections he cast. It was as if his form sucked the sun rays out from the space around him. She felt that creature of darkness lift a hand and suddenly grab a hold of her. She started screaming, a small yelp of frightened astonishment that fast blossomed into a wail of utter desperation.  
    Her eyes flew open and she saw the most beautiful creature she had ever witnessed looking down at her, an expression of genuine concern painted upon her exotic features. A Nubian girl, or woman rather, stark naked except for a gold chain of delicate metal links hanging around her proportionate abdomen was standing by her bed. In her arms she held a tray of exquisite fruits, and a bowl from which the most delicious aroma rose to make Myra's empty stomach lurch in despair.
    ''Hello," Myra ventured. She smiled a cautious greeting and then conscious of her own lack of clothing, she pivoted her legs around and stood out of the tiny bed.
    Myra felt the black girl tower over her. Why did everyone she met here, in Rome, make her feel so small, so vulnerable? The girl was beautiful. Myra watched as she walked over to the corner of the room and deposited the tray on the small table there. She couldn't help but stare at her muscled form as it swayed with mesmerizing regularity. The girl turned, and Myra blushed to the very tips of her toes. The black girl smiled the most sparkling smile she had ever seen. Myra straightened to try and make up for her small height.
    Myra felt her eyes drawn to slave’s body as she arranged the plates of delicious food. Her tummy grumbled and she blushed.
    "You are hungry, milady. You should eat." Her melodious voice was heavily accented. Myra didn't answer or say a thing, her mind torn between the animal hunger for the steaming plate of food and the raw desire that the naked woman's presence elicited in her. The woman drew closer and carried up a smaller plate with tiny morsels of meat that were still simmering. She picked up one and unflinchingly brought it to Myra's lips. Somehow her skin wasn't affected by the temperature of the sizzling morsel even as she held it in her fingers and brought it to Myra's quivering lips.
    "Blow on it; it's hot, milady." Myra blew to cool the meet, worried that if she didn't hurry the woman’s skin would scar, and somehow she would be to blame. It tasted even better than she had expected, whether it was a result of the skill of the cook or the touch of the woman