Page 73 of Ensnaring the Dove
Aedan stilled. Keir was right. It was. However, releasing his bitterness toward the Caesars would be easier said than done.
Exhaling sharply, Aedan nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Moira groaned, arching her back with the feline grace that had attracted Severus to her from the first. She tilted her face to the ceiling then, revealing the long, milky line of her neck.
Severus watched her, in rapt fascination, as she gave herself in to the pleasure. He loved to see her topple over the edge, and to know he’d brought her there.
Moira’s statuesque body gleamed with sweat from their coupling, her magnificent breasts swaying as shudders of pleasure went through her. Her bright hair, which she usually wore tied back, cascaded over her pale shoulders.
Minerva, she was a sight.
Lying on his back, breathing hard from his own climax, Severus enjoyed the torpor that always followed a good tumble. He’d let her ride him tonight, one of his favorite positions, and their coupling had been wild and passionate, even more than usual.
“Come here,” he said hoarsely, reaching for his lover and gently pulling her down so she lay cradled in his arms.
Wordlessly, Moira complied. She was still breathing hard, and she splayed a hand over his chest, her fingers threading through the crisp, sweat-damp hair there.
They lay together for a while, as their pulses and breathing steadied, and Severus clung to the sense of well-being that cocooned them. For a short while, he could forget the attempted mutiny and his daughter’s flagrant behavior.
Nonetheless, Colombia had shown great courage and skill in standing up to those men. He’d looked on in amazement as she soothed their tempers. In the end, they’d walked meekly out of the principia courtyard.
Severus had remained true to his word. He’d only dealt out mild punishments for the legionaries responsible for the uprising. Nonetheless, he was keeping a close eye on those men now; he wouldn’t be trusting any of them again.
Severus tensed then as the reality of life beyond the walls of his cubiculum crept back in. Even Moira, with her soft, supple body, and hair that smelled of rosemary, couldn’t keep his troubles at bay for long.
Stirring against him, Moira propped herself up onto an elbow, while one hand continued to trace intricate designs across his chest.
Severus watched her for a moment, huffing a soft laugh. “What are you doing, woman … giving me tribal markings?”
She glanced up, her mouth curving. “They’d suit you … a warrior should bear tattoos.”
“I have one, remember?” Severus shifted slightly, raising his right arm to show where the letters SPQR had been etched into his skin: Senatus Populusque Romanus. Underneath the letters was a design of Capricornus—the horned goat was one of the emblems of the Second Legion.
Reaching out, Moira traced her fingertips over the marking on his upper arm. His skin prickled at her touch. Her lips quirked once more. “And I’ve always liked it … however, I would also give you another.” Her hand moved to the right side of his chest. “Here.”
“And what marking would you choose?” he asked. Severus was enjoying this game; it drew him out of his brooding and made him forget his cares for a short while.
“A Doire Knot,” she murmured without hesitation, tracing a circle upon his chest. “Interlinking oak branches … symbolizing strength, wisdom … and immortality.”
Severus snorted. “Immortality?”
Her smile faded. “My people believe our Gods were created from the saplings grown from fallen acorns. Oak trees are sacred to us … which makes the Doire Knot a powerful marking indeed.”
Severus’s own expression faded as their gazes met and held. His slave had bestowed an unexpected compliment upon him tonight, and her words caused a kernel of warmth to germinate under his ribcage.
The Britons were strange folk. Fierce and yet highly emotional, they lacked the order and discipline of his own people. His red-haired slave had always been somewhat of an enigma to him—and he realized now that he was no closer to understanding her.
“Your daughter knows about us,” Moira said then, catching him by surprise.
Severus tensed, the well-being and warmth enveloping him sloughing away. He then frowned. “You told her?”
Moira shook her head, her expression shuttering. “She saw me leaving your room last night.”
Their gazes held, and the anger that had spiked within Severus drew back.
Jupiter, his temper was on a short leash these days. He’d been ready to scold his slave for her flapping tongue, yet this wasn’t her fault.
In truth, he’d been increasingly careless of late when it came to Moira. Marcus and Claudia would likely know he’d taken his slave to his bed—but when Colombia moved into the praetorium, he hadn’t wanted her to discover the arrangement.