![]() ![]() The eldest scion of the four wealthy, powerful brothers who were the defacto rulers of the ElseWorld community here in Rome. ![]() She'd taken a Satyr as a lover, for Gods' sakes! And not just any Satyr. But now it appeared that any trouble was more precisely, in her. Before she'd been able to wind up matters there, Silvia had rushed here to Rome, worried she might be in some sort of trouble. At least, not until recently, when Michaela had severed all connection after leaving Venice. Silvia could only assume from her friend's soft, appreciative cries, that it satisfied her as well.Īlthough copulation was a private matter, she had no qualms about observing them. Lord Satyr's big hand slid under Michaela's bottom, tilting her in a way that better accommodated him. She touched her fingers to her cheek briefly, a gesture made so often she no longer knew when she did it Hers a smooth, olive perfection that was so unlike Silvia's own flawed, pale flesh. His flesh darkened by his heritage and the sun. His incredible masculine body moving on Michaela's exquisitely feminine one. She moved to the hearth and held her hands to the fire.īehind her, Lord Satyr was taking his time, rutting with long, vigorous strokes that caused his bed to lurch and shudder, and had Michaela sighing with pleasure. The February wind was cruel outside these walls. But, Gods, she was starving.Īt least the room was warm. She didn't dare partake of them or do anything else that might draw the notice of the room's other two occupants. But she was an Ephemeral, and when in a non-corporeal state as she was now, her sense of smell was nonexistent. She bent and put her nose to it, inhaling deeply, wishing she could smell the sweet delicacies hidden inside the gay wrapping. There were few things that could have drawn her attention away from the carnal display on the bed, even momentarily. ![]() That in itself told Silvia that this particular specimen of manhood must be something quite extraordinary.Ĭonfident that neither of them could see her in her current form, she meandered around the perimeter of the bed, pausing at the sight of the confectioner's box on the bedside table. Like most in her profession, she had taken hundreds if not thousands of lovers over the centuries. Michaela had been born a Companion, a courtesan with the power to please any man. And when it came to hedonistic matters such as these, had lived vicariously through her. Silvia had always watched over her as best she could. Had been since their childhood in Vesta's Temple. Michaela was her closest, dearest friend in both worlds. Which just possibly made him worthy of the woman he was riding. By firelight, he was magnificent-a golden god. From her vantage point, all she could see was his backside. Silvia could only employ her imagination regarding how sizable that portion of his male anatomy might be. Her body was open to receive each thrust of his organ. Michaela looked so vulnerable and feminine lying in his enormous bed, under his enormous, straining warrior's body. With an experienced eye, Silvia sized him up in a long, sweeping glance as she stood at the foot of his bed, her arm loosely wrapped around a bedpost corded with carven grapevines.ĭark, cropped hair broad, sculpted shoulders a pronounced indentation running the length of his spine powerful thighs and buttocks flesh glistening from his exertions knees dug into the bedcovers between the smooth stockinged thighs of his bed partner. Lord Bastian Satyr was certainly a big one. Rome, EarthWorld Esquiline Hill February 1881 ![]() Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Bastian, The Lords of Satyr ![]()
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