Page 162 of Brutal Vows
I’m horrified by the realization that not only has my cherished collection of vintage erotica been packed up and delivered here—which means Quinn’s men had to go through it to pack it up—but also that my cherished collection of battery-powered toys must have been discovered and shipped along with the books.
I picture half a dozen Irishmen in my bedroom, chortling and making dirty jokes as they toss my favorite vibrators around like Frisbees.
I might be in danger of vomiting.
“Ah, don’t make that face, lass. I’m sure nobody will think less of you that you enjoy such literary treasures as…” He reaches into the box and pulls out another paperback.“Glazed by the Gladiator.”
When he looks at me with his brows lifted, I say, “In my defense, that one is really well written.”
“Oh, I can imagine. The parts about how he glazed her must be majestic.”
“As a matter of fact, they are. But my favorite part’s on page sixteen.”
As he flips the pages, he murmurs to himself, “She’s got it committed to memory.”
He finds the page and starts reading. After several moments of silence, he glances up at me.
Weirdly excited, I say, “Her husband is a rich old man with erectile problems. And she’s desperate to have a child. So when the most famous, handsome, and virile gladiator in Rome gets arrested and thrown into a dungeon below the Colosseum, she decides to pay him a little conjugal visit to try to get some of his super sperm for a baby.”
“Why was he arrested?”
“Who cares? That’s not what’s interesting about the story.”
“No, what’s interesting is that this scene where a robed mystery woman enters the dungeon and tries to talk her way into the gladiator’s good graces so she can harvest his superior genes for her future child takes place in thefirst chapter. What the bloody hell happens in the rest of the book?”
“More of that. Except later, he breaks out of the dungeon to find her because he’s madly in love with her by then.”
Quinn looks down at the book. “She had him blindfolded by the guards before she entered the cell. How did he know who to look for?”
“By the sound of her voice.”
He glances back up at me, and now his tone is droll. “I see. So he breaks out of a dungeon to search all of Rome for a woman he’s never seen before. Excellent plan. Your gladiator is an idiot.”
I feel unreasonably smug to inform him otherwise. “But he found her, so he’s not.”
Exasperated, he says, “How did he find her? Telepathy?”
“He was in the market and overheard her talking to the tomato vendor.”
When he stares at me in disbelief, I smile. “So, Maximus Aurelius Tiberius… how strong is your sperm?”
His eyes sharpen. His energy charges. I swear I see his canines elongate.
Setting aside the books on the bar counter, he says gruffly, “Ifyou want to harvest it, Antonia Octavia Flavius, you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
I sashay toward him, holding his predatory gaze. “But I brought this special terra-cotta urn to collect your seed in, gladiator. I’m married. I simplycouldn’tbetray my wedding vows.”
As soon as I’m within arm’s length, Quinn reaches out and grabs me. He pins my arms behind my back, pulls me against his body, and stares down at me with blazing eyes.
“If your husband is too old to fuck you properly, your wedding vows are already broken.”
I coyly bat my lashes. “But sir, I’m a lady of the upper class. I could never fornicate with a mere soldier. A vicious criminal. A man condemned to death for his crimes.”
Looking at my mouth, he licks his lips. “You can’t have my seed unless you do.”
When I wriggle against him, rubbing my breasts against his chest, he growls. His eyes darken. His growing erection presses against my hip.
I’m not sure who likes this game better, him or me.
