Maria watched it all—fascinated, transfixed, unable to look away even as shame burned in her chest.
She had heard the stories, of course. Endless nights with the brothel girls, their voices low and conspiratorial as they painted pictures of lovers' touches.
But those were tales—vivid, yes, but distant. Words on the wind.
This?
This was real.
Intimate.
The first time she had ever witnessed lovers like this.
And Cassius...gods, Cassius moved like he had studied every curve of the female form, mapped it down to the nerves that sang under his touch.
No frantic haste, no clumsy grabs.
Every caress was sensuous—deliberate strokes that made Carmela's body undulate like water under his hands.
When he twisted her nipple just so, her back bowed and a shiver raced down her spine.
When he groped the full weight of her breast and squeezed, she melted further into his chest with a sigh that bordered on worship.
