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Slowly he began to rub the skin above his lip with his finger, back and forth, back and forth.
Delilah began to rock her hips. The moment she gave herself to the motion and the beat of the drums, it became easier. Lower and lower, she eased her way to the ground. She paused, spread her feet wider and continued to rock.
The colonel shifted in his seat, widening the spread of his knees.
Delilah went down on her knees. She arched her spine, presenting her curves, and let her hands draw the story of her body.
A little drop of sweat sparkled in the torchlight as it rolled past the colonel’s ear, to the sharp edge of his jaw.
Her fingers began by tracing the length of her throat, then skimming circles around the edges of her breasts. Her lips parted, her eyes drifted shut. Her thumbs caught on the tips bound in silk and her chin lifted as she gasped. It felt lovely. She felt lovely.
Slowly her hands trailed down to map the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips and finally, skimming across the tops of her legs, her fingers fanned out, covering the pulsing heat between her thighs.
For a moment she let him join her, opening her eyes just enough to connect to his gaze. Watching him watch her, she rocked her pelvis against the heel of her hand. It was absolutely indecent how wonderful it felt.
The colonel looked as if he were readying to pounce.
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She broke the contact between them by flinging her unbound hair forward. It slapped against his pants and pooled around his boots on the floor. With her forehead pressed to the cool tile, she rested a moment, trying to catch her breath. It was a position of obeisance, but she had never felt more powerful.
The colonel leaned forward in his seat and reached out for her.
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