"You're flattering, but I meant it when I said not until our wedding night," she told him firmly. "You're a very healthy, lusty guy."

"You feel the same way about me as I do about you, and yet you are so cool about it as long as I don't touch you. But all I have to do is look at you and I want to pull your dress over your head," he growled at her. "How can you be so sanguine?"

"It's just a matter of self-discipline, Ryan," Ashley told him. That and having the Channel, she thought, and forced back the grin that was threatening to break out on her face. "I really want to do it this way, Ryan, please."

"I want to do it every way." He groaned.

"Then we should have one hell of a wedding night," Ashley said mischievously.

"I will make certain you don't walk for a week," he promised her menacingly.

"Ohhh, you are a very bad boy!" she teased him wickedly, and she waggled an admonishing finger at him.

"Are you a very bad girl?" he asked provocatively.

"I think I can be, with the right partner," Ashley said. Then she caught his hand up and began sucking on his middle finger. "Are you the right partner, Ryan?" Her tongue swirled about the finger slowly, and then she sucked hard on it. This was fun, she thought. She had never had this kind of a playful relationship with either of her two fiancés. It had been far more cut-and-dried. They had refrained from sex until she had an engagement ring on her finger, and then they had somehow fallen into bed. And both men had gotten far more out of it than she ever had, but she had assumed that was life. Now she was learning that it wasn't. She had never had a lustful attraction to any man until Ryan.

He closed his brown eyes briefly as he enjoyed the tug of her lips on his finger, and considered those lips fastening about his cock. Damn! He was hard again. He pulled his finger away from her. "If we're not going to fuck," he said, "then stop being such a bloody tease, Ash. You don't want Byrnes coming in and finding you on your knees in front of me with my dick in your mouth. The poor fellow would faint dead away."

Looking across the table at him, she considered. They could do a little sucking and licking. In fact, it would be very nice, and it would take the edge off of their appetites.

No! Was she out of what passed for her mind? The sexual attraction between them was much too hot. It wouldn't end with a little sucking and licking. That would be the beginning, and she damned well knew it. "You're right; I wouldn't," she admitted. "Okay, so we have done just about everything. Now, what do we wear? After the last three times I don't think I'm in the mood for another full-blown ninety-one-gun salute satin-and-lace wedding gown. I'd really like to keep it simpler, unless you want to see me in a 'Here Comes the Bride' outfit."

"Where are we doing the ceremony?" he asked.

"Garden if its sunny, and if it isn't, the ballroom," Ashley answered him.

"What time?"

"Four thirty? Very traditional, and Wasp. Good luck to have the clock hands sweeping up, and not down," she said.

"I've got a pale gray pin-striped suit," Ryan told her.

"Who will we ask to be witnesses?" Ashley said. "I don't think we need to do the best man-maid of honor thing, do you?"

"I'll get Frankie to be my witness," Ryan replied. "You?"

"I'll ask Mrs. B. I'm asking Byrnes to give me away," she told him. "They're really my only family, so to speak."

"What's your favorite color?" he asked her.

"I guess any shade of pink or lavender," she answered. "Why?"

"It's a surprise," he told her, grinning. "Okay. We've got invitations, and the announcements, the dinner menu, where, when, and who will sign the registry, and clothes. Have we forgotten anything?"

"Wedding gown, or no?" she said. "You never said which you would prefer."

"I think you should be a bride," he told her. "But it doesn't have to be a Princess Di kind of gown. Something simple, but something that when you look back at the pictures of your first wedding you won't regret what you wore and cringe. They say the first time is always special."

"That's sweet, Ryan," Ashley said. "And thoughtful too."

"I'm a sensitive guy," he said teasingly, and then he rubbed his crotch suggestively, leering at her with a grin.

"You need a cold shower, buddy," she said.

"I'll settle for a swim," he responded.

"Good idea! Go change, and I'll meet you at the pool-house. I want to take this menu to Mrs. B. first so she can begin considering the wedding dinner." Getting up, she hurried off toward the kitchens while he got up and went out to the poolhouse, where his bathing suits now permanently resided.

As he waited for her, swimming slow laps back and forth in the pool, he decided he was going to like this lifestyle. Ashley had told him that the pool was enclosed each winter, and heated so they could swim then. Yep, he was going to like it all. It was going to be getting unused to it in two years that would be hard. He climbed out of the pool and lay down on a chaise to get some sun.

She watched him from the poolhouse. Jesus, he was gorgeous! And that tight little European bathing suit he was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He had a fabulous butt, and he wasn't a guy who would ever need to stuff a sock in his shorts. From the size of his discreet wad he had to be as big as her two lovers on the Channel. Ashley pulled on the black one-piece suit, grabbed a towel, and stepped outside.

"How's the water?" she asked casually as she approached him.

"Good," he said, trying not to be too obvious as he assessed her. What a body she had! Those beautiful breasts of hers were very visible in that deceptively modest suit she was wearing. And her ass! Mamma mia! Round and tight. He fought himself not to reach out and grab it. She was not a petite girl, but there wasn't an ounce of flab on her, and she was in perfect proportion. Now he was really looking forward to seeing her naked. And he had another couple of weeks to go. He wasn't certain he was going to make it.

She knew he was looking her over despite the fan of dark eyelashes brushing his tanned cheek. She bent to carefully lay her towel on the empty chaise, giving him a nice long look at her tits. She slowly rubbed sunscreen on one leg, and then the other. On one arm, and then the other. Then she did her face and chest. "Do my back and shoulders, will you?" she asked innocently, handing him the tube. She sat on the edge of his chaise with her back to him.

He smoothed on the sunscreen with long, leisurely strokes of his palm, rubbing her flesh with a sensuous motion until it tingled. Her back was long and flawless. She had good skin. "I think I've got you covered," he finally said.

"Thanks," Ashley replied, standing, and then walking into the pool. "Nice," she said when she was waist deep.

He joined her, and they swam together for several minutes, back and forth, forth and back. She was a good swimmer, and so was he. "Ever swim naked in here?" he asked her with a mischievous grin.

"Sometimes," she allowed. "At night, when I know no one is about and can see me. And no, I am not going to swim naked now, and neither are you," Ashley told him firmly. "This is ridiculous, Ryan. We seem to have a case of raging hormones, and we just have to get past it. We aren't kids, damn it!"

"Then why do I feel like an eighteen-year-old around you?" he wanted to know.

"You're horny! You admitted yourself that you haven't had a woman in a while. And now that Dr. Sam has checked us both for STDs you'd better not! You are celibate until August twenty-fifth, and that's that!" Ashley told him. "If I can do it, you can do it. Don't be such a big baby, Ryan. I can't believe you can't stay out of trouble until then." She climbed out of the pool and stretched out on the chaise. She felt a twinge of guilt after that righteous little lecture she had just given him. Too bad he didn't have the Channel. She had really been getting her money's worth out of it lately, and it was actually the only way she had been able to resist his blandishments.

Quinn and Rurik were good lovers, but now that she had met Ryan Mulcahy she felt like a starving woman in front of a candy counter. She wanted to know what it would feel like to lie naked against his naked body. She wanted to feel his weight on her, his cock plundering her vagina, his mouth and his tongue on her, driving her wild with longing. Just thinking about it made her antsy, even though she had the Channel. If he felt the same way-and he obviously did-the waiting must be agony, but wait they would.


***

It wasn't easy, but Ryan's being in the city all week helped them both. And there was the Channel. Ashley was beginning to get a little bored with her two fantasies. Still, she didn't want to delete them. She had spent a lot of time perfecting them. Instead she decided to add a new element to the one with Quinn. It was time to introduce the lady Cordelia's husband, Tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius, into the picture. She smiled. Yes, it was time the tribune came home from campaign. Stretching out on her bed, she pressed the button that slid the wall back to reveal her television, and then she pushed A.

The villa was bustling with activity as the slaves prepared for their master's homecoming from northern Gaul. The lady of the house was stretched out as a slave massaged her body with a lily-scented cream. Quinn crept into the chamber and waited for her to recognize that he was there. Finally she cast a glance his way.

"My husband will be home shortly. You will confine yourself to your quarters until he has departed again. You know how he hates to see you and that lovely big cock of yours. Even though he gave you to me so I would behave while he is away, he does not wish to be reminded that you are foraging between my legs while he is gone. If he should catch so much as a glimpse of you, I will punish you severely, Quinn. I will send a slave girl to look after you. But you may not fuck her. Your cock is for me alone. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, mistress," Quinn answered her, his eyes lowered respectfully.

"Then get you gone," she told him, and turned back to the masseuse. "The ball of your thumb is too rough, Iris. Be certain to have it sanded when you massage me again."

"Yes, mistress," the slave woman answered, grateful not to have been hit.

There was the sound of trumpets amid the thunder of horses' hooves from outside the villa, announcing the arrival of someone of importance.

"The master is home!" she heard the slaves crying out.

Ashley smiled. Yes, this would add a soupcon of novelty to her fantasy. She arose from the massage table as her women scurried about her. Her long hair was scented with oil of lilies to match the fragrance arising from her naked body. A slave dropped a woven necklace of delicate white freesia about her neck, and handed her a second necklace. Then without a word the slaves ran from the chamber, and a moment later the twin doors into that chamber were opened, and her husband strode in. He had already been divested of his armor and garments. The tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius looked exactly like Ryan Finbar Mulcahy, and he was as naked as she was. Ashley stepped forward and dropped the floral necklace over his head.

"Welcome home, my lord," she said in a husky voice. She hadn't thought he would look like Ryan, but then, she had been thinking about Ryan a great deal lately.

Reaching out, he swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "I have missed you, lady. The women in Gaul stink of animal fat and sweat."

"But you fucked them anyway." She laughed up at him. "Didn't you?"

"After I had them washed twice over, aye! Was your sex slave satisfactory?" he asked her. "Did he keep you entertained enough that you retained your chastity, and did not bring any scandal on my house, my insatiable Cordelia?"

"He is perfect, my lord. Not only does he fuck reasonably well, although nowhere near as well as you do, he has great stamina and is able to take a good whipping."

The tribune laughed. "I am happy to learn my gift was a success, lady."

"You are the perfect husband, Max," Ashley told him. "You are always thinking about me, and your gifts are delightful. I am the happiest woman in Rome. Now tell me," she said as she pressed up again him, "why are you home? I did not expect you for another few months."

"Caesar recalled me. He wished to replace me with one of his sycophants," the tribune replied. "Actually, if the gossip is correct Caesar is fucking the man's wife, and the fool tried to keep her too close. It was a simple matter to send the husband off to northern Gaul so Caesar might have easy access to his favored mistress. I can but hope the fellow doesn't find himself dead." He chuckled. "But now, my dear wife, it is time for you to welcome me home properly. On your knees like a good wife, Cordelia, and suck my cock. If you do it nicely I will fuck you. If you displease me, then I shall fuck one of your pretty slave girls. We have the afternoon, but then we are expected at the palace tonight for a banquet, which will certainly turn into a delightful orgy."