Excerpt from Serame's Gift
Alone in her chamber, Serame undid the pouch and set her nose to it. To her delight and surprise the fresh, sweet scent of the avoile flower rose from within.
The cream colored powder was as fine as pepper. She rubbed it gently between her fingers before she spread the first lick of it across her collarbone. Her skin tingled as though warmed by the sun. As she faced the golden mirror with her fingers hovering over the swell of her breasts, she whispered, "Do your magic."
She ran her finger over one breast feeling the nipple grow hard beneath her touch. Slowly, she dipped her finger into the leather bag and cupped her other breast, gently squeezing and rubbing the nipple. As her hands slid her across her stomach and slithered over her thighs, she imagined it was Pol's hands tracing themselves over her skin, warming her.
The aroma of the flower filled her senses. She felt light headed from the smell, from the itch of desire, from the growing wetness between her legs.
She started at her reflection. Was the hardness in her eyes fear or desire? Were her nipples erect from her own touch or from the thought of Pol? Was the blush on her skin from the potion or from something else burning deep within?
She ran her hands down her stomach to her mound. The smooth curls of her hair tickled her palm as her heartbeat set itself to a cantor. She ran one finger over the wetness of her sex. The dark urge surfaced making her feel like she was toppling into a cave where anything was possible.
The wind battered the balcony doors, startling her. She dropped her hand and crept to the bed. Unlike the night before, sleep was soon upon her and with it came dreams of Pol.