欧宝娱乐

“Slave, my hands are sticky. Come, wash them. Bring the perfumed water." Passia waved at me with a finger slick with honey. She was radiant, lying on the couch next to Helene. Both were dressed in new stolae that Aelia had gifted them for the holiday.
I grinned and rushed forward with the basin and a towel. "Permission to speak," I asked her as I took her sticky hand in mine.
She smirked. "Permission granted."
I slowly ran the damp towel across each slender finger. I kept my voice low so only she could hear. "Later, my dear Domina, I would be delighted to wash you in private."
She raised an eyebrow at me. "I think you will have to prove yourself first, boy."
I bowed in front of her, my head on the tiles. "I will do anything you require, Domina."
"Good. Now fetch me some more honey fritters. And you will clean my hands again, when I call for you."
I winked at her. "Yes, Domina. Anything for you."
That night our lovemaking tasted sweeter than all the honey in Iberia.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow

“When I returned from the triclinium, where the guests were finishing their honey cakes and drinking from jeweled goblets of pear juice, a woman entered the kitchen from a side door.
Out of all the surprises I'd had that day, she was the most surprising of all. The vision of her dark eyes, waves of auburn curls, and the sylphlike curve of her hips would haunt me in the days to come.
"I came for Apicata's meal," she said. Her voice floated across the room, undulations of sound washing over my skin. This was the woman Aelia had said would come for the tray. Passia. The name glittered in my mind as I made the connection.
"Is that it?" She pointed, one long finger tipped with carefully curved, pink-pale nails. I had been standing like a statue, stunned by my close proximity to what I thought might be the physical manifestation of Venus herself.
"That's the plate, yes, over there. There." Suddenly I wished she would leave. If not, all would be lost. I wouldn't be able to complete the cena, wouldn't be able to direct the servers, and would end up under the lash as the result of my gloomy failure to live up to Apicius's expectations. Inside my head, I said a prayer to Venus that Passia would go, but in the same breath, I begged the goddess that Passia would remember me, as I knew I would remember every sumptuous detail about the moments she stood before me.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow

“When I saw the flash of her stola in the entryway, my heart would beat like a temple drum.
Passia! Her name was a song in my mind. Whenever she came into the kitchen I thought I might faint with desire. Everything about her was perfect. Her long auburn hair was perfect against her tanned skin. Her eyes were a perfect ebony brown, her wrists perfect and delicate, her voice a melody that I wished I could hear every waking moment of my life.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow

“Pepper, dr, dri, dried onion, cumin, love, love, love..." She fought to say the word lovage.
In our practice, I would have helped her finish the word, but at that moment, hearing her say what I was feeling was almost too much for me to bear.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow

“So many things had gone well for me since I'd come to Baiae from Maximus's villa in Pompeii. Apicius increasingly turned to me for advice on his affairs, even outside the kitchen. Aelia and Apicata had become as close as family. The kitchen slaves respected me and worked hard to gain both my favor and Apicius's. My love for Passia had bloomed in the sun of this festive town. Truly, I thought, I had found a form of Elysium here in Baiae, made all the more sweet by the fact that at any time it could have been swept away-”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow