<div class="floatleft">(https://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6oiypDuDl1rs1ef6o1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Canus Naevius Cerinthus<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Provincial Governor of Macedonia Prima<br/><strong>Date | Time:</strong>August 10/Sun beginning to set<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Vestibulum to Atrium<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Sandals/ceremonial dagger on right hip plus This (http://cimarron.wdfiles.com/local--files/rpol-pics/Tunic)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Sabina/Open<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Exposing her beauty<br/><br/>Canus' keen eyes saw within her own all that he desired.  Some slaves were indeed that in all ways, enslaved of soul even more deeply than of body, but as her gaze more and more fully opened herself to his examination, Canus lusted and hungered all the more for the woman.  He was rarely a fan of weakness, even on the battlefield he preferred a worthy foe, and in the almost analogous back and forth of seduction and pleasures given and taken, this young and stunningly attractive creature was proving to be worthy of his every attention, quite fortunate for she had his attentions were already focusing entirely upon her.  He drank from his own wine as she expressed in modesty the leaning of her station, the limits some would place upon her and that society expected of her.  That was part of the dance, and he could see in her eyes that her modesty, though sincere as to her surface being, barely scratched below that glossily beautiful surface to reveal the woman he would have this night.<br/><br/>As she drank and made him wait for her further reply, Canus placed his goblet on the table and licked his lips of the deep red wine that sweetly stained them.  There was power in patience, in having it and imposing it upon another, and his lips curled in rapt appreciation that she knew this.  Free men and women were strong, weak and everything in between, and among those enslaved, he found more both extremes, but very few who resided in the center of that spectrum.  She had offered her modesty, her obligation to be whatever he desired, and yet that was her conundrum, for he desired her to be free in what and whom she chose to share her amply attractive and delicious favors with.<br/><br/>Her dark eyes and sumptuous lips finished their task of sating her thirst and when they returned to favor him with both her gaze and her smile, Canus was pleased and aroused more than any words could express.  She was spirited, and that, as much as her physical charms, claimed his need and wants for her with a powerful magnetism not nearly enough women possessed.<br/><br/>Taking the uneaten half of the honeyed fig she had bitten into from her fingers, Canus brought it not to his own mouth, but to the soft curves of her own lips,<br/><br/>“I desire that in all things you will finish completely that which you start,” he told her in the clear and firmly melodic baritone voice that Canus possessed, adoring the sensuality of feeding a woman, whether a date, his fingers, his own lips and the fullness of his cock, a woman’s lips enticed him almost like no other part of her body…almost.<br/><br/>Turning his head so that her eyes followed his own, he nodded subtly towards Drusilla,<br/><br/>“We are all bound in our own ways, I am simply bound by choice to a woman, one whom I might later gift you to the dizzying charms of…but at the moment, like Bacchus himself my goddess has granted me the freedom to pursue and claim, for a time, that which I desire.  You have looked into my eyes,” Canus told her, his hand sweeping down from her mouth as she took the fig from him, sweeping along the curve of her jaw, then her neck and finally to the shoulder still adorned in the garb chosen for her this night, and with the confident ease of a man who would surely have her this night, he swept the chiton off of her shoulder until it fell softly down her arm, exposing the decadent curves of flesh that the gods had gifted each of her breasts so wonderfully with.<br/><br/>“If I have you in a frenzied and momentary fashion, or draw you off to feast upon your beauty in the gardens for untold hours, I will need to know your name so that I may cry it out in passion and conquest each time we visit the abyss of endless and carnal pleasures this night promises to all,” Canus added as the cool air and his eyes and the eyes of the entire room now fell upon her entirely exposed bosom, allowing her to choose if the garb fell entirely from her body, or if she held it somewhat in place, at least for that moment.  His fingers, in their travel over her body, had touched the cold brilliance of the golden collar that she wore and would wear this entire night. Her body was enslaved to his host, but her desires, those he wanted to claim all for his greedy self, in a way that would make Bacchus himself proud of the hedonism she inspired within him.<br/><br/>