Carrick was pleased at his new slave's response. Her body was pliant and willing under his touch, her mouth sweetly opening to him in willing submission. She was proving to be a more than worthwhile purchase.
Gratified by her immediate obedience, he reversed the stem of the rose in his hand and gently pressed the point of a thorn into the soft skin of Grace's wrist. Deliberately selecting one of the longest and thinnest thorns so as to cause her minimum discomfort, he waited until a bead of glittering blood welled before lifting it to his lips. She tasted of honey, so sweet and rich on his tongue. His eyes closed in pleasure for moment before he looked at Grace again.
"I couldn't choose between them," he said. "I evidently need to make a more thorough study." He leaned forwards, taking in the soft honeysuckle scent of her hair. "I want you in my bed tonight, Grace." His eyes ran over her body, still clad in the thin slip in which she had been auctioned. Why wait any longer? "Now, in fact."
He stood and held out his hand for hers in order to lead her back to the house.