She carefully thumbed through a small stack of photographs, propping them around the items so that she could inspect the images at her leisure. They were simply more mementos of her conquests, but looking at them made the itch swell yet again.
She felt her hand slipping between her thighs as if by its own volition, and she knew it was time. Consciously stopping the hand before it could go any farther, she allowed herself an anticipatory sigh.
She reached up to the bureau and picked up the miniature bottle of rum. With a flourish she twisted the cap from it then pressed the opening against her lips and tilted her head back. She quickly swished the caramel-colored liquor around in her mouth, letting its alcohol-burn tingle for a brief moment, and then carefully spit it into a shot glass. She gently placed the glass jigger directly in the center of the assorted items. With a soft touch she fingered a partially smoked cigar, which still possessed a band proclaiming Cohiba and that was underscored by the word Habana -true Cuban contraband. She rolled it back to rest against the measure of rum and then allowed herself a fleeting, girlish smile.
As she looked up, she listened intently to the room. She could hear her slave’s breathing from his position on the floor behind her. He was finally settling into an even rhythm as he continued to come down from the rapid sexual high she’d inflicted. She looked straight into the mirror and flipped a shock of her waist-length auburn hair back over her shoulder then carefully turned her head side to side, checking her makeup. With the tip of her finger, she made a practiced swipe against the corner of her lower lip, blending a spot she felt needed attention. Then, she inspected it again before letting out a satisfied sigh.