Eating Cleopatra (1) *

"Perhaps," she said with a shrug, her golden earrings swaying gently as she moved. "Perhaps not. But if I had to choose between the two of you right now... to share that first, to offer what I've never offered any man…"

She stepped even closer, her voice a whisper that danced with fire.

"I would choose you."

I stared at her—longer than I should have.

It wasn't merely because Cleopatra recognized something hidden within me, something raw and unshaped, a potential yet to be forged. No, there was more. Her gaze lingered on me not with the cold calculation of a ruler, but with the unmistakable heat of a woman drawn toward a man. And I could feel it—sense it in the air between us like the charged silence before a storm.