I’m going to take my sisters and run. Out of the four of us, when we put our heads together, we’ll figure out a way to get back home, to go back to our lives. I do know that I won’t be hanging out around here forever, not with the asshole that is my soon-to-be husband.
“I’m ready,” I exhale.
TIBERIUS
I prepare for the nuptials quickly, throwing on my ceremonial robe as the pontifex maximus prattles on about why we should not leave to go to Curia without at least him there as my guide. I do not wish to have a guide, I wish to have my men with me, my brothers. They will protect me, and Felix of course, he is always my faithful guide.
It doesn’t take long for Marcellus to bring the women into my office. Blinking, it is hard for me to hide my reaction. Drucilla is stunningly beautiful. She is a natural beauty, but in her blue gown, her eyes look even more violet, her hair is a work of art in and of itself.
She makes her way toward me, her head held high and her chin jutted outward. She looks proud and breathtaking. She looks like an empress.
Holding out my hand to her, I am surprised when she easily slips her palm in mine. Immediately the pontifex maximus begins the shortened ceremony. There is no reason for a show, nobody is here to see it other than my family.
The pontifex maximus provides the documents for us to sign and Marcellus explains that this is our marriage contract, the paperwork that provides documentation that we are indeed legally wed.
A bond that cannot and will not ever be broken.
Shifting to Marcellus, I hold out my hand and he slips the rings into my hand. Facing Drucilla again, I wait for the instruction to slip the ring on her finger. It is nothing grand, not the like of which she should have as the Empress of Savona.
The gold band is topped with a violet jewel, one of the riches of my land. The fact that it matches her eyes is not lost on me.
Smiling down at Drucilla, my empress, I take a step closer toward her. She tilts her head back, her eyes locking with mine. I wonder what she thinks of my monstrous face. The hideousness that makes me the man that she is now married to.
Dipping my chin, I bend slightly as I cup her cheeks with my palms. Touching my lips to hers, I try not to moan at the sensation of her mouth on mine. It has been mere hours, but it has felt like a lifetime since her lips touched any part of me.
She gasps, then I feel her lips part and my tongue slides inside of her, penetrating her just the way my mentula will in a few moments. My family cheer for us, which is the only reason that I do not pick her up right here and plant her culus on my desk and slam inside of her, planting my seed, again.
With a grunt, I take a step away from her. She whispers something. I look into her eyes, unsure of what she has said and wishing that I could understand her yet again. She smiles sadly, then shakes her head before she withdraws.
Turning to my family, I take her hand in mine and hold our combined hands together in the air between us. The ceremony is not over, not yet. Clearing my throat, I smile at the few people in the world that I do indeed love.
“Marcellus,” I call out.
He was not just in charge of the rings, he has an even more important duty. I wait for him to gather what he needs, then he returns and hands me the crown. I am already wearing mine, it is part of my ceremonial attire, something that I am supposed to wear daily, but I hate, so I don’t.
Dipping my chin to my brother, I take the gold-leafed crown in my hands. Turning to Drucilla, I watch as her eyes widen. Slowly, I place the crown on her head.
“Empress Drucilla Quirinus of Savona,” I announce.
Her eyes are wide, her lips parted in awe and I have to wonder if when I told her she was to be empress if she did not realize it was the truth. If she did not understand that she is the Empress of Savona, the woman who rules at my side.
Wrapping her hand in mine, I begin to walk out of the room. It is late, I am tired and we are to leave on the morrow, early. Before leaving my office, I turn to Marcellus and Brutus.
“We leave at first light,” I announce. “Bring the famulus.”
Shifting my gaze to the famulus, I look down my nose at her. “Pack your empress’ trunks,” I snap.
I don’t take Drucilla back to our room, instead I take her to the quarters that I’ve been staying in since her arrival. Once we walk over the threshold, I close the door behind me. My bride stands in front of me, her dress slit to her thigh, her wide violet gaze focused on me, and her chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing.
Taking a step toward her, I advance, not bothering to speak to her, knowing that she would not understand me anyway. Our words do not matter, just this moment between us, the way her body feels against my own.
The fact that she is now my empress—that is all that matters.
When I am directly in front of her, I reach out, sliding my fingertips up the slit in her gown, feeling her soft skin all the way up to her thigh. I hear her soft whispered exhale and watch as her eyes slowly close.
Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers, the small move so sacred, only meant for her and nobody else—my empress.
“You will be the death of me, Tiberius,” she breathes, though I do not understand any of her words.
Nibbling on her bottom lip, I only grunt. “You are mine now, melculum. Mine for eternity.”
Chapter Twelve
DRUCILLA
Tiberius’ rough fingers on my skin, they feel amazing, even more so than they did earlier and I think it’s because I can finally see him—all of him. I am still in awe of how attractive that I find him, even with the huge scars running across his handsome face. He’s not perfect at all, and yet, my body aches for him.
He slips his hand from my hip to between my legs and I let my head fall back with a sigh as soon as his fingers glide through my folds. His thumb quickly finds my clit and he begins to torture me deliciously.
Reaching down between us, I shift his skirt up and find his hard length. Slowly, I stroke him as he does me, reading him just as he is doing for me. He clenches his jaw, then takes a step back, just when we’re both close. I was kind of hoping for a little fun this way before we got to business, but it seems my new husband only wants business.
Climbing onto the bed, I reach for my gown and start to tug it up, when he growls loudly and shakes his head. My eyes wide as my lips part.
The Emperor wants to fuck his Empress in her ceremonial gown.
Nice.
Biting the corner of my lip, I watch as he removes his clothes and I have to admit, he looks a hell of a lot better naked than he does clothed. His chest is fantastic, he’s broad and muscular, he is downright beautiful.
He closes the distance between us, his eyes darkening with each step that he takes. He arrives at the side of the bed and I want nothing more than to kiss down his chest and take him in my mouth. I don’t, remembering the couple of times I tried and he seemed to get angry and didn’t let me.
His hands span my waist and I feel so incredibly dainty with this gigantic man. My breath hitches when his palms slide down my ass, gripping me before his fingers wrap around the backs of my thighs and he flips me onto my back.
Without a moment to even breathe, to realize what’s happening, he’s buried deep inside of me, to the root. His face is tipped down as he stands at the side of the bed. Slowly, he bends slightly, his palms planting next to my head, his arms straight as he begins to move.
He doesn’t move slowly. He fucks me. There is no other word for the action in this moment. It is hard thrust after hard thrust and I don’t mind. He feels fantastic and with each thrust, he grinds down just enough that it brings me higher and higher toward my release.
I’m panting, on edge, and ready to scream and cry—to beg for an end to my aching misery when I finally feel his thumb between us.
My blood is boiling, my breathing coming out in hard pants, my body is practically humming with need. I have never felt like this before, not even the last few times that I was with him.
This is bigger, this is more, this is unbearable.
Tears fill my eyes, they begin to flow at the same time the buzzing grows stronger. Reaching up, I wrap my fingers around his biceps and dig my nails into his skin. He grunts, his thrusts unchanging, they are hard and perfect.
When I come, it doesn’t just take over my body, it takes over my entire being. I cry out, my body trembling and shaking, my muscles tightening everywhere. Tiberius thrusts a few more times before he lets out a loud grunt and buries himself deep inside of me, his cock twitching with his own release.
I expect him to pull out of me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he bends his elbows, his cock still buried inside of me as he lowers down and then his lips gently brush my own. He murmurs something against my mouth, ending it in what I now realize is a pet name of some kind for me, melculum.
Sliding my tongue along his bottom lip, I whisper something that I shouldn’t. I’m just glad that he cannot understand me.
“I don’t know how I ended up with you, but I’m not sorry. Not at all. I should be. I want to go home, but if I can never get back there, I’m glad that I’m married to you, Tiberius. Even if all of this, including you, scares the shit out of me.”
He grunts, touching his mouth to mine again. Only then does he gently pull out of me before he stands. My legs are hanging over the side of the bed as I push up on my elbows and watch him take a few steps back.
He holds out one of his hands and I slip my palm in his. He tugs me to my feet then immediately reaches for my ropes and begins to untie them. He doesn’t even bring my gown over my head, he tugs the wide neck off of my shoulders and I look down as it pools around my feet.
Next, he extends his hands and reaches for my crown. I hate that he has to take it off, but I allow it because I’m exhausted. I watch as he turns and sets it down on a small table before he turns back to me.
He jerks his chin toward the bed. Taking the hint, and loving it, because I’m tired as hell, I climb into the bed. I frown, because it’s seriously not as comfortable as the other one, and I wonder why we can’t sleep there. The room is so much nicer and the bed, a million times more comfortable.
But then, it doesn’t matter, because he gathers me in his arms and picks me up, placing me against his chest. No, not just against his chest, he forces me to lie completely along his body. He’s super muscular, so he’s not all that comfortable, but I find that I don’t mind too much. In fact, I fall asleep in just seconds.
TIBERIUS
I watch as the boats are loaded. Felix neighs as he’s being taken to the animal ship. No doubt thinking that he has the right to be with me on my ship. I call out to him, but he ignores me. He’s angry and I can’t blame him. He’s yet to meet my empress and I haven’t been to see him the past week as much as I usually would. He will be fine and he’ll get his time with me and with Drucilla when we arrive on Curia.
Speaking of my bride, I hear her in the distance, though I don’t hear her voice or even her footsteps, I hear her breath. Turning around, I look over my shoulder and see her in the distance.
Snapping my brows together, I’m unsure how I can hear her actual breathing. She is so far away that I can hardly see anything other than her shape moving in the rising sunlit morning as she makes her way through the woods to the beach.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I concentrate and it’s still there. She is still breathing as she walks. It is her too, there is no other sound quite like hers. That breathing I hear when she finds her release, when she sleeps next to me, when she is anywhere near me and apparently when she is far as well.
Shaking my head once, I shift my gaze over to Marcellus. “You’ll keep the country running while I’m away?” I ask.
He dips his chin, then his gaze finds mine. “I wish you would not go. I do not have a good feeling about any of this, frater.”
Clearing my throat, my gaze catches his. “All will be well, Marcellus. The gods have started this and they do not make mistakes.”
“Do they not?” he interrupts.
I think back to the fables and stories that I have heard over my childhood years, and he is not wrong. It seems as though there have been a fair share of issues and problems that were caused by the hands of the gods.
“Perhaps they were not mistakes? Perhaps the gods knew what they were doing and it was as it had been meant to be.”
Marcellus grunts. “This is what people say in order to feel better about everything bad that happens. They push it off on the gods, then say that the gods meant for it to happen just this way. As if there was something bigger in play.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze focused on mine. Taking a step toward him, I lift my hand and clamp my fingers around his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “Drucilla would not be here without the gods making it so. The prophecy, no matter what it is meant to achieve, would not be in play without them. This was all orchestrated by the gods and whatever their bigger plan is. I can do nothing, but attempt to follow the path they have laid out for me.”
“That path includes love for your wife, Tib.”
I don’t answer him immediately, but I know what he is inferring and I know that he is correct. The past is supposed to include love, something that I am unable to give. Something that will no doubt affect the path of the prophecy. I must prepare for this, and I must prepare my people for this as well.
“Use this trip, this time, to open up to her. If you believe that the gods have laid this path for you, for her, for this prophecy. Then, open up to your chosen, fated, mulier, Tiberius. You have no other choice. You are married now, joined and never to be separated.”
Marcellus doesn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, he turns and leaves me standing on the beach. I hear someone approach, but don’t even have to look to see who it is walking up behind me. Instead, I survey the ships being loaded.
Dipping my chin, my gaze travels over to the animal ship, which also includes all of the servis and for the first time, I wonder what my mulier thinks about the duties of the servis. The duties that are not spoken about.
“I would think her views may not align with yours,” Brutus announces from behind me.
With a jerk, I turn around to see him grinning at me. “How did you know what I was thinking?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder. “You were staring hard. I could see what you were looking at and guessed at the thoughts swimming around in your head. I know you well enough, cousin.”
“Tullia minds?” I ask, curiosity swimming through my veins.
His eyes find mine and he grins as he watches me for a moment. “Tullia minds if I am at home, yes.”
“When you aren’t?”
“She knows what happens at war, has absolutely nothing to do with her or what we share. She does not ask and I do not tell.”
“You don’t have your servi service you with their mouths when you’re at home?” I ask, raising a brow.
Brutus shakes his head slowly. “I do not.”
My brows rise in surprise. “Tullia?”
He snorts, continuing to shake his head. “It is not what we do, Tiberius, this you know. However, rules are not the same when we go to an orgia.”
“They never are,” I murmur.
“They are what we make them and we agree ahead of time how we wish to spend our time there. This is what works for us, it does not work for all.”
Drucilla appears at my side a few moments later and the conversation is cut short. Although she cannot understand me, the conversation is still not meant for her ears. I jerk my chin up to Brutus and turn to face my empress. She is dressed warmly for travel, her crown firmly in place. Tipping my chin down, I smile at her and she returns the smile.
“Famulus,” I call out to her nameless servi. She stops and dips her chin, waiting for her instruction. “You will stay on the ship with your empress to act as her interpreter.”
She doesn’t speak, but she lifts her gaze to meet mine and her eyes widen i
n surprise. Obviously, she was not expecting this. I chuckle to myself before I turn and head toward the ship to begin the final inspection before we take off.
Chapter Thirteen
DRUCILLA
It’s beautiful. I thought that it was gorgeous where we were, but now that we are pulling the boats ashore this witches’ island, I am taken aback. It’s stunning. I don’t know that words can express what it is like, the actual raw beauty that all of this holds.
Maybe it’s even prettier because I’m falling for the man standing next to me and everything seems to be just a touch better in the world. I dare to say that I am possibly falling in love with him, but I refuse to actually think the words, let alone say them. I don’t want them to be real, I don’t want any of this to be real.
So, I focus on the landscape and I must admit that it is worthy of my focus. There is a huge mountain with a tall peak in the distance, surrounded by trees and foliage, all the same colors as the ones where Tiberius lives and yet there is something mystical about this place, I can feel it.
“The magic is strong here,” Laurentia whispers.
Turning my head, I’m actually surprised to see her standing next to me. She has been pretty sparse on this boating trip. I haven’t asked where she’s been, she pops up every now and again and each time she looks a little worse for the wear.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer, instead, she looks forward, her eyes glassed over a bit. She only shakes her head, then lifts her hand and points directly ahead. “The witches live in that mountain at the top,” she whispers.
“How do you know?” I ask.
Laurentia rips her gaze from the mountain to look over at me. Her gaze finds mine and holds it. “You cannot feel it?” she asks.
I can feel it. I don’t tell her that, though. I want to hear how she knows. “The purple clouds that encircle the top, it’s where they live, their protection from the outside forces.”
Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) Page 9
