Mikolaus: Seduced by the Gladiators

by Margo Bond Collins

  Mikolaus grinned broadly, eyes sparkling. “Our children are the future. Come and see.” He took her hand. Again his warmth invaded her, keeping the internal fire alive.

  Hannah heard the children’s laughter long before they came to a stop. Mikolaus pushed opened a gate leading to a courtyard surrounded by a stone wall.

  Children of all ages occupied the courtyard. Playing, running, laughing, climbing, hiding. Some smaller children were crying.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Mikolaus asked. He leaned against the wall close to Hannah, again in her personal space, filling her senses with his presence. The timbre of his voice rumbled through her, stirring her desire as it did when she first heard him.

  “I’ve always wanted children,” Hannah said softly. “Propagation is strictly controlled on E2.”

  Frowning, Mikolaus took her hand and led her out of the courtyard, away from the children. Hannah followed, bewildered by his sudden change of expression.

  Have I said something wrong?

  After he’d closed the gate behind them, he spun her around and pushed her gently back against the outer side of the courtyard wall. Then he stepped in front of her, placing his hands on the stones behind her. “Propagation. Is that what you call it?”

  He pressed against her, so close his breath washed over her. Her heart pounded, leaving her breathless. Time stopped, held by expectation as she watched his lips descend toward her. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  His lips touched hers, lightly, a bare brush of flesh to flesh. She inhaled, greedily drawing in the pheromones riding his scent, willing his body to consume her. His lips wandered to kiss each side of her mouth before returning to delve more deeply.

  Hannah parted her lips and leaned into him, drawing him closer. Her arms twined around his neck and she shifted enough to press herself into him. His tongue gently probed her mouth, and she moaned. The heat that had never quite dissipated built up deep in the center of her being, fueled by the feel of his muscles and skin beneath her hands, the solid press of him against her thigh, and the pure desire to take this man—or have him take her.

  Mikolaus broke the kiss. His breath was ragged and loud against her neck. As his breathing slowed, he whispered. “We do not propagate. We share our bodies, honoring the Goddess present in all women, and the gift of life women possess. We worship our women, and our children. But we do not propagate.”

  He stepped back and Hannah saw his dark eyes were glazed with passion. She, too, was intoxicated with all Lurra had to offer. She’d been on a hedonistic binge since arriving. Beautiful clothes. Real food. Gorgeous men worshipping women. It all seemed too good to be true.

  How is this possible? Is the triad responsible?

  “The triad,” she said aloud. “It supports your social and religious beliefs. I want to see how the triad works. Where do Lurrans go when they want to meet a triad?” she asked.

  “You wish to meet another triad?” Mikolaus stepped back and crossed his arms, his brow wrinkling with concern.

  “Oh, no,” Hannah protested. She brought her hands to her face, feeling a burn, realizing what he must be thinking. “No, not me.”

  His scowl only deepened.

  She placed a hand on his arm. “What I meant is―I want to see how the triad society functions. Where do Lurrans meet? What do they do to have fun?”

  The concern eased from Mikolaus’ face and he uncrossed his arms. “Ah, you want to have fun the Lurran way?” he asked. “I know exactly the place.”

  A truly devilish glint lit his eyes, and one corner of his mouth twitched with mischief. The intensity of his gaze made a shiver race down Hannah’s arms.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 8

  “Zerura,” Hannah said. “What does that mean?” They stood in the entryway of Club Zerura, the most decadent explosion of music and alcohol Hannah could ever have imagined possible.

  “It’s from one of the three languages still spoken on Lurra—the second most common. And Zerura means ‘heaven’.”

  “Heaven,” Hannah said. “Define heaven,” she added under her breath. They looked down into a pit, as black as an E2 night—except for strategically placed lighting. A primal beat vibrated heavily enough to seep into Hannah’s bones. Her hips moved back and forth, already addicted to the music.

  Zerura oozed seduction and intoxication.

  “Come,” Mikolaus said. He led her down the stairs and headed to a back wall where there were several quieter tables for two. “Here,” he said. “Where we can talk.”

  Hannah sat in the low chair and lounged with her back to the wall, the spectacle of Zerura before her. There was a designated floor space for couples—or triples or quads—to dance, but women also danced on elevated platforms around the room and on high perches against the wall. Their shockingly revealing costumes, combined with explicit gyrations offered only one suggestion. Hannah’s own simmering tension ratcheted up another notch.

  Bare skin—much more than Hannah’s clothing showed—was the norm in Zerura. She should have been forewarned when her outfit was delivered. A sleeveless, shining, silver tunic was cut low in the front, leaving her chest quite exposed. A black leather girdle cinched in her waist with ties that laced in the back. Her black boots were short with a spiked heel.

  When Mikolaus arrived for her, he looked her up and down. “One thing I would change,” he said softly.

  Hannah looked down. “What can I change? The ensemble arrived as you see it.” She turned around before him to prove her point.

  He drew her to the mirror and stood behind her. “This is what I would change.” He pulled off the tie holding her braid and undid her tresses, then picked up a brush and drew it through her hair until her hair shined and crackled.

  Hannah rarely let her hair loose. Naturally straight, it hung to her waist in a fiery fall of red and gold silk.

  “Now,” he said, looking over her shoulder into the mirror. “Now you are ready to be a true goddess.”

  Having her hair down in public was as foreign to Hannah as bare flesh. She was surprised at how liberating loose hair felt.

  “Kastasha,” Mikolaus said when their drinks arrived. “Made from a Lurran fruit.”

  Hannah eyed the small shot glass with a quick assessment of where this night was headed.

  A hot coal of anticipation settled low in her belly, fed by the music, the dancers, the sheer vitality of Lurra. She picked up her glass. “Salute,” she offered.

  Mikolaus picked up his glass. “To the goddess.”

  Hannah added, “To the triad.”

  She shot the beverage. Tears instantly filled her eyes and she blinked as molten fire coursed down her throat. “Oh,” she squeaked.

  Mikolaus laughed. He clapped her on the back and commanded, “Breathe.”

  Tears streamed from Hannah’s eyes, and she gulped a deep breath. “Whoa, baby,” she gasped, laughing a bit at herself.

  When she regained her equilibrium, she relaxed and let the drink work. She sat back and watched dancers. The interesting combinations intrigued her. “How do they do it?”

  “Do you not know how to do it?” Mikolaus asked. He leaned towards her, his voice low and teasing, his eyes glittering with mischief. He picked up her hand and brought her palm to his lips.

  Hannah’s insides fluttered when he touched her and her heart throbbed with as much expectation as the rest of her body. “I meant the triad,” she said, resisting the double entendre. “How do triads come together?”

  Mikolaus looked around the room. “There,” he motioned.

  At a table, three women were approached by a single man. “He probably is part of a triad and is looking for a single female to introduce to his brothers.” Hannah watched as one of the women smiled and nodded, and the man drew her to the dance floor.

  “And there?” she asked, as a young woman approached a table full of men. “What’s the protocol in that case?”

  Mikolaus tilted his
head, watching the group with interest, gauging the social implications of what he saw. “I don’t think many of those men are matched in triads yet. That particular woman may be more interested in assembling a triad that pleases her, as opposed to marrying into one that’s already complete.”

  “Which is more common?”

  He opened his hand in a kind of shrug. “Before, the men were more likely to form triads first. Now? Many younger women prefer to have more control over their triads.”

  Mikolaus ordered another round. “Did you like the Kastasha?” A smirk lingered at the corner of his mouth.

  Hannah laughed as she threw her hair over her shoulder. Mikolaus’ approval shined in his eyes. He smiled and flashed his teeth, easy and engaging. The giddy sensation filled Hannah’s belly and she was assailed again by the addictive rush of entering uncharted territory.

  Their drinks arrived. This time, Hannah sipped hers with respect.

  “Over there,” Mikolaus nodded with his head toward yet a third group, “is a prospective female meeting her triad.”

  “How does the triad come together—I mean, if the woman doesn’t assemble it?” Hannah asked. The Kastasha was growing on her and she swallowed half her shot.

  “Triad members are inseparable brothers for life and often come together from childhood. Our entire society is built on the quad structure, from government and religion on down. From childhood, we are raised to assume a place in a triad and succeed as a quad. When a triad finds a mate, they marry and become a quad. The brothers have equal standing.”

  “What about children? How do you know who the father is?”

  “Why would that matter? Every triad brother is father to the children.”

  Her eyes roamed to the dance floor again, where a couple danced like Hannah had never seen before. Just watching them made her mouth dry and her insides all but cry out with longing.

  She saw the drink servitor and ordered another round.

  Mikolaus was silent, save for his raised eyebrows. When the drinks came, he lifted his glass.

  Hannah was warm from the Kastasha—and from Mikolaus’s presence. The beat of the music coursed through her veins, tugging at her hips and her feet, making her want to move. She stood and picked up her glass. “To Lurra,” she said. Her hips swayed from side to side, her feet stepping in time.

  Mikolaus stood and shot his glass of Kastasha.

  Hannah followed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and held her hand out to Mikolaus. “Dance with me,” she said. “Like that.”

  He led her to a space on the floor. “Give me your hands,” he said. When he held hers, he added, “Step closer.”

  A thrill of pure, wanton desire ripped through Hannah. She stepped in until her groin pressed against Mikolaus, imitating the other dancers.

  “Now lightly step, rotating the hips side to side, always staying connected,” Mikolaus instructed.

  Hannah smiled at his tutorial manner, for his solid shaft pressing against her body said more. She sighed and let her head roll back. Mikolaus leaned forward and kissed her neck, sending more shivers through her limbs.

  He laced his fingers with hers, his face was close enough for his deepening breath to fan her ear. The rock-hard length of him pushed against her.

  I want him inside me.

  Chapter 9

  Hannah placed her lips on his neck and whispered. “Where do people go when they meet here?” She stood up on her tiptoes, holding herself tightly against him, sliding the front of her hips down his hardness through their clothes.

  “Hannah,” Mikolaus breathed harshly into her ear. “Stop that and give me a chance to speak.”

  Hannah smiled. At the almost pained sound of his voice, her nipples hardened.

  He halted the dance step, but held her close, his breath ragged in Hannah’s ear but slowly returning to normal.

  I don’t want his breathing to slow.

  She slipped her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest and playing her fingers along the top of his spine. Another hitch in his breath rewarded her.

  He kissed her neck. “There are rooms,” he whispered. “We don’t use them lightly. They’re for triads and prospective singles.”

  She asked, “A single woman will start with one member of the triad, right?” She pulled a hand free and placed that palm against Mikolaus’ chest over his heart. “I would start with you.”

  In her erotically charged fugue, Hannah heard her conscience whispering to her: You are stepping way out of line.

  I don’t care.

  Her dismal life on E2 could never hold her again. She was suddenly alive and flowing with a vital force that demanded her attention―demanded consummation.

  “Now,” she said.

  Mikolaus pulled her from the dance floor, stopping at the long bar lining the back wall, where he spoke to the bartender. They drank another shot of Kastasha, and Hannah swayed with the music. The primal beat vibrated all the way through her while the wordless vocals of the Lurran music stirred her heart.

  Mikolaus reached for her hand, and they walked from the pit of Zerura through a series of halls lined with doors. He stopped, pulled a key from his pocket and opened a door.

  Hannah strode in. It was a spacious room with a bed even larger than the one she slept in. She peeked through another door and saw a bath with a mirror. In the corner opposite the bed was a small food preparation station.

  She opened the door to the bath wide, stepped in, took a deep breath and began loosening the laces of her girdle.

  Mikolaus came behind her and took over the task.

  “Do you think you are rushing this a little?” he asked.

  “Is this not what you hoped for?” Hannah responded. They stood before the mirror, watching each other.

  He pulled her hair to one side and kissed her neck. “You have yet to meet my brothers. Normally, you would meet all of the triad before initiating a sexual relationship.” The laces came loose and the girdle slipped away.

  “Are there no sexual liaisons that don’t lead to marriage on Lurra?”

  Mikolaus froze. “There are,” he acknowledged. “Mostly among the young. But I am … past that.”

  Hannah leaned forward over the counter and pushed back against Mikolaus. He was hard and ready against her ass. In the mirror, she gazed into his eyes. “Will I want your brothers? Will they want me as you do?”

  She turned around to face him, pulling herself up until she sat on the counter. Hiking her tunic up, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him as close to her as possible.

  “I see what you have here on Lurra and I know I can never go back to Earth-2.” She shrugged and smiled, not at all bittersweet, but with an infectious joy. “Once you have seen a rainbow, can you live without ever seeing one again?”

  She gazed at his chest, the enticement of smooth skin and solid muscle bulging beneath, and kissed the warm flesh over his beating heart. “Once you have touched beauty, how can you not want to touch it every day?”

  Crossing her arms and grasping her tunic at the hem, Hannah drew it over her head. She wore only the gossamer-thin undergarments that did nothing to cover her dark nipples. Below, she could feel herself wet already. She pulled on Mikolaus’ tunic until he helped her, pulling it over his head to join hers on the floor.

  Hannah rubbed her palms over his beautifully sculpted chest. “I will never walk on E2 again, never eat their food, or live by their rules.” She leaned forward and took one of his nipples in her mouth. She sucked and licked, drawing the rough of her tongue across his sensitive flesh.

  Mikolaus inhaled sharply, breathing it out on a slight moan. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her hips, pulling off her underwear.

  “Do you think I’m a potential prospect for your triad?” Hannah asked. She unlaced his pants and pushed them down over his hips to fall and pool at his feet. Before her, his hard flesh begged for attention. She wrapped her hand around him.

&
nbsp; Mikolaus put his hands on the counter on either side of her and kicked free of his clothes, panting. Hannah stroked up and down his full length. His skinwas burning hot—she could already feel his heat penetrating her.

  “My brothers would worship you.” He pulled her forward and caressed her opening with his fingers, his thumb stroking her clit in slow circles. “We would love you equally.”

  Hannah was on the edge of the counter. She tingled with the anticipation of Mikolaus entering her. She wet her fingers and stroked the head of his cock.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, placing one hand between her breasts and pushing her back to lean against the mirror. Then he slid his hands under her ass and lifted her, just enough to bring her to his mouth, his tongue following the same path his thumb had traced moments ago.

  She would’ve thought she couldn’t get any wetter, but every circle of his tongue proved her wrong. In mere moments, she was writhing under his touch, begging him incoherently to take her.

  In response, Mikolaus shifted their positions enough so that her legs draped over his shoulders, granting his mouth ever more access to her. His hands slid up her back until he was all but holding her suspended before him, centimeters off the countertop.

  When he sank his tongue deep inside her, then drew it up and out to flick it across her clit, she cried out.

  “More,” she managed to say, and Mikolaus obliged. The feel of his arms holding her steady even as he made love to her with his mouth pulled her to the very edge, where she hovered for a few seconds until he pulled her clit into his mouth and gently sucked on it as he laved it with his tongue.

  Hannah shattered into a million pieces—none of them willing to ever leave this man, or his planet, again.

  * * *

  After a few moments, Hannah opened her eyes to find Mikolaus watching her with that dark-eyed gaze of his.

  Gently, as if she were made of the glass she’d so nearly resembled minutes before, he sat her up again on the counter.

  He’d seemed hard and ready before, but that was nothing compared to now. Although she wouldn’t have believed it possible, Hannah felt another bolt of desire shoot through her.