My Wicked Gladiators

by Hawkeye, Lauren

  Marcus kept his hands as they were, splayed on the mound of my stomach.

  “It goes against everything that I am, to dishonor my dominus by my behavior.” I knew, though he would never have said it, that the opposite did not apply, that he did not consider it dishonorable for his dominus to order him to sleep with his domina. It was not how Caius’ mind worked. “But I find that . . . that I no longer care. So long as it brings you happiness.”

  He waited for me to reply, but I could find no words. I began to shake, I was so overwhelmed.

  I knew that the joy could not last forever, but I would take it, so long as it was available.

  “It brings me happiness.” I smiled at him, all traces of my earlier anger and resentment gone. In their place was a playfulness, one nearly as potent as the beginnings of arousal that were creeping over me. “It would bring me more happiness still if you would remove your subligaculum.”

  Unlike Marcus when he was pleased, Caius allowed his entire face to break into a wide, devious smile. With what could only be termed as a playful leer, he reached for the strings of his leathers, cursing while fumbling with the knot.

  Once naked, he crawled eagerly atop of me, causing Marcus to protest.

  “Be careful.” He snapped the words, but there was no real anger in them, just irritation. He hauled me closer to his side, his hands wrapped protectively over my stomach.

  Caius merely smiled at him, then bent down to kiss me, his lips eager now that he had made up his mind.

  I was so happy, so full of emotion that I let myself stop thinking, stop analyzing, stop wondering what they were thinking and feeling in turn. I let myself be swept away on the bliss.

  Caius continued to kiss me, his tongue teasing my mouth open. He tasted of figs and honeyed wine, and I drank in the sweetness.

  From behind me Marcus’ arms tightened. I murmured, not in protest but in enjoyment. I loved being held in his arms, loved having the bands of muscle hot against my skin.

  I did not like that I could not reach him, however. When Caius paused to take in a ragged breath, I wiggled until I lay on my back, Marcus’ arms still tight around me, and reached up to pull his head down for another kiss.

  His lips did not taste of fruit, but rather of salt, as they had the first time I had had them against my own. I remembered what he had looked like, my first sight of that golden warrior standing so sternly by my bath, and felt myself begin to soften inside.

  We continued that way for several long, drugging minutes. I would explore the mouth of one, then the other until I was breathless. I pushed both away momentarily, though they remained hovering just above me, Caius half sprawled atop me, Marcus bent at the waist.

  Their heads were close, so close. One mere whisper and their skin would touch.

  I wanted it. I wanted them to be together, while they were with me.

  I could not ask. I did not know how.

  So I bit my lower lip, drawing it between my teeth and pressing down, watching, evaluating the intensity of the intimacy that vibrated between them.

  Marcus cast a sidelong glance at me, and I remembered that he would not do anything unless I asked him to. Since words were stuck in my suddenly dry throat, I simply nodded, hoping that that would be enough, that that would signal to him my acquiescence.

  The moment stretched out, far too long for my liking, then the two men—my two men—erased the last whisper of space and pressed their lips together.

  Never before had I seen something that I found so innately, completely sexual. The image of those two golden heads, one slighter darker, one the color of sunshine, made my mouth water.

  I wanted not just to touch these men, not just to fuck them. I wanted to possess them, wanted to be possessed.

  Their kiss was soft, hesitant. Not at all like the one that I had so illicitly watched in Marcus’ quarters.

  I wanted them to release all of the passion that they had for each other, that passion that I had seen them share. I wanted to mix it with the intensity of my feelings for them, wanted an explosion of desire. I was not sure how to ask for this, either.

  I had no idea what to do with two men at once.

  My uncertainty must have played out over my face. I found myself again lifted in Marcus’ arms. This time I did not protest. I melted into his heat, and let him do as he would.

  He sat down on the bed again, very gracefully considering that his arms were full of me. Pressing his back against the chilly stone wall, he arranged my pliant limbs so that I sat in between his legs, my back to his front. His rigid cock pressed against the small of my back, and his arms wrapped snugly around my waist.

  Before those arms wrapped, though, his hands slid down my sides, over my hips, and between my thighs. I cried out in shock, not expecting to be touched there, not yet, but all he did was to push my legs apart, far apart.

  Caius quickly positioned himself between my spread legs. He lay on his front, supported on his forearms, and I could see the cords of muscle straining against the apricot-colored skin.

  I could also feel the hot whisper of his breath on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I very nearly laughed, for it tickled, a bit, but more than that, it drew blood there, right to the very center of my cunt.

  I waited, my breath held in my lungs. A moment later, the touch came, the touch of moist lips on the same skin that his breath had so recently caressed.

  His lips trailed up, brushing kisses over my skin, soothing the places that the rasp of his beard scratched. He had not shaved since we had arrived, but I loved the feeling of the bristles against my skin.

  Even more, I loved the feeling of his tongue on my clitoris when he parted my folds with one hand and licked me.

  My back arched, pressing my hips back against Marcus. He groaned at the sudden pressure on his cock. I rocked my hips back again, just to hear his voice, before again being swept away in the sensations between my legs.

  Caius swiped his tongue through my lower lips again and again, circling my clitoris, which the fingers that spread me wide helped to fully expose. When I was gasping and writhing, he thrust his tongue inside without warning, causing several small spasms to rock through my body.

  After the first small quake receded and I lay boneless, Caius replaced his tongue with a finger, thrusting in and out of my hot, tight channel. As he did, Marcus moved his hands from my waist to cup my breasts, his thumbs strumming over nipples that had grown larger in the past weeks, larger, darker and more sensitive.

  The sensations were exquisite. I had never before felt the touch of so many hands, not all at once, and it was very nearly too much. I rocked back against Marcus, my head shaking violently from side to side, though I was not sure if I wanted more or if I needed the onslaught to stop.

  Caius’ finger found a place deep inside of me that caused my cunt to clench down on his hand. I tensed all over, not expecting the sensation. I even tried to pull back, again not sure if I loved it or if it was too much, but I had nowhere to go, not with the solid wall of Marcus at my back and Caius’ mouth and hands at my front.

  Caius persisted, pressing down again on the spot buried deep inside of me. My entire body clenched, but he removed his finger before I could again quake.

  I shouted out loud at the loss of sensation. He merely smiled, the smile of a wicked god frolicking with a mortal. Rising to his hands and knees, he crawled up my body and straddled both my legs and Marcus’.

  The sight of that tangle of limbs did funny things to my insides. It felt right, the three of us together. Tilting my head back, I kissed the only spot on Marcus that I could reach, the hollow of his neck, and in return, he squeezed my breasts once before releasing them.

  He placed his hands where Caius’ had been, rubbing a finger between the slick folds, rubbing over the nub of my clitoris. I felt an answering gush of moisture and was sighing with pleasure w
hen Caius placed the head of his cock at the entrance of that wet cunt and pushed in, just the littlest bit.

  I pushed back, wanting him to hilt himself in me. His face a study in concentration, he held back, moving inside of me at his own pace, which was maddeningly slow.

  Marcus rubbed my clitoris with one thumb, and with his other hand made a ring of fingers through which Caius had to pass to thrust inside of me. It added pressure for both of us, and I saw sweat begin to bead on the forehead of the gladiator inside of me.

  I wanted Marcus to feel what I felt, too. Reaching behind me awkwardly, I clasped the tip of his cock in my palm, and rubbed my fingers over the head of it. It was sticky, weeping, and swollen.

  “Just relax.” I looked up as Marcus spoke and found his eyes fogged with lust. He did not need my hand, it seemed, and I understood why when he began to thrust against my back in time with Caius’ movements. Both moved in at the same time, then away in the off-beat. Marcus’ cock nudged its way into the crevice of my ass, sliding up and down in the flesh there, and I could hear his breath begin to come faster.

  My world became the two men whose flesh was melded so intimately with mine. The speed with which we rocked together increased, but only the slightest bit, as if we all were trying to savor this moment, this first time that we three had been together.

  I felt the rolling waves begin to pull me under once again. I was helpless to do anything but let the feeling take me where it would. I felt my cunt clench around Caius’ engorged cock, felt him respond. One more thrust, two, and he pushed into me as hard as he could, and I felt liquid warmth flood between my thighs.

  As though our pleasure had transferred through my flesh to him, I felt Marcus move behind me, against me, the thrusts more erratic than they had been. The skin of his erection pulled at the skin of my back, a different feeling entirely from having a cock in my cunt, but still good, so good. Finally he moaned, and I felt another rush of wet, this time over the small of my back. It ran down, raining over my flesh, creating a mess, but I did not care.

  We lay there, the three of us, languid and as liquid as the pools of wax from the melting candles that surrounded us. For a long moment my mind was empty of all thought; I was simply full of happiness.

  I must have fallen into a light sleep, for when I woke I was snuggled in between two long, lean male bodies with no recollection of how I got there. From the snores emanating from the man on each side of me, I judged them both to be sleeping, and was pleased that, for once, they were not rigid with the idea of my safety.

  Where would I have been safer, after all, than in between the two of them?

  I was not tired, not anymore. Nor, however, did I want to rise. I was content, completely so, and I marveled at the blessing that the gods had bestowed upon me.

  Though it would not, could not last, I knew that I would always remember this moment, this first time. I would use it to make me smile when I could not see them and my heart hurt because of it.

  I would remember that Marcus was hard and unyielding, and that I did not have to make choices around him, because he already knew what I wanted. I would remember that he made me feel safe.

  I would remember that Caius made me laugh, and that he was softer in manner and attentive, at least with me. I would remember that he was quick to jump to my defense, to wade in with fists flying. I would remember the wicked grin that could bring me to my knees.

  I would remember that the two filled different halves of my soul, and that when we were all together, I was complete.

  I did not have to remember, not just yet. For now, I could revel in the feeling of completeness.

  With Caius on one side and Marcus on the other, and the promise of life in my womb, I felt full. It was the first time in my life that I had felt whole.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Water made rings around a stone that was thrown into its depths. Never before had I noticed this. Or perhaps I had when I was younger, on visits here, but if so the knowledge had faded from my memory long ago.

  This morning I found it fascinating. That a simple object like a stone could cause such a beautiful effect caught my attention and held it. I threw rock after rock, pebble after pebble as far as I could, watching the small splashes where the stones fell, before the sea again smoothed, the stones swallowed whole.

  It was nice to focus on something besides the turmoil inside of me.

  I had come out to sit by the sea in the very early hours of the morning. I was rarely awake so early in Rome, for we often had social engagements that kept us out late. Rather, I had once had them. Lucius still did, he simply no longer took me with him.

  Still, it had been years since I had seen the sun rise. I had forgotten how breathtaking a sight it could be, the way the colors streaked across the horizon like the gods had spilled paint mixed with light.

  How could I go back to Rome after having had a taste of this? My life in Rome contained no sunrises, no stones sinking into the pale blue sea. My life in Rome contained only duty and dissatisfaction, tedium and unrelenting heat.

  More, how could I go back to Lucius after having tasted the companionship, the love that I shared with my two warriors?

  I did not have a choice, this I knew. But now the reality of it all seemed worse than it ever had before.

  “Domina.” Craning my neck, I saw Caius standing on the swell of ground above the shore. The sight of him caused excitement to rush, hot and fizzy, throughout my body.

  Thinking of what we had done the night before, the two of us and Marcus, made me ache with the need for more.

  “I wish you would call me by my name.” My words were quiet, but I hoped that he heeded them.

  I no longer felt that I was their domina. I no longer felt that they were gladiators, or slaves.

  “Alba.” He amended his words. “You are needed at the house. Lucius has sent a doctor to examine you.”

  I was alarmed. “Lucius?” I rose to my feet as quickly as I was able, which I was loath to admit was not as quickly as I had once been able to move. “Is he here?” I would never be able to hide my true feelings in front of my husband. Not now, when they were so shiny and new.

  Caius held his hands out and took mine in his own as I approached. He let go quickly when he realized that there was now another set of eyes present. “Calm yourself. Lucius is not here. Just the doctor. Pompeius, I believe his name is?”

  Pompeius, yes, the doctor who had first suspected that it was my husband who was barren, not me. I supposed that it showed some level of caring on Lucius’ part, to send the doctor all the way out here to check on the well-being of me and the baby. I rather suspected, however, that it had more to do with the well-being of our patronage. I would not have been surprised to discover that the visit had been suggested by Baldurus.

  I resented the intrusion, but steeled myself. It would be beneficial to discover that all was well with the child inside of me, and while the man was here, I would have him look at Drusilla. Lucius would have balked at the expense for a slave. But Lucius was not here to say yes or no.

  Pompeius was seated in the softest chair in the front room of the house, the one facing the sea. He already had a cup of honeyed wine in hand, and I assumed that he must have poured it himself, for Drusilla was still upstairs, and I could not picture Marcus pouring wine for the man.

  “Alba.” The doctor nodded at me. I tried to fight the anger that rose at the sight of him. He was a kindly enough man, but he had had a hand in Lucius’ plan to mate me without my consent. That told me that he did not think very highly of women, or perhaps just of me. Either way, I was unimpressed.

  Pompeius slurped at his wine, draining the cup before gesturing to the lounge that sat beside his chair. “Well, lie down, child. Let us have a look.” I hesitated, exchanged a glance with both men.

  The doctor would not have even considered that I might be self-con
scious in front of these men, for he did not see them as people. They were merely slaves, furniture. Possessions.

  I knew they were so much more than that. And after my initial, knee-jerk reaction, I realized that it was silly to be self-conscious in front of either one of them.

  They had both seen, touched, and tasted every part of me. They knew me better than anyone, except perhaps Drusilla.

  And one of them was the father of this child. As such, their presence in the room was about so much more than just me overcoming my nerves.

  It was their right.

  So I lay down on the couch, bent my knees as the doctor approached. I was uncertain of what to do, having never been examined by a doctor before, let alone examined while with child. I caught first Marcus’ eye, then Caius’. Both smiled at me, just enough of an expression that I would detect it, would draw comfort from it, but not so much that Pompeius would think it odd.

  Amongst questions about my diet and activity, my sleep and my comfort, the doctor examined me briefly between my legs and then palpated my stomach. After running his hands over the hard ball of it, which had only recently begun to look like more than a softness around the waist, he nodded, satisfied.

  “It is a girl, I think.” I blinked up at him, struggled to rise to my elbows.

  “How could you tell such a thing?” I thought that he must have been making up a story.

  “The shape of your stomach, it is oval, rather than like a ball.” He wiped his hands on his tunic. “That suggests a girl, at least in my experience.”

  I was not sure what to make of this information. Part of me warmed immediately to the idea of a small daughter, one with silky curls and chubby fingers. Part of me cringed, aware that Lucius would much rather have a son.

  Over Pompeius’ shoulder I saw a quick rush of emotion pass over Marcus’ face. It looked as though he was . . . pleased? If I could glean such a thing from such a quick glance.