by Sara Fawkes
When I again opened my eyes, Christus’ fingers had trailed upward to my calf. His eyes burned brightly and were fixed on my own.
“I told the men that anyone who bothered you while you bathed would find himself without a cock.” My mouth fell open at the words, and inexplicably a giggle bubbled up from my throat.
I clapped a hand over my mouth as it escaped. I never giggled. I rarely even laughed.
Sobering myself, I tried to tug my leg from Christus’ reach. “That does not mean that they will listen.”
“I assure you they will.” Christus did not allow me to pull my flesh away, instead trailing his fingers ever higher. My breath caught in my throat as he stroked the tender skin behind my knee.
“If it eases you, Darius is keeping watch. No one will disturb you. No one will disturb us.”
I heard the double meaning in his words, and though I felt as though I should run, I found myself doing nothing of the sort. Instead I reached out, my hand shaking, and ran uncertain fingers over the stripe of cheekbone.
I shuddered as my fingers made contact with his skin. It had been so long since I had been touched with anything but violence or desire that was twisted at its root. Darius touched me sometimes, but his caresses were friendly and reassuring.
They did not affect me in nearly the same way that these small caresses were.
“Christus. I cannot do this.” I wanted to. I could no longer lie to myself. I wanted this man, wanted the moments of pleasure that he could bring to me in this strange life that I called my own. “If the men found out that I took you as a lover, we would both be under attack.”
My voice had a breathless quality to it, one that I had never heard before. I was feeling things that I had never felt before, too, as Christus lowered his head and laid his lips on my knee.
When he again looked up, the expression on his face—the longing, the desire—was my undoing.
“Why should anyone find out? It is no one’s business but our own.” The fingers that still softly stroked the skin behind my knee moved with excruciating slowness, tracing a stripe up, and up, until they met the edge where my leather wrap met my skin.
“Christus.” What was happening to me? I was not weak—I made my own decisions. Yet I could no more have stopped this encounter than I could have stopped breathing.
Slowly, giving me time to say no, Christus worked at the knot in my leather. When the fastening was loose, he worked the garment away from my body, hanging it on the edge of the tub.
Leaving my skin bare from the waist down.
I felt my lower lip tremble, but apart from that small movement I was still, tensed, my breath caught in my throat with anticipation. With his eyes on my own, drinking in every nuance of my expression, he inched his fingers up, then up again, trailing them over my inner thighs as the muscles beneath quivered.
I inhaled sharply when those fingers grazed over the heated skin between my legs. Christus paused as the noise, again giving me time to say no.
I waited a long moment, my innermost thoughts whirling through my head in a great rush. Sex had been tied up with violence for so long, it had made me feel cheap at best. The idea that I could embrace it for pleasure was strange and oddly thrilling, if I could but take that leap.
My eyelids lowered, I looked down from the edge of the bath where I still perched, looked at the god of a man who was rising out of the water at my feet. He was golden and sleek and beautiful, and he wore an expression of reverence and of need that looked to be nearly painful.
It was that exact combination that pushed me that last step. With an exhalation of the breath that I had been holding, I covered his wrist with my hand, holding his hand in place even as I arched my hips to meet his touch.
“You are certain that we will not be disturbed?” I could not quite believe that I was prepared to accept his word when he nodded—the Lilia of even a day before would never have taken anything at face value, would have had to see for herself.
But this man inspired trust. Trust, as well as lust.
For the first time since I had come to the ludus, I decided to embrace the sensations.
Sliding my hand from his wrist down his arm, over his broad shoulder and up, I burrowed my fingers in the wealth of blue-black hair that was spiked with dampness. I fisted the strands, tugged gently, and closed my eyes, waiting for the touch.
“Oh. Oh.” I could hear the surprise in my voice as Christus began to gently stroke through the soft hair that covered my cleft. His breath hissed out as I shifted, my hips moving into the touch without thought on my part.
“Be still.” His voice was firm, and I blinked, part of me not sure that I liked to be told what to do. But if those light, stroking touches felt so good, what other pleasure could he bring to me?
The featherlight touches increased in pressure just the slightest bit, and then a bit more. I could feel the blood rushing to my pussy, causing terrible excitement to gather there. I tensed with the onslaught, and when he finally worked one finger between my moist folds, grazing it over my clitoris, I gasped, then clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the noise.
Christus stilled his finger, though he did not remove the pressure. As I perched on the edge of the tub, I stared down at him with panic, both craving more of his touch and terrified that we were about to be found out because of my exclamation.
He shifted as he knelt in the water of the tub, and the liquid splashed gently.
“The men are all at their meal. And Darius watches them.” The words were murmured against my inner thigh. Though I was still nervous, the possibility of the pleasure that I had been promised won out.
“I—I don’t—”
Christus began to move his finger again, now avoiding my clit, deliberately I thought. Instead he inserted the tip inside my heated channel, groaning aloud when he found me wet and wanting.
Embarrassed, I ducked my head, feeling my cheeks turn the red of fruit. With his free hand he reached up to stroke over the curve of my cheek, at the same time working his other finger in and out of me just that small bit.
I could not pretend that I was not excited, even as I continued to blush.
“It pleases me to bring someone as pure as you pleasure.” When he called me pure, my head snapped back, my eyes wide open, emotions running hot and heavy through my veins.
“I am not anywhere close to pure, Christus. I thought you understood this.” Memories came with the words, and I fought them away, unwilling to let them taint the moment.
Christus smiled grimly, then in one smooth motion inserted his finger fully inside of me. I gripped the edges of the wooden bath until my knuckles turned white.
“Having physical acts forced upon you does not take away from your purity, Lilia. I know this better than most.” His eyes darkening, he gripped my hip with his free hand and began to work his finger in and out of me. “And I suspect that no one has ever shown you the pure pleasure that can be had between two people who mutually consent to it.”
I could not speak, for all of my attention was forced on his finger, which was working in and out of me in a steady rhythm. My clit throbbed, desperate for the same touch.
“I do not know how you can think that I am pure. I have been touched by more hands than you can imagine. I have killed. I will kill again.” It was important to me that he know these things before we went any further.
Again that formidable smile appeared. I gasped when, with one quick motion, he removed his finger and pulled me from the edge of the bath. I landed in the heated water beside him with a splash, droplets peppering my face and hair.
“Perhaps you are trying to convince me that you do not need to be treated with gentleness.” His words were a growl, and as he spoke, he reached down and clasped my calves. Strong hands guided my legs around his waist with sure movements, even as he took care to avoid my injured ankle.
Before I could catch my breath, I found my back pressed against the wooden slats of the tub, the hardness of his
cock pressed against my entrance.
My insides liquefied. This, I could wrap my thoughts around—two bodies finding heat in each other. The gentleness, the kindness, had been too much, but this . . .
This was what I wanted.
I arched my hips, and felt the swollen head of his cock slip inside of me. I inhaled sharply, my fingers digging into his shoulders, where I held tightly for support.
“Be sure.” Christus pressed his forehead against my own, then brushed his lips against mine. I sank my teeth into the corded muscle of his neck in response, felt his erection jerk inside of me in response.
“I am sure.” I had barely finished speaking when he had seated himself inside of me, his action hard yet not rough. I exhaled equally hard, stilling for a moment to adjust myself to the strange sensation of him inside of me. Muscles that had long gone unused stretched to accommodate his length, his girth, and I felt liquid heat pool in anticipation of what was to come.
“Are you all right?” Turning his head, his voice unsteady, Christus lowered his hands to the globes of my ass and squeezed.
I found myself unable to meet his stare. Again flushing, I buried my face in his neck, speaking directly into his ear.
“We must be quick.” I held perfectly still, unsure of myself in a way that I never was. He held still as well, seeming to wait for my orders.
“I . . . please.” I felt those fingers squeeze me again, kneading my flesh, bringing nerve endings to life.
There was a brief moment in which I thought of how strange it was to feel nothing but desire. And then he slammed into me with all of the strength that was coiled into his muscles, and I could not think at all.
My back, still partially covered by the leather band covering my chest, hit the wooden side of the tub flat. I could feel the knot in the leather of my top and tried with one hand to release it.
I wanted to be skin to skin with Christus. I wanted to milk every little bit of sensation that I could from this encounter, because I knew that, once it was over, I could not afford to repeat it.
“No.” One large hand fisted in the front of the leather band, pulling until the knot released. The wet leather was flung over the side of the tub, and I heard it land with a wet slap on the floor beneath.
My nipples were hard as rocks and abraded his chest. I arched my back, offering them to him.
“Lilia.” Leaving me to hold on to him myself, he filled his palms with my breasts. They fit as if they had been made for his hands, and I found myself shamelessly pushing against him, wanting more.
“All right, then.” Feeling the curve of his lips against my neck, I pushed back against him as he stopped caressing the globes of flesh and instead began to pull at my nipples with his fingertips. He was not gentle, but I saw the way he watched my reaction.
He knew that I was not delicate—knew that I would not settle for being treated gently. I could take whatever he gave me, and in this short encounter, I wanted it all.
He pinched both nipples at once, tightly, and I could have screamed at the touch. Then he dropped his hands to clasp my hips, and settled into the business of seating himself inside of me as hard as he could, over and over again.
I was not accustomed to the sensations that were rolling through me. There was pleasure, and it was tightly twined with the edge of pain that came every time he hilted his huge erection inside of my much smaller pussy. I found the combination unbearably exciting, pushing back against him, taking him in until I thought that I might split in half.
Tension coiled inside of me, low in my belly, as he began to move faster. I found the wet slap of my back against the side of the tub highly erotic, and it added to the sensation of wanting . . . more. Of needing . . . something.
I squirmed, reaching for something, anything. My breath began to come in pants, and I felt the muscles of Christus’ thighs tense beneath me.
“Lilia. Hold on to me.” I pried my fingers from the edge of the tub and placed them on his shoulders instead. As soon as I gripped him, he insinuated one hand in between our bodies, sliding his palm down, over my torso and lower.
His thumb and forefinger found my clit, and rolled the nub of engorged flesh tightly.
“Fuck!” I uttered the expletive into his neck, trying to stay quiet, but I was too far gone to care. Bavarius could have come in right at that moment, and I would not have even noticed, so focused was I on the man between my thighs.
That same man took the hand not pulling at my clit and worked it down the other side of my body, tracing lightly over my spine until he reached the tender spot where the cleft that divided my ass began.
I stiffened, pulling away, which served only to move me closer to him in the front.
“I—I don’t like that.” My voice shook with sudden nerves. The only touching I had ever had in that area had been unwelcome and violent.
Christus stilled his hand, but did not remove it.
“I will stop if you truly want me to.” He continued to thrust inside of me, shallow movements that made my thighs tremble. “But I want only to bring you pleasure. Always to bring you pleasure. I’ll never bring you violence. You can trust me.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt several emotions warring inside of me. I had already stepped into the deep that night—why should I stop?
I did trust him. I did not know why, but I did.
Slowly, making sure that his fingers kept giving attention to the clit that was now screaming, I thrust my ass back into his touch. I felt his smile against my hair, and then he inserted a finger into my ass, just a slight bit, and rotated it slowly.
“Oh. Oh!” I felt so full, so . . . blissful. Strange as it was at first to be penetrated in both places, I soon found nothing but enjoyment, my nerves skittering about.
Oh. How would it end? How could it end? He would have his climax soon, this much I knew, and then my pleasure would stop. The thought made me want to scream. I felt as though I was waiting for something, something explosive, and surely I would die without it.
“I cannot last much longer. You are so sweet.” Christus began to pant, his movements coming hard and fast. I felt a stab of disappointment—I did not want this to end, as it would when he spilled his seed inside of me.
I felt his body tense against mine, braced myself for the thrust that would signal his climax. Instead I found hard strokes feathered over my clitoris rapidly, and an extra pressure in my ass as he moved his finger deeper.
The explosion came, the release of that nearly unbearable tension that had been gathering within me. Taken off guard and not having a clue what was happening to me, I screamed, stifling the noise in Christus’ neck. My flesh continued to spasm, rolling waves of pleasure warming me as he nipped at my neck and came to his own release.
I found myself clinging to his neck as the storm calmed, small whimpers escaping my lips. I came to my senses, becoming aware of my surroundings in a huge rush, again clapping my hand over my mouth, terrified that my screams had echoed through the ludus.
Christus was staring at me, his breath coming short and hard. Slowly he removed his fingers from my flesh, letting my legs loosen around his waist.
I felt my lip tremble inexplicably. No, not inexplicably—I would never admit it, but the sensation that had just rocked my body had terrified me.
“You truly have never . . .” Christus’ voice trailed off as he stared at me in wonder, his hand lifting to stroke my cheek, as if I was something precious, something to be treasured.
I stiffened a bit, again unsure of how I felt about the gentleness. I knew what he was speaking of, of course, but was not sure what words to use.
“I . . . I have never been touched with . . .” I could not use the word “gentleness,” for Christus had not been gentle with me. “Caring. I have never before been touched with caring.” I cast my eyes down, fixed them on the water that was still rippling around us.
In truth, I had not known that such an explosion of pleasure was possible for a woman.
An innocent in matters of the flesh when I was sold to the ludus, I had never experienced a touch that did not sicken me. There were no other females around to tell me such things either, unless one were to count the whores who traipsed in and out at times.
I looked up again to find Christus still staring at me, but now his wonder was tinged with anger. I knew, instinctively I knew, that it was not anger directed at me.
“I should have been more gentle.” His voice was rough, and I blinked at the sternness in his tone.
“No.” I was quick to correct him, shaking my head from side to side widely. “No. I could not have borne it. I am not weak. This was perfect.” He did not look convinced, so I sighed, buried my embarrassment, and continued.
“I knew, of course, that a man will . . . climax. I just have never had occasion to discover that a woman can, as well.” Mortified, I was certain that he would be revolted by my naiveté.
Instead his eyes were heated, and I felt him incredibly begin to thicken inside of me once more.
“I am honored to be the first to bring you pleasure.” He shifted his hips slightly, and I very nearly slid back down the length of him, eager to re-create the moment that had shattered me only minutes before.
I could not. I had allowed myself one time, one time to taste the pleasure that Christus offered me, knowing that my safety would not be intruded upon.
The danger of discovery had me pushing him away and putting space between the flesh that was still heated.
“I cannot do this again. I cannot have this discovered.” The muscles of my arms flexed as I lifted myself from the tub, swinging out and over the side. I winced when I landed, the pressure on my injured ankle having eased, but still not completely gone.
Bending to retrieve the wet leather of my top and the discarded wrap for my bottom, I looked back up to find Christus watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Have you thought that, by letting someone in, you will be stronger than you are alone?”
I shook my head before even considering the words, wrapping the leather about me with brisk, practiced motions. As I covered my flesh, I felt the soft sensations of the last hour being swallowed down, buried inside of me. I felt my defenses again rise, felt the difficult yet strong person who was Lilia the gladiator smother everything else.
