“My craving for you makes what you say a lie.” Gaius’s arm falls back to his side, revealing the coldness of his gaze. “A slave should not hold sway over her master.”
“What is a slave without her master, a master without his slave?” Would that I could make him understand. “One without the other is incomplete. You see this thing between us as a weakness. How can it be a weakness to be adored, desired—loved?”
Goddess, open his heart, his mind.
There is no reply. Gaius turns his head away, and suddenly the room is cold. Rising, I cross to the brazier, add more wood.
“If I offered you freedom, passage back to your people, would you take it?”
Fear holds me immobile, bent over the fire pit, unable to turn toward him. And when I finally find the strength to speak, I can only whisper. “My freedom is not within your power to bestow. Even if you throw me from your house, declare to the world my status as a free woman, I would still be your slave.”
The only sounds in the room are the crackle of the fire, the rushing thrum of my blood in my ears. When Gaius speaks, the sound startles me, makes me jump.
“Then come here, slave. Your master demands it.”
Chapter Five
He is lying where I left him, and as I approach he stays there, watching me. His eyes gleam beneath their lids, the thickness of his dark lashes masking his expression. But although I do not know his thoughts, my body heats, grows liquid.
I kneel beside the bed, head lowered, eyes downcast. “What is your pleasure, Master?”
Silently Gaius sits up, grasps my arm and pulls me upright. With rough gestures I am made to kneel on the bed. His hand, hot and insistent, presses me forward until my cheek touches the cushion and my buttocks point up in the air.
It is familiar, this position, for it is how he always takes me, from behind. Yet tonight I sense something different and trembling desire flares, immediate, untamed.
When his hands grasp my hips, and the heat of his mouth covers me, I am unprepared and cry out. Oh, the glory of his tongue swirling, dipping, flashing over my flesh. The intensity of pleasure given by his sucking lips is almost unbearable, and I desperately reaching for the orgasm already rushing to engulf me.
He pulls back, releasing my labia only to invade my throbbing cunt with a finger. Slowly the sweetly penetrating digit twists, works in and out, picking up speed until the rhythmic slap of his hand reverberates around the room.
“You give me pleasure when you are wet for me, when I feel you pulsing around my finger, my cock.”
I fight the passion overtaking me to find the words. “May the Goddess always make me wet for you, Master.”
“Yes.” His voice echoes against my skin. “For I would drink my fill of you tonight, and for many nights to come.”
Words become actions, and his tongue flickers across my clitoris, keeping time with his plunging finger, driving me, crying out, into orgasm.
Weakened, my legs start to collapse beneath me, but he grips my hips, holds me up.
“I did not give you leave to move, slave.”
Quaking, I maintain my place. Gaius Antonius laughs, and it draws a spasm from the very recesses of my womb. With leisurely strokes he traces my outer labia with his finger, touches the quivering flesh, sweeps between the lips. Lightly, ruthlessly, he plays, stimulating my body to the verge of orgasm then denying me the satisfaction.
The slow repenetration of his finger makes me push back toward him, and he growls a warning. Immediately I force myself to stillness again, almost sobbing with passion. His thumb rests against my clitoris, not moving but applying pressure enough to almost drive me mad.
“Please, Master.” I have never thought to beg before, never needed to, but now the act of beseeching him for release is almost enough to give it.
“Yes, slave.” Gaius presses further in with two fingers while his thumb begins to lightly circle. “Yes, show me your passion, as you drew forth mine.”
When his tongue pushes into my anus, a flash, like lightning, steals my very breath, and I drop to my stomach to scream, writhing, devastated by the strength of my ecstasy. Gaius follows me down, pins my legs beneath his chest, tongue fucking, finger fucking until I can no longer even move, except to shudder stiffly and cry with bliss.
How long he holds me there, I do not know. Every time I believe myself immune to even one more instant of stimulation, his fingers or thumb or tongue move in a new way, touch a different place, and another wave of ecstasy batters my senses.
Gaius crawls up my body, holding me facedown beneath him. His phallus slides against my thigh and I try to open for him, suddenly desperate to feel it inside me. No matter how his mouth or hands have pleasured me, I still need the final joining to be complete.
Rising up on his knees, Gaius rolls me over to face him. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he holds my head immobile. The touch of his lips on mine, the rough invasion of his tongue into my mouth, brings fresh tears to my eyes.
I taste myself on his lips, smell the evidence of my desire on his flesh. I lick his chin and he groans, twisting and turning his face to help me get every last drop of my juices from his skin. When he kisses me again, his tongue sweeps from side to side, as though taking it all back for himself.
He still has me trapped beneath him, his muscular thighs resting on the outside of mine, keeping me from opening them. His phallus slides along my belly and I struggle, whimpering, at the sensation of heat and hardness against my skin. Gaius tightens his grip on my hair, looks steadily into my eyes.
“Not yet, slave.” There is a movement of his hands, almost tender, against my scalp. “When I am ready, and not before.”
Wicked, wicked master. Every inch of my skin is sensitive to his lightest touch and caress. The suction of his lips on my breast makes me moan, the slip of his mouth over my belly makes me tremble. He parts my thighs, but only to fleetingly bestow the tip of his tongue, fluttering like butterfly wings, against my clitoris before closing them again. Pressing and kneading, his hands explore my body, but too gently to be tolerated without my flesh jerking and rippling beneath them.
I cannot bear it another moment. My womb pulses, my cunt contracts with spasm after spasm of empty pleasure.
“Please, Master.” I am crying, desperate, reaching to touch the engorged head of his phallus, feeling it leap, slick and smooth, between my fingers. “Please.”
Gaius laughs, grips me tight around the waist and rolls on to his back. His face is flushed, beaded with perspiration, and the breath rasps from between his lips.
“Do as you will, slave. Give me pleasure.”
For a moment I do not understand, and then the reality of his words, his posture beneath me, explodes within my soul.
I want to go slowly, make it perfect for him, but I have waited too long for this moment. With a cry of thanksgiving, I straddle his hips, reach between us to cradle his cock in my hand, place the head against my cunt. With a movement swift, sure, I engulf him, and the very act of so doing is enough to make me gasp with relief.
Gaius groans, his hands bands of iron on my hips, guiding me as I rise and fall above him. I touch his chest and belly, reach back to brace against his thighs, and being able to feel his skin beneath my fingers while he fills me is sweet ecstasy.
Harder I ride him, harder and faster. His hips rise to meet mine. With my hands on his chest, I lean forward, hair swirling down to create a curtain separating us from the world. Gaius uses one hand to push it back behind my ears, and in the golden glow of the fire I see his eyes, locked on mine.
The lids no longer hide his expression; the fierce light of ownership is allowed to shine forth. The power of it drives into me, and my heart leaps with joy.
“Mine,” he growls. “Mine.”
And to seal his claiming he cries out my name, pumping his release into my womb. I watch him and my pleasure is magnified. It expands to overwhelm me, carries me after him into orgasm.
I fall forward i
nto Gaius’s arms. All strength has left in my body, but the strong race of his heart beneath my cheek nourishes my soul. I drift toward sleep, but my master is not ready to let the night end.
“I go to Londinium tomorrow,” he whispers into my hair before lifting and carrying me through the sleeping villa to the bathing room.
Without hesitation, Gaius goes down the steps into the pool.
“Wait, Master. Your feet will be burned. You need the soleas.”
“The furnace has been stoked for the night.” His voice is soft, and he does not pause in his descent into the caldarium. “It is not too hot.”
I sigh as we sink into the water, warmth seeping immediately into muscles and sinews already made malleable by pleasure. Turning me to straddle his hips, he holds me against his chest and my head falls forward to rest on his shoulder. With his hands he scoops water over my head, pushing the wet hair back from my cheeks.
“Shall I wash you?” I ask, although lassitude weighs down my limbs and eyelids.
“No.” His arms tighten around me. “This is as it should be.”
An alien note has invaded his voice. These are the words of a man resigned to fate, rather than those of my master, who ever seeks to bend destiny to his will.
Gaius reaches for my hand, links his fingers with mine. The Goddess ring rests between us, pinching the side of my finger.
“Where did you get this ring?” I hear no accusation in his voice, only curiosity. “You didn’t have it when I bought you.”
I chuckle, turning my head to kiss the firm smooth skin of his throat. “I have had it since my father died, for it was his and his father’s before him.”
Leaning back, he uses the edge of his hand to lift my chin. “Speak the truth. I know you did not have it when you first came here, for you came with nothing but the woolen cloak you were wearing in the slave pens.”
“I speak true.” I cannot help laughing at him, at the sweet naiveté of so strong and smart a man. “When I knew I would be captured by the raiders, I took the ring off the leather thong on which it hung and hid it where it would not be found.”
“And where…” The answer comes to him before the question can completely leave his lips. “Oh.”
With my eyes I dare him to laugh with me at the perfidy of women, and he does. But the humor quickly fades from his face.
“It is for protection, your ring?”
“Aye.” I nod, raise his hand to my lips and kiss the finger banded with my golden talisman. “It will keep you safe.”
He slips further down into the water, until it laps at the base of his neck and covers my shoulders. My hair surrounds us like the swirl of seaweed drifting on the tide. Absently he caresses my leg, fingers tracing the line of muscle in my thigh. The simple gesture resonates into my core.
“You should wear it then, while we are apart.”
“No.” I shake my head, twisting my chin away from his hand as he tries to hold it still, and I speak over him, force him to hear. “I have given it to you, trusting the Goddess to keep you safe. I will not take it back.”
“If I command you to do so, you will.”
Tonight I have already asked a favor, and I know not to ask for more, so I seek a way to ask without asking, plead without plea.
“Better the safety of a master than a lowly slave. There are others like me, but there is only one Gaius Antonius Capito.”
He smiles and shakes his head, but makes no reply. Most importantly, the ring remains upon his finger.
Goddess, guide him; and me.
As the silent prayer leaves my heart, a change vibrates in the air. Swirling, the warm waters of the bath seem to suddenly move swifter and my hair drifts behind my shoulders. Gaius shifts beneath me, rests his arms along the edge of the bath, head back, exposing the muscular lines of his throat. At the base, trapped within a tender hollow, blood passes close to the surface of his skin. Moved beyond understanding, I rest my lips against it; absorb the powerful beat into my mouth.
Life, that driving pulse seems to say, is strong, yet by its very nature vulnerable, too. We balance on a sword blade, always seeking, yet only one step away from destruction. Take what is given. Give thanks for it. Trust not in tomorrow, or the day after. Live only in the now.
Awakened by my silent adoration, his phallus stirs, rises to press against my mound. Without removing my lips from his throat I lift my hips to slowly, gently, take him into my body.
There is no movement other than the rush of the water, the quiet pulsing of our flesh deeply joined. Bound to him by will and spirit and soul, I relinquish all—surrender fully to him, to myself, to the sacred.
“Ah.” His whispered sigh enfolds us, and I quiver inside, at the place we are most intimately united. “Ah!”
For a flash of time the veil is lifted, swept aside by the Goddess’s hand. I see us escaping, leaving Verulamium as the Iceni hordes bear down upon the town and destroy everything in their path. I see hardship as Gaius struggles to rebuild that which is lost. The Goddess shows me pain, agonies of body, spirit and mind, despair and darkness while the world as we know it disappears and a new one rises to take its place.
Yet he is there, and I am by his side, slave of his heart, lover, friend. The mother of his children, faithful, dedicated only to him by the grace of the Goddess, by Her largess.
It is enough—just as the gentle grip of my inner muscles is enough, and the strong pulse of his cock is enough to make the breath rush from our lips. It is more than enough—just as this quiet, motionless joining, devoid of desperation and overt power, is more than enough to pull us inexorably to satisfaction.
Gaius catches his breath, and I raise my head to look at his face. Desire has tightened the skin around his mouth, brought a flush to his cheeks, but his eyes are afire with delight.
“Did you see it, Laelia?” Wonder echoes in his voice. “Did you see my child growing within you? My seed taking root to flourish in your body?”
“I saw.” Tenderly I touch his cheek, slip my fingers into the thick warmth of his hair. “By the grace of the Goddess I saw many things.”
His left hand comes down to rest over my womb and my flesh, so deliciously trapped between his, inside and out, ripples, contracts at the glorious pressure.
“Ah, Laelia.” His voice is a whisper of sound, joyful and determined. “With our strength combined, we can do anything.”
Peace and passion inundate us as his phallus grows within me and the walls of my cunt contract and caress, drawing us closer to the ultimate moment of understanding. Forgetting is found there, and soul-forged pleasure, yet also a portal into the secrets of life, a knowing unattainable at any other time.
Gaius feels it coming. His body stiffens and the obsidian eyes flare as he gives in to the advancing storm. My master’s phallus leaps, pushes, forces my submission. Joyously I give it, taking his strength into myself, giving back everything I am.
With a hoarse shout, Gaius presses up, release tightening his powerful muscles to straining ropes. Bound by need I surrender, complicit and glorying in my dependence on him, our voices melding as the rush of that shared orgasm reveals all to my wondering eyes.
Master and slave are one and the same, tied by desires which if left unfulfilled will lead to our destruction. Together, we are stronger than any adversity, any fear. Giving, taking, conquering, submitting, we tap into the sublime, the sacred, and join our souls with the Goddess—with life.
Even as the knowledge enters my heart, Gaius grips the back of my neck in his strong hand, pulls me forward. Our lips meet—he invades my mouth with the driving power of his tongue—I open to him. The Goddess laughs; and finally I fully understand.
Like the sun and rain, winter and summer, night and day, we are balance. Power is shared, magnified, in the differences of our needs. We are a blessing, each to the other, and a tribute to the One who created our glorious enslavement.
Goddess, be praised.
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Glorious Enslavement
Copyright © 2010 by Ann Marie Richards
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