Augustine stepped away from her. Persephone dropped her hands to the bureau to maintain her balance at the sudden loss of contact. Concern flashed briefly in her eyes before she veiled it.
Augustine slowly brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices off of them. The taste of her was musky. Sweet and tangy. Persephone’s pupils dilated further as she watched. Her previously cautious expression was immediately replaced with one of exhilaration. She undid the clasp on her zoster and let it fall to the floor. Her feet following closely. Without the belt to hold her chiton in place, it took only a small flick of her wrists to send it cascading down into a pool at her feet. Augustine let his eyes trace her naked body slowly. Head to toe she was beautiful. The only imperfections he could see were the ragged scrapes along her knees. They’d found the trick stone left open in the Grand Council Chamber, though they hadn’t explored the tunnel it hid. Augustine planned to quiz Persephone about it as it was the most likely explanation for how she had made it from the third floor to ground level without being captured sooner, but he didn’t want to be distracted by such things presently.
“Do you like the way I taste, General?” This time, she did not use his title as a slur. His cock twitched at the sexy way she said General. He wished it were his name instead, though he did not want to ruin the moment by telling her who he was just yet.
He smiled in reply. Watched her run a hand down her stomach to her cunt. She mirrored his earlier actions, slipping a finger inside herself. He saw the slight movement of her hand as she massaged her inner walls. “Is that a yes?”
His eyes never strayed from the sight of her touching herself. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
The subtle movement of her hand held him rapt. “I like the way you taste,” he answered reflexively, wanting her to continue.
He almost protested when she suddenly removed her hand. Almost. He was glad he hadn’t when she brought her hand to her mouth. Slowly, she ran the tip of her tongue from the base of her finger all the way to the glistening tip. “So do I.”
* * * *
Persephone felt a rush of satisfaction when the general’s mouth popped open. He recovered quickly. His gaze more heated than ever. She continued to leisurely lick her finger clean while she waited for his response.
“Do we have a deal, Princess?” His voice was husky, the only indication he hadn’t completely regained his composure.
Persephone raised a questioning brow as she continued to smile at him. “You will mark my mother, Kolimpri, and Seraphime permanently off limits so long as I encourage my family’s cooperation in continuing business as usual and present myself to satisfying your personal whims?”
Persephone definitely felt like she was getting the raw end of the deal. She desperately wanted to advocate for all the slaves in the palace but knew she would be unable to pay the price of such a thing. As long as it had been since the siege began, many of them had likely already found themselves ill-used. It was naïve and foolish to believe otherwise and the knowledge broke her heart. None deserved such a thing. Unlike before, she lacked the power to protect everyone. Sacrifices must be made. That it had not been an easy decision to abandon them to their fates was her only comfort. As the guilt she felt far superseded any respite she might otherwise have experienced, it was hardly any comfort at all. Like so many other devastating thoughts and feelings, she buried it. Those she could and would do anything for had to be her sole concern.
“Is this agreeable to you?” he asked.
It wasn’t at all, but what choice did she have? “The fact that I am not a maid is of no concern?”
“I am surprised you would ask.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I would not want this to be used later as reason not to honor our agreement.” She could not risk it. The cost she was paying was already far too high.
“Very sensible of you.” He smiled at her. “Do not worry yourself, it has been told that maids are overprized.”
Persephone smiled in reply. It only went skin deep, but he had no way of knowing such things. “Then we have a deal.”
She closed the distance between them. The general wasted no time. As soon as she reached him, he had tangled her hair in his fingers and pulled her mouth to his. Just as his kiss in the Grand Hall, there was no clumsy fumbling. Lips, tongue, and teeth were all used in perfect harmony. Unbidden, a low moan passed from her mouth to his. She’d answered coquettishly when he asked, but the truth was she did hate how responsive she was to him. She wanted to detest everything about him. Loathed herself that she did not.
Wanting to regain some semblance of control, Persephone slid his briefs from his hips. He never broke contact with her mouth, stepping out of them as she walked him backwards. When the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed, she gave his chest a shove. He scooted himself toward the center as she followed.
Persephone offered a silent moue of approval as she crawled over his body to straddle his hips. Seemingly content to let her lead, the general watched her movements through hooded eyes, his gaze a tangible caress on her body. Knees spread so that she barely hovered over him, Persephone straightened to cup both breasts with her hands.
“Do you like what you see, General?”
His eyes riveted to the way she teased and plucked her nipples, he ran a palm up her stomach, sweeping her hand off one cupped breast to replace it with his own. “I do.”
She lowered herself slowly onto him. As she did, his eyes closed. His head tilted back. When he was fully sheathed she rocked her hips, drawing a guttural groan from him. Grabbing her hips with both hands he rolled his own, pushing up into her and sending sensation cascading through her center.
Both hands on his chest, she leaned forward and began to move. Though he let her set the pace, he matched her rhythm. His hands were never idle, continuously caressing, squeezing, massaging her hips, thighs, breasts. Already, she could feel herself tightening, preparing for release. A release she had every intention of denying.
As though he could read her mind, the general pushed himself upright. Continuing his hands’ perusal of her body and his hips’ regular tempo. He kissed her cheek and her neck before whispering in her ear, “Inemorere pro me.”
His words were the catalyst that almost detonated her. It was only through years of practice controlling her body’s every reaction that she didn’t actually come apart in his arms. A sultry smile dusted her lips in reply. Head tipped back, she moaned her pleasure. Body clenching around him, a shiver ran over her frame. A lie. All of it.
Sex had always been a tool for Persephone. A means to an end rather than something to be enjoyed. More akin to vaginal masturbation, as far as she was concerned, than a mutually pleasurable experience. She knew all the ways to please a man. Knew all the appropriate noises to make at all the appropriate times. Each one a mechanism, used as a part of the whole. The greater illusion. Their desire for her response had always seemed more about satisfying their own male egos than an actual craving to ensure she left the encounter equally gratified, meaning her deception was easily sold.
Not this time, it would seem. The general watched her curiously. “That was very convincing, Princess. But do you know what I hate most of all?” Apprehension crawled underneath her skin. “A liar.”
She had never been accused of lying. Not in this, though it had always been a farce. It was surreal that this man would be the one person who noted it. Mimicking his actions, she kissed his neck before whispering in his ear. “As you wish, General. The truth is that I am here for your pleasure. Not mine.” Honesty seemed the best way to regain his good graces.
“Ah, Princess, your pleasure is my pleasure.” His words were punctuated with a slow upward thrust. A tweak of her nipple. Both of which had her groaning into his throat. “Now –” He never finished the thought. Wrapping one arm tightly around her waist, he rolled, swiftly reversing their position and somewhat roughly flipping her onto her back.
He braced himself on hi
s elbows, keeping the bulk of his weight off of her. It didn’t miss her attention that he was still fully erect, the two of them still fitted together. Feeling trapped, Persephone shifted uncomfortably underneath him. Her tensed muscles stubbornly refused to soften. She hated being prone. It was something she had expected, as most men seemed to enjoy it, though in the past she typically had never had trouble manipulating the situation, as well as her partners, in order to avoid it.
“Relax, Persephone. I am not going to hurt you.”
Of course it was overly optimistic to have hoped that he would not notice her discomfort. The man seemed to notice everything and it irked her to no end.
She snorted in what was certainly a very unladylike manner. “Funny. My face still hurts from the last time you had me in this position.” As if on cue, her cheek throbbed in remembrance.
Lifting his head, he met her angry glare. “Then, I suppose I should be equally concerned.” With more tenderness than she would have thought possible, he gently kissed the offended cheek. An apology? She wasn’t sure. He continued to trail feather-light kisses across her cheek to her neck and ear. Her body remained just as responsive as before, and Persephone was only mildly surprised to find herself tilting her head to give him easier access for his ministrations. “The last time I had you in this position you spat in my face and nearly broke my arm.” Still focused on her neck, there was no way he saw the laughing smile on her face. “Try not to be overly pleased with yourself.” His tone was teasing, any hint of malice gone, even after her perceived transgression. Evidently he was not always a complete brute.
Despite herself, she did feel more relaxed. The general seemed to sense the change. His previously unhurried movements gradually increased in urgency. Hands and lips resumed their continuous roving. He trailed kisses across her neck, jaw, lips. Everywhere he could reach, really. Cupping her breast, he rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, while once again tangling his other hand in her hair. Gently kneading. Just as he had in the Grand Hall. With the majority of his weight pulled forward on his elbow, he rolled his hips so that the length of his shaft and his pelvis slid against her most sensitive spot with every stroke.
Focusing on the myriad of sensations rather than her desire to stay detached from the man causing them, Persephone’s body climbed quickly. She didn’t fight it this time. Heat and pressure built in her core. She felt her entire body tense and she moaned when the dam burst and pleasure washed over her, only vaguely aware of the general’s corresponding grunt before both of them stilled. Persephone lay there catching her breath. She didn’t lack for experience, but it had never been like that. She’d never found true release from anyone’s touch but her own. That it was with an enemy served as further proof that the gods had cursed her. But was it all of Galilae they had cursed, or her personally? As they had never offered solace in the past, she must have fallen from their favor long ago. She’d always wondered, and this only served as further proof to her. Persephone vowed that from this point forward, any success or failure on her part would be her sole responsibility. Just as it had always been, she reminded herself sternly.
Eyes closed, the general rolled off of her. A satisfied smile curled the corner of his mouth. Wasting no time, she scooted to the edge of the bed and swung her feet to the floor. She didn’t look back until she had retrieved her rumpled chiton and zoster. No longer smiling, the general was watching her. What he was looking for, she wasn’t sure. Had he expected her to stay? She hoped not. Although she had initially planned to press for information, her body’s reaction to him distressed her and she wanted to remove herself from his presence so she could recollect herself. She didn’t want to have to continue faking feelings she did not have, nor hide those she did.
She could feel their combined juices trickling slowly down her leg, giving her something other than her jumbled thoughts to focus on. Unless he ordered her to stay, she only needed to pretend a little longer. Maintaining eye contact, she shot him a sly smile before swiping the inside of her thigh, gathering their fluids on her fingertips and promptly popping them in her mouth. Even from the distance, she could see his eyes dilate.
“Not bad, General.” Her words vibrated on a satisfied purr.
Persephone didn’t wait for his response, instead returning to the task of dressing herself, expertly draping and positioning the fabric of her chiton. She was aware of his movements as he approached her.
“Augustine.”
A single word, and yet her blood ran cold, her forced levity immediately doused. Augustine and its derivatives were common names in the Finctus, she reminded herself. It did not necessarily mean what she feared. Immersing herself with the task of buckling her zoster, keeping her tone and expression as bland as possible, she answered reflexively, pretending she hadn’t heard him to stall for time. “Pardon?”
He was right in front of her. Her zoster half-buckled, he reached out and gently lifted her chin until their eyes met. “My name is Augustine. I prefer to hear you call me by name.”
Under normal circumstances it would be considered improper for her to publicly address him by name. It suggested a certain level of intimacy between them, although clearly, their relationship was to be an intimate one – literally speaking. Emotionally she’d planned to remain entirely distant, and though her body seemed determined to make things difficult for her, she’d never had problems separating feelings from fucking in the past.
Aware that he was still diligently monitoring her reaction, she nodded and shrugged idly by way of reply. It acknowledged her understanding that he would prefer it, but in her mind it was not an agreement to use his name. She had no intention of doing so. If she was correct, and she prayed to the gods she’d forsaken just minutes earlier that she was mistaken, she wanted no relationship of any kind with the man standing before her.
She had to know, but it was imperative he not see her react. Persephone returned her attention to the half-buckled zoster, willing her hands not to shake as she finished the task. Her clothing secure, her blank façade firmly in place, she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. As casually as she could manage, she asked, “That would not by chance be Augustine Sempronius?”
Please. Please. Please.
He stood with his arms crossed, unsurprised by the query.
“It would be.”
“Oh.” It was the best she could do and still maintain her external composure. She felt light-headed. Her heart raced.
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” All air suddenly absent from the room, she forced normal breaths into and out of her body. “I was merely curious.”
Gods fuck us. We are doomed.
Part II
From Freedom and Tyranny, an Anthology, written by Herodotus of House Halicarnassus, record keeper of Xenakai:
Before the time of the Sator and the Finctus, cities and kingdoms ruled themselves. While ruled independently, the Free Kingdoms lived in relative peace and prosperity. Trade was common and conflict was rare; that is, until the time of the Reckoning.
It was during this time that the tyrant, Nero of House Perdome, King of Perdomo, named himself Sator and raised the largest and most powerful army the realm has ever seen. In his greed and hunger for power, he sent his army North, South, East, and West of Perdomo, conquering his neighbors: foes and allies alike.
It was early in the Reckoning that Xenaxia, a near neighbor of Perdomo, was sacked. The once powerful city was nearly burned to the ground. The royal family, led by Arrian of House Xenakis, barely escaped with their lives, and not without casualties. For fifty years, as House Perdome expanded the Finctus, they barely managed to stay outside of reach. Hearing about the destruction and terror wrought by the Finctus, many merchants, peasants, farmers, and herders sought to flee the West and move with House Xenakis towards the East and the prosperity of the Great Salt Sea.
Upon reaching the Sea, Nearchus of House Xenakis had amassed ten thousand followers to settle the new Kingdom of
Xenakai. At first, the surrounding Free Kingdoms took little notice of Xenakai, but as the population and prosperity of the kingdom grew, tensions with the older, more established Free Kingdoms in the East began to mount. During the reign of Hannibal, the Fourteenth Sator, Antonius of House Xenakis, King of Xenakai, married his oldest and most beautiful daughter, Adonia, to Acheron of House Galanis, King of Galilae.
To this day, Acheron and Adonia rule in Galilae. The Free Kingdoms continue to prosper, but the dark shadow of the Finctus continues to creep further east. It is only a matter of time before the Free Kingdoms unite and take a stand against the Tyranny of Atroxus of House Perdome, Sator of the Finctus, or themselves fall into his terrible clutches.
Chapter 1:
By Any Other Name
Many confuse things with their names. This is a mistake. A name is only a word, and a word will never be the thing itself. And, yet, names – as words – have power, not inherently, but because we give it to them.
– Seraphime, Body Slave to Persephone of House Galanis, Princess of Galilae
Cato stepped into the king’s chamber with Decimus at his side. He wasn’t surprised Augustine had called them so soon after seeing Persephone – new instructions, undoubtedly – nor was he surprised that Augustine was sprawled, looking sleepy and well sated on the bed.
“Made yourself right at home, did you?” Cato observed.
A lazy smile unfurled on Augustine’s face. “Jealous, friend?”
Laughing, Cato shook his head. “Hardly. The princess will not make things easy. I do not envy the task ahead of you.”
“As always, I am sure you are correct.” Augustine looked thoughtful, but didn’t say more on the topic.
Decimus shifted impatiently, but stood silent. Like the rest of them, he was sure to be tired. Between the preparations that had been required, the siege, and the excitement that followed, they’d all been operating on too little sleep for far too long.
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