by Amy Jarecki
Ever so gently, he lay her down and kneeled between her legs. Gazing upon her made his blood course with a rapid thrum beneath his skin—beauty from the red curls concealing her sex, to her silken breasts, to a face so lovely that the memory of it had burned an image on his mind forever.
She reached for him. Slowly, he held himself over her and caressed her neck with his lips. “The first time can be painful for a maid.”
Her hands drew his body closer. She threaded her fingers behind his neck and claimed his mouth, her kisses growing more self-assured. She moved her hips across his cock, the fine hairs of her womanhood tickling him dangerously.
Titus took her breast in his mouth and sucked the nipple gently at first, then steadily increased the tension. Elspeth arched her back, the rocking of her hips intensifying as his hand traveled down to the soft curls above her mons. He slipped a finger between the folds of her treasure, and she cried out. He found the entry to her womb, hot, wet, ready to receive him.
His cock pulsed again and a pearly bead moistened the tip. He caressed her tiny button and Elspeth moaned as she spread her legs wider, her tongue flicking as she raised her arms and invited him in. He straightened over her body and kissed her. Elspeth’s tongue searched wildly, her hips rocking, showing him her most basal desires.
Titus wanted to draw out the moment—let their passions linger on the precipice of rapture—but his self-control teetered upon a ragged edge. He reached his hand down and grasped his member, guiding it to her. “I will try not to hurt you, but I am too close to losing control.” His husky voice strained to utter the words.
She looked at him through heavy-lidded, sultry eyes. “I want ye. I’ve never wanted anyone but ye.”
He slid in the tip of his cock, and she gasped. Titus stopped, every muscle in his body tense. “Am I hurting you?”
“’Tis all right.” She dug her fingers into his buttocks and forced his shaft deeper. Elspeth moaned with quick breaths as she rocked her hips in harmony with his.
Clenching his butt cheeks together, Titus forced himself to steady. With agonizing self-control, he moved at a snail’s pace while he waited for Elspeth’s tight walls to soften and yield. Gradually she increased her movement beneath him and sank her fingers into his buttocks.
With stuttered breaths, he allowed her to dictate the pace. She stared at him through a thick fan of ruby lashes, the arousal reflected in her eyes unmistakable. He tried to wait, but his loins smoldered, punishing him.
Watching her face, listening to her stilted gasps, and inhaling the heady bouquet of her sex drove him to the very brink of madness. She opened her mouth, and a cry caught in the back of her throat. Titus could wait no longer. He bent his head and claimed her mouth, as Elspeth’s fingers demanded he thrust with his every ounce of strength.
When he threw his head back, Elspeth shattered beneath him, crying out, her breathing coming in rapid pants. He could no longer withhold his own pleasure. Need consumed him. With one more violent thrust, a roar ripped from his throat. Stars crossed his vision. His seed erupted, filling her womb. His entire body trembling from the ferocity of his release, he collapsed over her. “My God, I have never in my life experienced earth-shattering passion akin what you’ve given me this night.”
Chapter Fifteen
Elspeth stirred to the hoot of a morning dove. Rays of light fluttered over her with movement of breeze through the leaves. Titus spooned her with his body, his warmth suspending her as if she were floating. The wisps of his breath caressed the back of her neck, and she wanted this moment of solitude to last forever.
Things had happened so quickly. She’d resolved to return to Vindolanda to prove to Titus she was an honorable maid. She’d thought he could not possibly have feelings for her. Had he honestly asked her to marry him and made love to her as his wife? Elspeth clutched her arms to her chest. Oh how irate Greum would be to discover she had lain with a Roman. She inhaled the pine scent of the glade. She would not think of Greum’s reaction now. Too much joy filled her breast. They had coupled repeatedly, and though she was sore, she’d pushed the pain from her mind. All that had mattered in that moment was the two of them. It was as if she floated on a cloud sailing above.
Titus stirred and kissed her shoulder. “Good morning, my lovely sprite.”
“Sprite?”
“You are small.” He kissed her forearm. “You are very crafty.” He lowered her cloak and nuzzled into her breast. “And you have excellent skill with a bow.”
Elspeth giggled. “I’m not small.”
“You are smaller than me, Sprite.”
“Oh, so that’s what ye’re calling me now?”
“Yes. It suits you from your coppery hair to your lovely pointed nose.” He traced his finger from her nose down to her belly button. “Your creamy white skin, to those divine, slender legs, right down to your itty-bitty toes.”
His mere touch was all she needed to stir the unquenchable fire in her loins. The wee bit of pain from their coupling was nothing compared to her overwhelming desire to have him join with her again.
She lay on her back, watching him as his mouth explored her tingling flesh. Stopping below her navel, he chuckled. “Open for me.”
Elspeth gasped. “You don’t mean to kiss me there?”
He slid down and pushed open her knees with his shoulders. “I mean to taste every inch of your flesh.”
When he licked her, quick gasps escaped her throat. His warm tongue stroked her magically, her passion spiking. She dug her fingers into the blanket beneath and gave in to his relentless kisses until the world shattered around her in blissful euphoria.
Elspeth pulled Titus over her and nuzzled into his warmth. “’Tis a wonder married people get any work done at all. Bed feels too good to leave.”
He smoothed a hand across her tresses. “True, but one must have sustenance.” He rolled to the side, sat up and stretched. “Let us bathe in the pool and then break our fast with oats—we must set out soon.”
If Titus had thought that a bath would be quick, he was sorely mistaken. Elspeth wrapped her cloak around her naked body and skipped to the pond. Titus ran on her heels covering his sleek body with absolutely nothing. With a peal of laughter, Elspeth pattered into the shallow water and tossed her cloak aside.
Titus sped past her, his olive skin glimmering in the sunlight. His every muscle rippled beneath his skin, revealing a well-toned warrior. Elspeth’s unquenchable thirst for him made gooseflesh tingle up her arms until her nipples ached with desire.
Titus dove in and swam a quick lap. Once he stepped into the shallows, water streamed from his body. Heaven help her, he was a vision—wet and powerful. She needed him inside her once more. His teeth chattered as he wrapped her in his arms, his lips blue. “That’s got to be the coldest water I have ever felt in my life.”
Elspeth moaned when her breasts pushed into his solid chest. “Och. I could not believe ye just plunged in. Ye have to get used to it first, unless ye were born in Pictland.”
Grasping his hand, she waded in to mid-thigh and pulled him beside her. She cupped the water with her hands, poured it over his chest and rubbed her palm against it for warmth. “See. ’Tis not so bad this way.” She stood straight, her breasts tingling with anticipation. “Do it to me.”
Titus copied her and poured water between her breasts and rubbed it outward. Elspeth’s breasts instantly grew heavy, her nipples hard as pearls. He scooped another handful and gently kneaded. She threw her head back and moaned as his hand traced the trail of water down her midriff to the tufts of hair below. Ladling the icy water up to her cleft, he circled his thumbs over her mons. With swirling strokes, his fingers nudged her thighs open. He found the spot, the tiny button that brought her pleasure beyond anything she could have imagined. Her skin sizzled as the deep tug of longing filled her womb.
With a throaty chuckle, Titus stood and embraced her. His length pushed between her legs.
She rocked her hips atop him. “Ma
yhap we should have bathed separately.”
Titus covered her mouth with his and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
With a shudder, Elspeth slid her hands to his shoulders and obeyed his bidding. He tilted his hips, and his rock-hard manhood found her. This time, he slipped inside easily with scarcely a pinch. Joined, filled with his manhood, Elspeth circled her hips. Her legs gripped him while his hands held fast to her hips. The sinews of his neck stood proud as did the bulge of the muscles in his forearms. His golden eyes watched her as together their passion grew. Gasping, Elspeth shuddered over him—ever so close to her release.
Titus’s eyes rolled back. His mouth parted with a long ragged bellow. He arched his back and held her over him while Elspeth lost control. The peak of her own passion exploded as tremors racked her body. Panting, she dropped against him.
Powerful hands caressed her back. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I cannot imagine ever looking at you without longing to touch you.”
She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his stubble lightly grazing her forehead. “Ye must promise never to burn me at the stake.” She knew he would never do it, but she needed to speak the words. They were joined now they’d lain together—man and wife in her heart.
Titus chuckled. “I will never let any harm come to you.”
He set her down and they splashed the remaining dust from their bodies and cleansed their teeth. Elspeth led him to an outcropping of rock beside the waterfall and reclined in the sun. The air was cool, but the rocks beneath were warm, and it wasn’t long before they were dry.
She had never seen Titus so relaxed, his eyes closed, his body prone to the heavens. But when a fish jumped, he raised onto his elbow. “I am afraid we must go back to Vindolanda. However, I must first find you a set clothes.”
“Clothes again? I will never wear that ridiculous gown of Athena.”
“But it was lovely. You looked like a warrior angel.”
“And felt like an impish fairy. Besides, all those drapes were impractical.”
Titus swirled his finger around her belly button. “I was thinking you should return in disguise.”
Elspeth frowned at the thought of another of Titus’s ideas as to her costume, though a disguise did make sense. If one of the soldiers caught her away from Titus’s protection, she could be in peril. “And what have ye in mind?”
“We should dress you as a man.”
Her immediate disapproval was eased by her recollection of climbing the wall in the pouring rain with her wet gown weighing heavily upon her limbs. But then, baring her legs would give her away. Everyone would know she was a woman if they caught sight of her legs. “It would not be much of a disguise with me legs bare.”
“It would be treason if you dressed as a legionary, and a tunic is out of the question. We must find you a pair of long trousers like the Saxons wear. That combined with a tunic would conceal your delicious female form.” He ran a finger across her breasts, kissing the right and then the left. “Of course we shall need to bind these.”
Elspeth blushed at the immediate response of her nipples. Titus raised his chin and smoothed a gentle kiss across her lips. “Alas, I would love to pleasure you one more time, but we must make haste.”
****
Elspeth pulled the rope tight to hold up her breeches. Never in her life had she worn trousers—even Pict men wore pleated tunics, trousers were the garb of miserable Saxons. She bent forward to inspect her legs. The wool hugged them as if she were naked. With a deep breath, she pulled the branch aside and crept out of the copse in her newly acquired disguise. Titus had paid a farmer for the clothing. The woolens irritated the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, and her breast bindings made it difficult to breathe. She glanced at him with a crooked smile. “How do I look?”
Titus tied the laces on her linen shirt and pulled the thickly woven brown hood over her head to hide her face. “I still think we should have cut your hair.”
“Not me tresses.” She had tied it back and wrapped it under so it did not appear quite as long if her hood flew off in in a gale.
Titus stood back and eyed her from head to toe. “I suppose it will do. To me you could never look anything but female.” He stepped forward and inhaled. “And your smell. It attacks my senses.”
“Mayhap I should roll in horse dung.”
Titus laughed. “I think not. Just keep your distance from all men…except me, of course.” He bent down and rubbed his hand in the dirt and then brushed it across each of her cheeks. “A little grime might make your dainty features appear a bit more rugged.”
“Me thinks I should keep me distance from the likes of ye in public.”
“That is wise.”
They mounted and rode through the gates of Houseteads. Elspeth glanced at the guards, who ignored her without as much as a look. Good. That was exactly what she wanted—to blend in and not draw attention. She would not use her bow unless necessary to defend herself.
Titus cantered the mile to Vindolanda, tall in the saddle with an air of importance. Elspeth rode at his flank to show respect for his rank. She tried not to ogle his magnificence. The horsehair crest on his helmet shuddered in the breeze and his cloak whipped behind him. The muscles of his thighs bulged beneath his tunic as his practiced knees worked in concert with the horse’s fluid motion.
With authority, he rode through the gate, nodding to his soldiers. Elspeth pulled the hood down over her forehead to shadow her face. She noticed a few curious looks, but saw no recognition in the legionaries’ eyes.
But when Jonas stepped out of the tailor’s workshop, she tugged the hood lower over her forehead. He raised his hand. “Welcome back, sir.” His eyes panned to her, and he frowned.
Elspeth swallowed her urge to grin. The tailor would doubtlessly disapprove of her rough-hewn clothing and most likely wondered why Titus would keep audience with such a bedraggled peasant.
The stable hand was their next challenge. He recognized Tessie straight away. “I see you brought back the mare with a rider.”
Titus hopped off Petronius and tossed his reins to the soldier. “This peasant knows the language of the prisoner.” He did not move to help Elspeth dismount like he had before. She knew it was for show, and dismounting was practically as second nature to her as walking. The soldier leaned in and examined her. Elspeth quickly averted her face and pulled the hood lower.
“Where are you from?” the soldier asked.
Titus pushed between them before Elspeth could speak. “He hails from the north, beyond the wall.”
Titus marched her straight to the gaol. Before descending the stairs, he dismissed the guard to insure they would not be overheard. Elspeth pushed back her hood. Titus had not inquired about her stay in his gaol, but descending the stairs brought back the memories of her terror when the soldiers cast her inside that very cell and locked her in. Her hands trembled when she grasped the iron bars and assed the prisoner.
The Attacotti man crouched in the back corner of his cell.
“I c-ome to spe-ak,” Elspeth said in a broken form of Manx Gaelic. She struggled with the diphthongization and compensatory lengthening of words.
The man’s eyes flashed with understanding, and he scampered to the iron bars. “Can ye get me out of here?” He leaned in. “Ye’re a woman?”
“Aye.” She glanced at Titus who nodded enthusiastically, understanding nothing. “The Romans will treat you with leniency if you can tell them where to find Josias.”
“He will kill me if I betray him.” The man hung his head and kicked at the straw. “I’m a dead man either way.”
Elspeth translated this information to Titus.
He scratched the dark stubble on his unshaven chin. “Tell him we will relocate him to the Pict stronghold of Dunpelder.”
“What?” She shook her head. “We cannot. The king would never allow a pillaging Attacotti in the region of Gododdin, let alone the stronghold.”
�
�Tell him what I said. King Taran can decide what to do with him later.”
Elspeth faced the prisoner. “We offer you safe harbor in Dunpelder.”
The man eyed her suspiciously. “Seeking refuge with me greatest enemies? Why, a Pict would slit me throat the first time I closed me eyes to sleep.”
“Nay. We would honor you for your cooperation if ye agreed to live by Pict law.”
The prisoner spat.
Titus’s fists slid to his hips. “Tell him his choice is to hang from the gallows this day, or go to Dunpelder. I shall no longer feed a traitor who will not cooperate.”
Elspeth relayed Titus’s words. The prisoner wrapped his fingers around the bars and gaped at her with a black-eyed stare. “Josias is a Roman. He plundered Corbridge during the invasion, and built a tower of stone southeast of there.” His mouth turned down in a grimace. “He’s a man with no mercy and no soul.”
When Elspeth translated, Titus gave the prisoner a curt nod. “He will remain here until the traitor is captured. Then we shall arrange his passage north.”
The prisoner nodded when Elspeth translated the terms. But she had more questions. “How does Josias communicate with the Attacotti?”
“Our leader speaks Latin—only they converse.”
“And how many men does Josias employ?”
“A few dozen Attacotti—more Romans—men who were driven out during the raids.”
Footsteps shuffled from the stairwell. Elspeth whipped round, reaching for her hood. Recognition spread across Bacchus’s face. “You found her.”
Titus scooted Elspeth behind him. “She is here to help us find Josias, and for that I have granted her pardon.”
Bacchus rubbed his palm over the hilt of his sword. “Theodosius will not approve.”
“Let me handle the count.” Titus placed a hand on his optio’s shoulder. “Tell no one of her presence here.”
Elspeth met with Bacchus’s disapproving glare before she turned back to the prisoner. “We will escort ye to Gododdin after Josias is captured.”
