“You shouldn’t feel guilty about that, Floriana.”
“I do, and I miss it. I long for it every day. I curse the illness that took my father. I curse his family for their ugliness.”
“It was their right.”
“The gods hate me too. But so many have it worse.”
He kissed my neck. “That’s why we must steal our happiness whenever we can. The bastards won’t give it to us. We have to take it.”
I snaked my arms around his neck. “Then so we shall.”
“I meant what I said last night. If you can get away, meet me in the garden.”
“Won’t we get caught?”
“Everyone in the ludus is asleep by eight.”
“You should too. You need your rest.”
He held my face, gazing into my eyes. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Until then I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
I was nearly speechless, unaccustomed to such romantic gestures. “Oh.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.”
A renewed tension sprang up between us, as something hard pressed into my bottom. “You were my first, Marcus Ahala.”
“I love the way my name sounds on your lips.”
“I’m so glad it was you.”
“I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”
That was quite an admission. “Really?”
“What about you? You wanted me too. Admit it.”
“No.”
“You lie.”
I grinned, knowing he was right. “Provoking those soldiers was stupid.”
He smiled. “I’d do it all over again, if I had to.”
This stolen time was precious. It was a gift. I touched his face, feeling the abrasive quality of his skin. “I think you may be more lover than fighter, oh brave and stupid gladiator.”
“Can’t I be both?” he chuckled.
My body hummed with the pleasure of his nearness, as I kissed him, tasting him, invading him with my tongue. Strong arms closed around my back, pressing me to his naked chest, which felt like heated steel. I straddled him, sitting on the jutting end of his cock that twitched beneath my ass.
“You’re magnificent,” he murmured.
“Oh, Marcus.”
“You drive me to distraction. I’ll never forget last night. Ever.”
“Hummm…” I kissed his neck, scraping my teeth against his skin. A plump earlobe was in my mouth being suckled and nibbled on, while his hands grasped at my tunic, untying the belt and lifting the material over my head.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, heat flaring in his eyes. “Let’s free your hair.” He pulled out several pins, releasing the long, black locks. “That’s better.”
My hips had a will of their own, as I sat on him, rubbing against his cock, but his loincloth and my subligaria prevented these areas from touching. He lifted me to my knees, my breasts dangling in his face, while he caught a nipple, gently sucking. My fingertips threaded through his hair, feeling the softness of the strands.
His face was smothered in my breasts. “Ah, now this is heaven.” I suddenly found myself on the ground, with soft grass at my back. His look was fierce, his eyes dark and demanding. “Is this my body?”
“What?”
“Do you give yourself to me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I…yes.”
“I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Do you belong to me, Floriana? Is every little part of you mine?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good.” He grasped my underthings and pulled them down my legs, exposing me entirely. His fingertips traced the curve of my belly, skimming over the skin and lower to my quivering mound. “Beautiful.” I tingled where he touched me, feeling wetness between my legs. His look smoldered; his eyes were glossy with the intoxicating effect of lust. A trail of kisses descended, leaving moist spots on my stomach. The pleasure was so intense; I flung my head back and gazed through the branches to the pale blue sky beyond.
“Oh, Marcus…” He’d drifted lower to tease my throbbing anatomy.
“So wet.”
“Ooohhh…” His thumb ran circles over my nub, creating a firestorm of sensation. I closed my eyes, hoping he would invade me with his tongue.
“Is this what you want?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yeeesss…do it.”
A low growl left his throat right before he devoured me, his thick tongue sliding to the silken slit. The intensity of the feeling had me thrusting my hips into his mouth, wanting more. My chest rose and fell, forcing the mass of my breasts to jiggle. His tongue drove deep, filling me with wetness, while a persistent thumb toyed with my clit. I moaned helplessly, the sound drifting into the trees. His skill was not to be underestimated, and, after only a few minutes, the edges of release beckoned, far too soon.
I reached for him. “Wait! You should stop.”
“That’s a shame. You were nearly there.”
“I was. Let me…eat you.”
“That sounds barbaric,” he chuckled.
“You know what I mean. It’s your turn now.”
He touched my face, his amusement vanishing. “Everywhere I look, I’m blinded by beauty.”
My heart melted in that instant, and I lost myself in the ocean of his eyes, but I would not be waylaid by emotion. “Give me your cock, gladiator,” I commanded. “I crave red meat.”
Chapter Twelve
He burst out laughing, “You bloodthirsty wench! Perhaps, you should join me in the arena. There are female gladiators you know.”
“It’s not my calling.”
“No. You were made for fucking, not fighting.”
I pushed against his chest. “You’re right about that. Now, lie down, and let me attend you.”
His grin was roguish. “If you insist.”
“Oh, I do.” I grasped his phallus, feeling the heated length of him. “This is rather nice. You’ve taken good care of it.”
“I try,” he chuckled.
“Has it seen many brothels?”
“Not as many as I’ve liked.”
“That’s a shame.” I licked the rounded tip. “What happens in a brothel?”
“What do you think?”
“Titus won’t go. He says the women scare him.”
“That’s the senator’s son, right?”
“Yes.”
“He’s young. He needs something fresher than an old whore.”
“I know.”
His interest sharpened. “What?”
“He visits us at night.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ve been forced to initiate him in the ways of sex.”
“I thought you were a virgin? You were a virgin.”
“I was. Alba and Decima fucked him. I…sucked his cock a time or two.”
“Now I understand.”
“I hardly had a choice.”
“I’m not passing judgment.” He grinned. “Let’s see if all your practicing has paid off.”
I marveled at his size. “This’ll be more than a mouthful.” I licked a wet path across the tip, producing a manly moan. Then I sucked him, tasting salty pre-release.
“Aaahhh…” he fell to the grass. “You’re very good at this.”
He was laced with hidden veins, which throbbed with blood. I laved my way to his scrotum, which had been shaved clean, and grasped heavy balls, pulling them away from his body. I wet both sacs, enjoying his moans, as his hands tangled in my hair. From there I ascended towards the crown, where I worked vigorously.
“Yes…ooohhh…yes…” I took him to the back of my throat. “That’s wonderful…” I nearly choked on the length, but I was determined to please my gladiator. “I shall spend myself soon if you don’t stop,” he warned.
“What will we do?”
“You can ride me, if you wish.”
“I’ve never done that.”
“Get on. I’ll sho
w you.”
Straddling his broad hips, I lowered, while he held himself upright. He slid into my tight sheath, embedding to the balls. “Oh, my goodness!” He had opened me up to impossible breadths.
“Now move back and forth.” He grasped my hips. “Rub into me.”
This position was slightly embarrassing, because my breasts jiggled and bounced in his face. He didn’t seem to mind the distraction, and, as my hips gained momentum, the nipples flew in tiny circles. My clit pressed into his pelvis, leaving me trembling and breathless.
“I think I like this!”
“Most women do.”
“Oh! It’s…so good.”
He smiled slightly, enjoying watching me pleasuring myself on him. “That’s it. You got it, my little slave minx.”
“Oh…Marcus!” I ground low, taking him deep, feeling him inside my belly. “Ooohhh…”
“Fuck me, Floriana. Fuck me, you dirty girl.”
I flung my head back, my hair falling over his thighs, and moaned. It was a call as wild and organic as the earth itself. I felt like Venus, conquering Mars, the god of war. This gladiator was mine and I could use him for my pleasure. His cock was the instrument that would send me to paradise.
“Oooohhh…” I thrust sharply, just as the first wave hit me. My hands fell to his chest, where I kneaded him, while my face grimaced with the force of the climax. “Ooohhh…Marcus!” I shuddered and collapsed on him, breathless and floored by what I had just experienced. He held me while he pulsed and throbbed inside my pussy.
“You’re even more beautiful when you cum.”
“That was…it was intense.”
“Get on your knees.”
“As you wish, gladiator.”
Marcus slid free, leaving the wetness of my own juices on my inner thighs. He got behind me, grasping my hips, wedging between the cheeks of my buttocks. I held onto the rough bark of the tree for support. He entered me with one push, breaching the slippery tunnel easily.
“This won’t take long,” he rasped. “You feel incredible. So hot and tight.” He thrust deeply, with restrained violence, his body trembling from the force of his passion. “Floriana!” His guttural oath drifted towards the villa, while he drove to the balls and stiffened, jetting a thick stream of fluid all the way to my womb. His face was in my neck. “Floriana…”
He held me like this for long moments, until his seed slid down my inner thighs. We collapsed to the grass and reached for me. I snuggled into him, cocooned in the safety of his arms, and basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking.
“Floriana!” called a female voice, which I recognized to be Alba’s.
“Oh no.” I sat, grabbing my tunic. “I have to go.”
“That’s unfortunate. I thought she would take longer.”
“I guess not.” I sprang to my feet. “I’ll be in the garden tonight.” I tossed the tunic over my head, thrusting my arms through the sleeves.
Heat flared in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting.”
He lay there like a Greek God, his body bronzed from the sun, laced with scars and muscles; his flaccid member nestled between his thighs. I felt an extraordinary pull, an unwillingness to part, which tightened my stomach into bittersweet knots. I wanted nothing more than to stay with him, to love him. He jumped to his feet, and I flung myself at him, kissing his chest.
“Marcus.”
“Maybe this was ill-advised.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be an even worse distraction now.”
“I’m not sorry.” He smelled of musk and grass, with a hint of perspiration. “I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.”
“Let’s run away together.” A crazy compulsion hit me. “Right now! Let’s just run.”
He held my face. “There’s no honor in running. We’ll be together when we can, Floriana. Now, go to your mistress before there’s trouble.”
I kissed him, my tongue sliding into his mouth, tasting his honeyed nectar. He held me close, nearly crushing me, yet I wouldn’t stop the kisses, wanting so much more.
“Floriana!”
He pushed me away gently. “Go. We’ll meet later.” I stepped into my sandals and tied the belt around my waist. I stared at him, my feet refusing to move. “Nunc scio quid sit amor,” he murmured. He had said: now I know what love is.
My response was, “In aeternum te amabo,” which meant: I will love you for all eternity. The air suddenly crackled with energy; the power of those words were not to be taken lightly.
“Floriana!”
“Shit!” It took everything I had to walk away from him, leaving him standing naked in the olive grove.
Alba eyed my approach. “What took you so long?”
“What do you think?”
“Help us take Mistress Getha to the house. She isn’t able to walk.”
“Great.”
After Octavia had been put to bed, I sat with Alba and Decima in the garden, taking advantage of our mistress’s temporary incapacitation. It was rare that we had a moment to ourselves.
“What happened with the gladiators?” I asked.
“Can’t you imagine?” Decima laughed. “They enjoyed Mistress Getha very well.”
“And she enjoyed having them,” said Alba. “What did you do with Marcus Ahala?”
“Take a guess.”
“We should have some wine to celebrate Floriana’s ravishment. Was he a good lover?”
“He’s wonderful.” I smiled, memories flooding, leaving me buzzing with pleasure.
Decima touched my arm. “Be careful. This is a dangerous game you play. It’s one thing to have the senator’s blessing. It’s quite another to sneak around, especially with someone who has sworn the oath of sacramentum. He might’ve been a free man, but he’s a slave now. He’s contracted to his master.”
“He’ll earn his freedom. He wants to buy his way out of debt. Then he’ll farm again.”
“That’s his goal, but where does that leave you?” asked Alba. “You’ll always be a slave.”
She spoke the truth, and her words weren’t a surprise, but why did they make me feel utterly forlorn? “Thank you for reminding me. I’d completely forgotten my miserable lot in life.”
“I didn’t mean to spoil your happiness, Floriana. I just want you to be careful.”
“Can’t I enjoy this brief time with my gladiator? I’m not stupid enough to ask for more.”
Decima put her arm around me. “We’ll help you in any way we can. It’s rare to find such happiness, especially for people like us. I’m horribly jealous.”
“Me too,” laughed Alba. “You have to tell us everything in detail and let us live vicariously through you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Octavia was in rare form the next morning, barking out orders for a party she wanted to throw that evening. I was exhausted, not having slept much. I met Marcus last night, and he took me to the Hortus, which was a small enclosed garden surrounded by a wall. We made love for hours and drank wine, whilst staring at the stars overhead. It had been blissful and magical, but the need for sleep had drawn us apart in the early hours of morning.
I yawned helplessly, as I manipulated hair into a towering wig. I sat with Decima in a small workroom connected to our mistress’s bedchamber. “What’s all the shouting about?” Raised voices were beneath us. It sounded like women screaming at each other.
“Octavia argued with Caelia this morning, and she yelled at the kitchen slaves,” said Decima. “Did you know her brother, Vacerra, came to visit?”
“I must’ve been at the forum when that happened.”
“I overheard some of their conversation. He confirmed that her inheritance is gone. She’s born three children, so she does have the right of jus trium liberorum.”
This was significant. It meant Octavia was no longer under her father’s or her husband’s power. Her children’s inheritance could be hers as well and whatever remained of Senator Getha’s esta
te upon his death.
“It’s all hers, but it’s gone,” I said.
“Not exactly. Her brother implored her to remain complicit and deferential to her husband. He assured her that the money was an investment. It would more than double and triple when the games begin.” Decima whispered, “She said she wanted to poison him.”
I gasped, “No!”
She nodded. “She was angry, but I could tell she meant it. Vacerra talked her out of it, but I have to wonder if she won’t follow through with it.”
My mind spun with the possibilities of having the senator dead. Would Marcus continue at the ludus and fight in the arena or would he be sent away? Would Octavia further her husband’s plan? It was wildly expensive to participate in the games. It was easy for the senator to obtain sponsors, who wished to gain influence, but Octavia would have nothing to bargain with.
“She won’t kill him,” I said. “It makes no sense. She’s angry, but she wouldn’t be stupid enough to poison him. She stands to gain nothing from such an act.”
Decima poured herself a glass of wine, which had been watered down substantially. “That’s true. She’s up to something, though. I’ve never seen her so enraged.”
“You’ve been in this house your entire life.”
“Yes. The Dominus has always provided for Octavia and his children. They used to live in another house in Palatine, and it wasn’t nearly as nice as this. Caelia will marry well, and Titus will inherit. We just have to prevent Octavia from killing her husband, and everything will be fine.” She smiled slightly. “What a muddle.”
“Who are the guests tonight?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“I have to finish this damn wig.”
“And I have to polish silver bangles.”
“The joys never cease.” Decima gave me a look, silently agreeing with me.
After the wig was complete and the silver gleamed, we dressed Octavia for her evening of enjoyment. The sounds of harp music could be heard beneath the trills of female laughter. Our mistress’s spirits had improved with the day, her anticipation of tonight was infectious, and the entire house was whispering about the event.
Conquest of the Gladiator (An Erotic Romance) Page 7
