Asterius_An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance
Page 14
For a moment she was lost in her thoughts imagining, I assumed, what it might be like to share her husband with many women. Finally, she gave herself a little shake and went on.
“I’ve got a lamb stew cooking. As soon as my man comes in I’ll dish it up. I’ll knock on the floor to tell you when to come down,” Magda told us, assuming we had accepted the deal.
I followed her to the door and removed a silver denarius from my pouch at my belt. She accepted it without testing it with her teeth. I took this to be a sign we were now trusted, if short-term, members of her household.
Once the door was closed, I turned to look at my ‘wife’, who had moved to the window and was staring out at the sea. Hadn’t she got enough of that view over the last three and a half days?
“This is nice. Not as luxurious as I am used to... but nice,” she muttered shyly, as she kept her gaze on the view.
“Accalia, sit down please,” I said, taking a seat on the side of the bed and patting the spot next to me.
Reluctantly, she did as I asked. Her gaze remained on the window.
“We are going to be sharing this room for a week or two. Not only will we be sharing a chamber pot but there will be needs I will have to meet if I am to keep my hands off you. I will be discrete, but you need to know about that.”
She stared at me with wide eyes. “Needs? The fighting and fucking you spoke of?”
I groaned. Why had I phrased it that way? I had reduced myself and my pack to beasts. How could I expect her to see me in any other way now?
“Being without a woman builds up pressure in a man. It has to be relieved. When there’s no woman available, a man uses his hand to do it. A woman can do the same, so I’m told.”
That got her attention. Her eyes, which moments ago I called wide, were even more so now. She swallowed audibly. “I do not understand.”
Why had I thought this conversation was a good idea? Because I knew I would be using my hand tonight and I wanted her to know why. Or what was happening.
Though she worked as a physician and must understand how babies came into being, it didn’t mean she knew anything about the details of sex. She wouldn’t have seen it happening and no one would likely have explained it to her. Certainly not Ariaratus.
I don’t know what came over me, but suddenly I was annoyed with her innocence. A slave girl couldn’t have reached her age and remained as innocent as this patrician was.
My erection had been present from the moment Magda closed the door. I grabbed up Accalia’s hand and slapped it none-too-gently onto it, enjoying the pleasure and pain of the blow.
“That’s a man’s erect organ you’re feeling. You may have seen one when it’s flaccid. But that’s what it’s like when it’s aroused. When a man is ready to take a woman. And when it stays aroused it gets painful, so a man relieves himself by stroking up and down, like that.” I ran her limp hand up and down my length.
Gods, I was being a fool!
I looked into her face to judge her reaction. She seemed shocked and bemused.
“Do you understand?”
“I think so. You will be running your hand up and down this at night. Is that the end of it? Just up and down? That makes you feel better?”
Her fingers had curled around my shaft and were now moving up and down as I had shown her. The pleasure had me moaning and leaning back on the bed to give her better access.
“That is not the end of it,” I growled out as more pleasure rolled over me. This was not like the touch of a whore, or like my own hand. This was Accalia touching me in the most intimate of ways. In my daydreams I had her doing this, but those wild imaginings were a pale imitation of what it really felt like to have my she-wolf’s hands on me.
“Why are you so tense? If this is meant to soothe you...” Her hand kept running up and down my length.
What would it feel like to have skin-on-skin? Could I do that? Would she allow it? Would she consider it stayed within acceptable behaviour? There was a lot that could be done without her losing her virginity, if not her innocence.
The more she stroked me, the more reasonable it seemed. And if I could get her to ease me, I might be able to survive these weeks sharing a bed with her without claiming her.
Chapter Thirteen
ACCALIA
I had never seen anything so beautiful as Asterius leaning back on his muscular arms, his handsome face transfixed by sublime pleasure. What he had me doing seemed wrong, and yet... and yet it did not. Because this was Asterius. One of my pack. A man I knew I loved with all my heart and had since I was twelve years old.
This was all new to me. Certainly, I had seen animals mate. The male’s erection always fascinated me at the same time as horrifying me, because it seemed to cause the female pain when it was forced into her body.
But now I was seeing a man’s erection for the first time. Well, no, I was feeling it. I could not see it under his loin cloth and tunic. And what I was doing to Asterius seemed to have him captivated. I felt... powerful. He was a huge man. Yet in this moment I controlled him because of what I was doing. This simple stroking motion controlled him.
It made him feel better, he had said. I was not sure that was entirely true. He looked anything but relaxed. His breaths were coming in pants now and he threw back his head revealing the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders. I wanted to see his body as I had seen it on the training field, muscles pumped and defined, skin glistening with sweat. Beautiful and raw. Enticing and terrifying.
I went to pull away, frightened by what I wanted.
Asterius’ hand shot out and stopped me. “Please,” he panted. “Please, don’t stop. You need to see what happens. Can... Can you handle me revealing myself to you?”
Curious, despite myself, I nodded. “Will you take off your tunic?”
“Do you want me to take off my tunic?” he asked, his voice so low it sent shivers through me.
I could not have spoken then if my life had depended on it. Instead, I simply nodded. He undid his belt and threw it aside, the sword, dagger and money pouch clattering as they hit the floor. Then, in one graceful move, Asterius had his tunic up over his head and added to the pile on the floor.
Gods! He was more beautiful than I remembered. There was no hair on his torso, except for a light trail running from his belly button to below his loincloth. His chest muscles were taut and bulging, his stomach flat. I had seen statues of gods who did not look as beautiful as this. A small pouch of coins dangled down to his ridged diaphragm on a strip of leather. It only added to his appeal.
He undid the loincloth to reveal what lay beneath. I caught my breath in wonder. This did not look like the rampant male animals I had seen. This long, pale shaft of flesh topped by a mushroom was... unique.
I could not help but touch it. Oh, it was so soft that I shivered with delight! Like a horse’s nose. Touching it came as naturally to me as breathing, in that moment. I let my fingers take pleasure from the silk of it, the heat of it, ever mindful of Asterius’ reactions.
He was back to reclining on his elbows, his body fully exposed to me. But his half-lidded eyes were burning as they watched my every move.
“How long do you stroke like this before you feel relief?” I said when I found my voice. Although how I found it I was not sure, as my mouth seemed very dry. I wished there was water to drink in the room.
“Not long. Not with you doing it. Not long at all. Gods, she-wolf, that feels so good,” he said before letting out a soft moan.
I felt inordinately happy that I was making him feel good. I wished I had such an organ, so I could stroke it and feel good like this.
But had Asterius not said something about women being able to ease themselves too? How? I had no erection to stroke.
“Harder and faster,” Asterius ordered, his expression changing and becoming almost angry.
I was doing it wrong, clearly. So I tightened my hand around the girth, the thick girth, and began moving up and down more quick
ly.
It was not enough. Asterius fell back on the bed and brought his hands up to surround mine, moving it in the way he wanted. I let him, fascinated by what I was watching. I should have felt embarrassed or ashamed, but I did not. I was just curious and oddly excited. I knew something was coming, but I did not know what.
When he let out a cry, a white liquid spewed from the tip of his shaft in a pulsing stream. Like an arterial bleed, but white. I could smell a musky, astringent scent in the air. This was a man’s seed. This was what he used to impregnate a woman! How amazing!
When it came to an end, Asterius collapsed back on the bed, his muscles finally relaxing.
“Are... Are you all right?” I asked tentatively.
He gave a gruff and tired little laugh. “Oh, yes, she-wolf, I’m more than all right. Come, lie here beside me while I recover. That was quite a build up of tension I just released.”
I crawled up onto the bed and lay my head on his sweat-dampened shoulder. I felt oddly at peace. It felt like I wore a cat’s smug smile in that moment.
“Is it always like that?” I asked when I heard his heartbeat slowing.
I loved listening to the sound. I had done so during the three nights we had slept on the ship. It had lulled me to sleep listening to the slow, rhythmic pounding beneath my ear.
What the sailors had thought about two males curled up together, I do not know. But we had not cared. I needed a comfortable place to rest my head, and Asterius had been happy to provide it. The deck had been very hard, and I had even looked back with fond thoughts to the filthy pallets Marcus and I had shared on the road to Rome. At least they had been soft.
“The process is always pretty much the same. The pleasure... well, that changes.” His voice was low and sleepy. It stroked my senses in the most pleasing way possible. I wanted him to keep talking.
“How does it change?”
“I don’t know. In intensity, I suppose. It’s more intense the longer I’ve gone without a release. It also depends on who’s doing the work.”
“Who? I thought you said you did that to yourself?”
He sighed. “Yes, and that’s the least pleasurable way. Then there’s a woman’s hands on me. Like you just did. Then there’s your hands on me. Then there’s... well, other things. Levels of pleasure.”
“Why do you say a woman’s hands and then my hands. Am I not a woman?”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “You’re more than a woman. You’re the woman. My woman. And because it was you giving me ease, it was wonderful. As good as actual sex with some other woman.”
“You mean prostitutes? Whores? The women you have fucked since you were fifteen?” I used that word because it hurt me to say it. I hated it because it reminded me of rutting animals. And imagining this beautiful man rutting some whore made me feel sick to my stomach.
I should not feel that way. It was wrong to feel that way. I could not complain when he or his pack got what they needed elsewhere when I chose not to meet those needs. Yet my heart did not see it that way. Just as it did not see that loving more than one man, all gladiator-slaves, was wrong. It just did what it wanted.
“Yes,” Asterius said tiredly. “Yes, whores. I’m sorry if that offends you.”
I shook my head and enjoyed the sensation of his skin on my cheek. “I am not offended. I am just... I hate to think of you with someone else. I understand your need and would never try to stop you... but it hurts to think of some other woman doing what I just did to you.”
He drew me up, so our heads were even on the soft mattress. His brown eyes were almost black, his pupils were so dilated.
“We choose a girl who looks a little like you. I imagine it is you when I’m with her. I... I think the others do the same. I know Typhon does. He’s loved you with every part of that intense heart of his ever since you sewed up his dagger wound.”
I was not sure how I felt about that revelation. Did it make it better or worse that he imagined me when he took another woman? The place between my legs felt suddenly achy and odd. Like I needed to use the chamber-pot even though I knew I did not.
“Are you offended about that?” he asked, stroking my cheek with his fingertips. His eyes were soft, and I could read yearning in them. It made my core ache even more.
A loud thump, thump, thump on the floorboards defused the moment. I sprang from the bed as if we had been caught doing something wrong. And, of course, we had been doing something wrong. I had been pleasuring one of Pater’s slaves. Gods, what would he think if he knew? He would be so disappointed in me.
Asterius rose gracefully—too gracefully for such a heavily muscled man—and began to wash himself at the basin. Oh, good, that scent would have given us away. Given away what we were doing up here.
I blushed. I knew I was blushing because my cheeks were suddenly on fire. How could I have let Asterius lead me into doing that? He had promised not to tempt me!
When he dressed and turned to me, ready to go down for our meal, his face hardened.
“You hate me now? I didn’t take your precious innocence. You’re still a virgin!”
I scowled at him. “You know we should not have done that.”
“Gods, woman! What do you take me for, a eunuch? I told you there’d be intimacies we couldn’t avoid, sharing this room. Now you know what I’ll be doing while you sleep soundly at my side. It won’t frighten you now if you awaken to the sounds I make.”
That made sense, of course. It would have upset me hearing him cry out like that. But still...
“Are you hating me yet?” he grumbled, as he reached to open the door.
“No..oo,” I said tentatively. “I understand why you did it. I accept the necessity of it. Even though it was wrong.”
“Sharing a bed with a slave is wrong, Little Mistress. Loving slaves with all your heart is wrong. Being a physician is wrong. Why do you want to stop being wrong on just this one thing? This one thing, which might be wrong as far as your class is concerned, yet is anything but wrong when it comes to following your heart. And you have always followed your heart, my fierce little she-wolf.”
And with that he opened the door and strode down the stairs, leaving me to follow in his angry wake.
After a delicious meal, we returned to our room. My nerves were on edge. It felt like every inch of my skin was alive and tingling. I could not decide if it was a good sensation or a bad one. It seemed like something was building inside me. Pressure. And I had no idea what to do with it.
Asterius had not said a word to me since we left our room. Instead, he had entertained our hosts with made up stories of our courting, his business plans and his life in Rome. All the while I sat silently at his side enjoying his tales.
He was angry with me, and I understood why. It must seem illogical to him that I would do all those other things that were considered wrong for a dutiful noblewoman like myself and yet stop at this one thing.
But it felt like I needed to retain my virginity. I had been taught my whole life that it did not belong to me. It belonged to the man I would marry. Only he could claim it. I simply held it in safekeeping for him.
I knew of ways to hide the fact that I was not a virgin, if need be. Yet I did not want to cheat my husband of his due. Though I could not imagine doing so, I might one day love the man Pater chose for me. It would be too cruel to have given away to another what belonged to him.
Asterius wordlessly took a pillow and cover off the bed and deposited them on the mat-covered floor across the outer doorway. I stared at him, my heart breaking a little. This was going to be the way of it then? He was going to punish me with silence and distance for not following my heart?
Well it was my heart. I was the one who chose where I followed it and when. So I lay down on the bed and tried to sleep.
The darkness surrounded me like a warm blanket. I could smell the now familiar scent of the sea on the air. Downstairs I heard the soft dinging of the copper bell at the front door. It
was very peaceful, and yet... I was anything but peaceful. I felt raw and needy.
I tossed and turned on the bed, missing the sound of Asterius’ heartbeat. Tears pricked at my eyes.
“Will you go to sleep!” Asterius demanded some time later.
“I cannot,” I choked out, keeping my tears from falling, but unable to disguise the sound of them in my voice.
“Why?”
“I do not know. I... I feel edgy, and it feels like my skin does not fit me properly. And I miss the sound of your heartbeat. Do you have to sleep down there?”
He sighed heavily. “You are feeling sexual frustration. So am I. Just... Just try to forget about it.”
“Will... Will you do what I did to you earlier?”
“Probably. When you’ve gone to sleep.” His voice sounded grumpy and annoyed.
“Let me do it for you again. If... If it is better that way.”
“Not a good idea. I don’t want you hating me.”
“I will not hate you. I think that as long as I do not give away what belongs to my husband... whoever he might be... it would be all right.”
He rose slowly from the floor and joined me on the bed. I could barely make out his features in the darkness. But when he loomed over me, I felt only relief and excitement.
“Would you like to learn how to ease that edginess?” he asked on a low growl.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure he could see me.
“I’m going to have to touch you in intimate places. Are you all right with that?” he asked, his voice a steady growl.
I nodded again. He must have seen it because he settled at my side and began running his hands down my body. I was sleeping in the boy’s tunic I had bought, to keep my gown from getting crushed. His hand slid under the tunic. I normally wore nothing under my gowns but always wore a loincloth under my tunic. Tonight I was dressed as if in a gown.