by Nicola Rose
Table of Contents
Cassian
Livia
Also by Nicola Rose
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Breaking the Gladiator
An ALPHA ATTRACTION novella
Nicola Rose
Copyright © 2018 Nicola Rose
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
For my favourite Motherfuckers!
Thanks for believing in me and giving me the push I needed!
(and the biscuits)
It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience.
Julius Caesar
Contents
1. Cassian
2. Livia
3. Livia
4. Cassian
5. Livia
6. Cassian
7. Livia
8. Livia
9. Livia
10. Livia
11. Cassian
12. Livia
13. Livia
14. Cassian
15. Livia
16. Cassian
17. Livia
18. Cassian
19. Livia
20. Livia
21. Cassian
22. Cassian
23. Livia
24. Livia
25. Cassian
26. Livia
27. Livia
28. Livia
29. Livia
30. Livia
31. Livia
32. Livia
33. Cassian
34. Cassian
35. Livia
36. Livia
37. Livia
38. Livia
39. Livia
40. Livia
41. Livia
42. Livia
43. Livia
44. Livia
45. Cassian
46. Livia
47. Livia
48. Livia
49. Livia
50. Livia
51. Livia
52. Livia
53. Cassian
Also by Nicola Rose
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
Cassian
A champion gladiator doesn’t feel love. How could he? His only passion is to win the next fight. Then the one after. And again.
If you’re one of the lucky ones you might even get paid well for winning. You might be able to save the money for a different kind of future. It’s rare, but there’s a chance you could buy your freedom.
This is me. I’m that gladiator. I win all my fights and I care for nothing else.
But I have a problem, and right now she’s riding my cock like I’m some sort of salvation. Like I offer her hope. As if I could offer anything to a woman like her.
I want to cut her out. Yank her from inside my chest, from that forbidden place that she creeps into. But my body sings under her devotion. It betrays my mind, making me forget. Coming alive at the touch of her fingers tracing the contours of my muscles. At the whisper of her lips as they brush against my ear. The pulse from her heart as it hammers against my own.
This is our time, when we can forget, when we can let go. The voices in my head go quiet. No more shouting, no more blood, no more pain.
Her teeth catch my ear and I shudder. “Are you mine, now and forever?” she asks, stealing the breath from my lungs with a slow circling of her hips.
I palm her ass as she straddles me, making love so languidly, as if we really do have forever. “Always,” I lie.
She leans down to taste my tongue. Casual. Erotic. Her little breasts offer the barest of caresses against my chest. “What if… if—” she starts, and stops, grabbing my roaming hands and going still. “Sssshh…”
I freeze, and listen for the terrifying sound of the ludus gates opening and closing with a gentle creak.
“Shit!” Livia lurches upwards, shoving me to my feet. “He’s home.”
“Felix? You said he was away for another two days?” I grab my leathers as she hastily throws on a tunic.
She smoothes the fabric over her slender curves and throws me a quick surveying glance. I’m just fastening a cuff to my forearm when she shouts, “Guard!”
Fuck!
He appears immediately, eyeing the cuff that is only half buckled. I drop my head and use every shred of willpower not to look upon her flushed face.
Noticing her undergarments by my feet, I subtly toe them under the bed, out of the way. I know what else she hides under there—
“Have Cassian taken back to the barracks immediately.” Her voice has returned to that pompous one that makes my teeth grind. Domina of the house. All warmth vanished, like a breath of air on a cold day.
The guard takes my arms behind my back and leads me to the door.
“Cassian,” she calls out, and we pause, my eyes resolutely on the ground where they belong. “Remember what I’ve told you at this meeting in preparation for the games tomorrow. It was imperative that I went over it with you in my husband’s absence.”
I don’t need to see her face to know that she would be watching the guard as she spoke slowly, praying to the Gods that he would buy her story. Or at least play along. What she forgets is that just because they’re beneath her, the slaves and guards aren’t imbeciles. Everyone knows what’s going on. And unless she develops a shred of kindness towards them soon, this will come crashing down around us.
“Domina,” I mutter, dipping my head into a deeper nod, and the guard escorts me back to my cell.
2
Livia
I allow myself the briefest minute to calm my nerves and, hopefully, for the sin to wash away from my flushed skin. Then I go to find him. It isn’t hard to locate his whereabouts within the ludus grounds. I only need to follow the giggles and yelps, the moans and grunts.
Entering the dining room on a gust of fake nonchalance, I find my husband thrusting himself down the mouth of his favourite slave girl, Aelia. Away for a week and he couldn’t even be bothered to come and find me first. He barely acknowledges me as I approach, casting a disappointed glance up and down my body before alighting his sights on the three girls masturbating over our dining chairs. One of them has her naked ass on my own chair.
I force my shoulders back and take a deep breath. “Felix, my love. How were the meetings and sales?”
“Boring as a fuck with your wife on a rainy day,” he replies, and Aelia giggles through her mouthful.
“You would allow her to disrespect me?” I swallow back the bitter taste in my throat.
“You disrespect yourself,” he spits, never releasing the hold on Aelia’s head as he thrusts faster into her face. He grabs a piece of fruit from the table platter, takes a bite, and speaks again as he chews, “What happened to you? You don’t sparkle like you used to.”
“A jewel cannot shine without light,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
I shove down every shred of dignity and slowly peel the dress from my skin, trying my hardest not to look into the corner of the room where I know his personal guard is standing. Titus has observed so many of my humiliations that it burns to even look at him now, knowing how much he loves it, knowing how much he surely wishes it was him dealing the damage. Something dark lurks in him. So dark that even Cassian sometimes comments on it; to warn me not to aggravate the guard, and never to find myself alone with him.
Felix quirks his br
ow as my tunic falls to the floor and reveals my lack of undergarments – as much a surprise to myself as it is to him. Stepping away from the fabric, I seat myself in his chair and spread my legs. Reluctantly, I tease my clitoris, but I don’t feel anything. No sparks, no pleasure. I want to close my eyes, so I can better see Cassian behind my lids. Instead I keep my gaze fixed on my despicable husband and allow only the barest of thoughts to drift to my gladiator.
I feel his heavily tattooed hands on me; strong, yet gentle. I hear his voice in my ear; rough, like the crunch of stone underfoot—
“Livia,” Felix barks, and my eyes snap open. It appears they had closed regardless. “Get over here. You look like you’re having too much fun.”
Heaven forbid.
I dutifully present myself to my husband, wincing as his eyes rake over me in their menacing way.
“Turn around,” he orders, bending me over the dining table so that I have no choice but to face Titus. He will only fuck me like this now – from behind, so that he doesn’t have to look upon my face. The face that will forever be scarred after a drunken fight and the slash of a broken bottle.
“You! Come here.” Felix has discarded Aelia, leaving her on her knees. Even his favourite girl doesn’t get decent treatment. He clicks his fingers to one of the others. “Stand before me girl. Let me see those perky young tits as I fuck this haggard old witch.”
3
Livia
By the time Felix has satisfied himself by climaxing into every orifice of every girl present, the sun has crept over the horizon to a new day. I’m so tired, so desperate to curl up and relish the nothingness that only sleep can bring.
But today is the day of an important games on the calendar. There will be feasting, parades, animal displays, executions of criminals, and of course, the gladiatorial combats. And as the wife of such a high-class noble, I shall be expected to endure it all with a smile. Not only to endure, but to enjoy it. And I would, were I not so lost in fear.
Fear of being caught. Fear of losing him. Fear that one day he may die and I shall never feel that touch again.
“For the sake of Neptune’s Cock, woman! Go bathe and change. You look like something I shit out after breakfast,” Felix slaps my ass in dismissal.
So I follow his command, as if I’m no more than a slave myself. I clean, and dress, and after a long confused search find my undergarments under the bed – along with the kitchen knife that I keep there for safety.
All too soon I’m seated beside my husband in our front row tier at the arena, sweating in the blistering heat.
The parades pass in a blur, as do most of the attractions. I nod, and smile, and clap.
Felix talks business with a variety of men who come and go. Sometimes their wives join me and I have to make pleasant talk with them. I find one lady staring at my wrist and after that I remember to keep it hidden beneath the folds of my dress. Hiding the bruising from Felix’s grip last night. At least today my eyes aren’t black.
“He’s going to make me a fortune, you know.”
“Hmm?” Felix is staring and I realise he’s speaking to me for the first time in hours. I have no idea how much of it I missed, but he looks irritated.
“Forgive me, who are we talking about?” I enquire.
“Cassian! For fuck’s sake, woman, listen when you’re spoken to.”
I nod in apology. Titus, who is glued to Felix as always, offers me a sneer.
“It’s imperative that we keep him well treated. Let the other gladiators witness the special treatment for a house champion, give them something to strive for. The lanista is training him hard, and in return he will be well fed and cared for. You will ensure this happens when I’m away on business,” Felix continues, and I fear the flush that has surely crept into my cheeks. “Oh, and I already agreed with Vitus that for every fight he wins from here forward, he shall be rewarded with a slave girl for the night. He is a beast of a man and needs fulfilment.”
I clear my throat, “As you wish.”
4
Cassian
The underground chambers are stifling while we wait, already having been briefed and instructed on what’s expected of us for this event. Some men are shackled, here only to be executed. No honour, no chance to fight. These men shrink into themselves, detaching from the horror that awaits.
Others, slaves like myself, pace anxiously, adjusting armour and weapons. Eager to get on with it. I stand still and quiet, though – watching them all. Assessing my opponents.
If we’re contained in this tunnel for much longer, barely any air to breathe, then fights will break out before we even reach the arena.
The guards know it. The lanista knows it. They keep a hand on their weapons, ready to beat us back into submission if we unleash our fury too soon. Tensions are high. Death is expected and anticipated.
The only death I anticipate is that of my opponents. May the Gods have mercy on them, because I won’t.
From the day I was taken as a teenage boy I’ve had to bow down. To men, women, even children. I’ve been sold and beaten. Destroyed. Broken.
And then the pieces rebuilt into what they wanted. A monster. A pet monster. One who is strong enough to destroy them in a second, yet still bows down when asked.
In the arena I’m free. There, I bow to no one. There… they quiver before me and beg for mercy.
I’m loved. Adored. The crowd cheer and chant my name, because I’m someone.
I am Death.
5
Livia
The executions are boring. Once, I would have found them a thrill. Now they barely register through the haze in my brain. It’s a struggle to focus on anything other than thoughts of him. Exhilaration and fear, bringing me to life.
But out here, enduring life as this woman; this fake, obedient wife? Here I feel nothing. The blood coating the arena does nothing to stir me, except perhaps to make me think more of him. To anticipate the beauty of the champion unleashed.
I’m restless, impatient for his turn. Felix can tell. He’s giving me aggravated glares. I clutch my hands in my lap and watch the final parade streaming into the open space before us. The musicians and performers whip the crowd into a frenzy. They can’t wait to see their favourite gladiator either. His popularity has tripled his value in recent months.
And there he is. The prized Thracian. A towering wall of solid muscle. Heavy black tattoos cover his arms, his entire back, right up his neck to his chin. Tattoos are considered a thing of punishment and shame. He has, of course, been branded with our house mark, but it is tiny compared to those that he has willingly applied. Money earned from his victories in battle has paid for them all, and he wears them with pride. He wants the world to know he is Thracian. Felix allows it because the crowd are mad for it.
Crazy for this true Barbarian brute. Savage and brutal. Exotic and exciting.
He stalks through the Gate of Life and takes his place in the centre of the arena, relishing in the frantic applause and cheering. The procession fades away, leaving only Cassian and his opponent – facing each other, awaiting the order to begin.
Cassian shrugs his shoulders, loosening muscles, and makes a final adjustment to the armour that covers one shoulder. Sword and shield loose in his confident hands. He toes the sand, not a care in the world, and then his head raises, his eyes scan the maddening crowd… and they settle on me.
An involuntary gasp escapes my throat. What is he thinking?!
But his gaze only lingers for a second, and then he’s staring his opponent down. No one seems to have noticed the heat in my face, the panic in my eyes.
All except Felix’s brother, Marcus, who smirks at me.
And then the fight has begun, and the deafening applause of the crowd is almost enough to drown out the hammering of my heart.
6
Cassian
I don’t understand why, but I can’t resist looking to her for approval. Or to check she’s still there. Check that she’s alright—<
br />
The Gaul’s sword clangs down against the metal armour over my shoulder.
Fuck!
The impact brings me to my knees. There’s blood. His sword probably scraped below the armour as he withdrew. I roll away as he comes in for another strike, and I’m swiftly on my feet again.
Did Felix see that I was looking at her? I should know better than to look. If he knew, if he found out—
The Gaul strikes again and I stumble, only just missing the blade. The crowd jeer in disapproval.
Fucking Gods! What is wrong with me?
I shake my head and snap my attention to my opponent. He’s smaller than me, and slower. Far less skilled. The fact that he got a strike through on me is humiliating and the crowd know it.
Gathering the battle rage, honing it deep within my core, I let silence wash through me. I can’t hear the audience anymore. I track his movements as he goes to attack again, leaving it to the last second before I weave away. He turns, and I feint left, then strike on the right. My scimitar cuts across his thigh and blood spills to the sand.
