Seduced by the Gladiator (23 page)

Lungs beginning to ache from the lack of air, I felt drugged by something thick and potent, something that belonged exclusively to Christus. I began to close my eyes, to lean in again, despite the fact that I desperately needed air.

My air gave out, and I sputtered to the surface, clawing for breath. I was dizzy. He surfaced beside me, though a lot more gracefully. Since we were still tangled, his exhalation of breath hit me full on in the face.

I greedily inhaled the scent that was so uniquely him. He turned my still entangled limbs as tightly as he could in his rock-hard frame and crushed my face against his. We clung, suspended in heat and wet, straining to get closer. Though it was not possible, I felt that I would not be happy unless I could somehow crawl inside his skin.

Drawing in a ragged breath, I traced my tongue over the tips of his teeth with a boldness I had no idea I possessed. And then I could not breathe. With a moan, Christus pressed his lips even tighter against my own, sealing his breath in with my own as he suckled at my tongue. My body bucked once, twice against his, and then I surrendered, the strength of every conviction I had ever had melting away into the pool.

Who was I to say no to something that felt so good?
Why
would I say no? I loved this man, though I had fought it so very hard and for so very long.

While Pluto, god of death, loomed, watching over our shoulders, why should we not steal what happiness we could?

“I love you.” I felt Christus’ body tense against my own when he heard my words. I had a moment of anxiety myself—what if he did not feel the same? What if I was merely a distraction for him, or a comrade with whom he had the benefit of sharing pleasures of the flesh?

“Say it again.” With one hand still holding me tightly around my waist, Christus slid his other down over the curves of my ass and parted my thighs. I acquiesced to the touch with a throaty sigh, biting into the hard muscles of his shoulder as he slid a finger inside of me.

“I love you.” He began to move that finger in and out, the heat of the water causing arousal to pool more quickly than ever before.

“You love me. Do you belong to me?” He moved his finger faster, forcing a sharp intake of breath on my part. If anyone else had asked me the same question, I would have bared my teeth and pulled my sword from my hip.

But Christus already knew the answer, and so I murmured my affirmative reply. I was his, and he was mine.

“Good.” Pulling his finger from between my legs before striding through the water, his muscles rippling, he reached the edge of the pool. Lifting easily, he seated me on its side, the chill of the stone biting into my bottom while my calves, ankles, and feet still dangled into the water.

“Lie back.” I thrilled to the ferocity in his voice and did as he asked, settling my weight back onto my elbows, then flat onto my back. My shoulder blades jutted into the stone, and my nipples puckered in air that felt cool after the warmth of the water.

Standing in the chest-high water, Christus separated my thighs, splaying me wide open. He slid his hands up the inside of my legs, stroking the smooth skin, then delved into the glossy hair that covered my entrance. He separated the lips of my labia with his thumbs and stared down with apparent satisfaction at the dampness that surrounded my clit.

“And this. This is mine.”

I choked out an agreement, my hips rocking. I would have agreed to anything at that moment, so badly did I want him to touch me.

“Say it.” I stared up at him from beneath heavy lids, my lips parting, my tongue flicking out to taste them.

“It is yours. All of it—all of me—is yours.” A hoarse cry sounded from the depths of my throat when, with a nod of satisfaction, he lunged, burying his face in the heated space between my legs.

“Oh. Oh! Christus!”

Still holding me open wide, he did not waste time, rolling my clit lightly back and forth between his thumbs as his tongue invaded my wet heat. Compared to the thickness of his cock, his tongue was but a tease, sliding in and out, in and out, working me into a frenzy.

I felt tension building in the pit of my belly. I needed . . . oh, I just needed . . .

Pulling his tongue from my cleft, he swiped it over the engorged nub of my clit, which was held captive between his thumbs. The rough caress added the last edge to my need, and I felt the now familiar rush of pleasure that he and he alone could pull from me, washing over me like a wave.

I cried out as my body trembled, the sound echoing off of the walls.

“Now.” Slipping a hand between the stone and the small of my back, he urged me up to sit, then lifted me back down into the water, with him. With sure movements he pinned me against the edge of the pool, the rock at my back, and his hard body at my front.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He was inside of me before I could lock my ankles behind him, and I sighed with pleasure as the head of his cock parted my folds, the flesh still sensitive from his attentions.

“Christus. Please. I need you.” I tried to arch my hips, to take him deeper inside of me, but he had my hips in his hands, and would not allow me to set the pace. Pressing his forehead to my own, he stared into my eyes as he slowly, slowly slid his cock inside of my fevered cunt.

He moved so slowly that I wanted to scream. When he had fully seated himself, I shuddered, the pleasure at being filled wracking my body.

It was still not enough.

“More.” My nails clawed at his back. I sensed that he wanted to go slowly, that he wanted to demonstrate some level of caring on his part, even if he had not yet said the words. I could not handle the slow loving. I craved the heat that I knew could be created between us. Sliding my hands down, I dug my fingers into the rock-hard globes of his ass, pulling at the flesh there.

“Now. Please.” I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes when he heard the intensity in my tone, felt the need in my touch, but an answering surge of need showed on his face. “Fuck me. Hard. Now.”

He fisted a hand in my hair and tugged, hard. Sparks shot over my scalp, but I loved the way he made me look up into his face.

“I love you, Lilia the fierce.” He tugged again, to emphasize the point. “I love you.”

Unexpected tears pricked at the backs of my eyes—I did not like to cry, but I welcomed this rush of wet because of what had brought it. Then the sensation was gone, and I found myself clinging to his shoulders for my life as he began to fuck me as hard as I had begged him for.

I hissed between my teeth, then bit into his neck. My legs around his waist allowed him nothing but shallow thrusts into my heat, but he used all of his raw strength, holding nothing back. I reveled in the sensation—he knew that I was not delicate, that I could take whatever he had to give.

“Fuck.” The word was uttered as an oath, his movements coming ever faster and harder. “Lilia. I will not last.”

“Harder.” The noise was sibilant, and I threw my head back, my eyes closed in ecstasy. “I want it all.”

Sliding a hand through the water, he pressed a finger to my opening as he continued to love inside of me. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his face was tense with concentration. He was holding back, trying to last, and I discovered why as he slowly worked a finger along the shaft of his cock, inside of me.

“Fuck!” I was not prepared for the added tightness, the fullness, of that finger and the already wide girth of his cock. It stretched me, pulled the skin from my ass to my cunt tighter than it had ever been before. He slammed into me repeatedly, his finger working deeper with every movement, and I could not stop the scream.

“Fuck!” Climax came fast and hard, a blow from a whip. My flesh rippled, clutching at Christus’ finger and cock, sucking at him with greedy swallows. He shouted as he pressed forward into me one final time, and I felt liquid heat shoot inside of me, burning me, branding me as his.

I shuddered as he held me tightly, tiny tremors rippling through us both. Never had I felt something so intense, and I was not certain that I could survive the experience again.

“Lilia.” Instead of a curse, my name on his lips was a caress. Slowly he pulled back, easing himself out of me. I cried out softly when the friction caused by his finger and cock dragging over my flesh sent another, smaller, wash of pleasure through my system.

I could not meet his eyes. I was overwhelmed. I loved him, and he loved me.

For that moment, that one moment, my life was perfect, something that I had never expected it to be.

I
drank in the sensation of lying in Christus’ arms. The steam from the water kept me warm, despite being in nothing but my skin. Lazily I rolled over, feeling so far removed from my real life that my entire past could have been a dream.

“Will you tell me now, Christus?” He rolled with me, pulling me back against him. His spent cock nestled at the juncture of my thighs, and I smiled sleepily and with contentment.

“Tell you what?” His hand splayed flat over my belly. I was loath to disturb the moment, but I wanted to know.

Needed to know.

“Who is Hilaria to you, Christus?” I had fought through the jealousy, feeling nothing but pity for the woman if she was the consort of Gaius.

Around me Christus tensed. He remained that way for a long moment, and I heard his teeth grind together. Finally, finally he spoke, and his voice was as heavy as if he carried the entire world on his shoulders.

“This is something that you may not know, for our dominus is not of this type.” He paused, drew in a breath, then paused again. Finally forcing the words out, he spoke in a rush.

“Lucius Quintus Manius was a very different kind of dominus. His thought was always of the money, never the well-being of others besides himself, no matter his responsibilities as pater familias.”

I waited, silent, not wanting to interrupt his story.

“When I was in his ludus, Lucius had a wife—not Miriama, daughter of Baldurus. His first wife. Her name was Alba, and she was a—well, I am not certain that ‘friend’ is the right word to use. She was a favored companion of Hilaria, the woman that you saw with Gaius this evening, though I do not know if Hilaria was a favorite of hers as well. Knowing Hilaria’s temperament, I would assume likely not.”

His fingers dug into the flesh of my belly, then relaxed.

“Hilaria liked to be in the company of gladiators. They excited her . . . excited her sexually. Many patrician women feel the same way, but Hilaria’s desires seemed to stem from something less pure than simple boredom. She was a widow, and there were rumors of abuse from her husband when he had been alive. Regardless, we all sensed something . . . twisted . . . inside of her, whenever she was near.”

“It is all right.” I covered his hand with my own, squeezed lightly once. “You do not have to go on.”

“Perhaps it is best that I do.” His words sounded heavy. “I have carried the shame for a long time.”

“I will listen.” What else could I do?

“Alba, our domina, had become involved with two of my brothers. Hilaria had an uncanny sense for discovering things that others did not want her to know, and what Alba had, Hilaria wanted. The dominus would not give her Marcus or Caius, for Marcus was the champion of Rome at the time, and Caius was the next in ranking.”

Marcus. Caius. I remembered them. I had never met either in the arena, but I had fought another the day that Marcus had defeated the outgoing champion.

They were both as handsome as gods, both strong and fierce. I could see how both Alba and Hilaria had desired them.

“Hilaria would not be deterred, would not be told that she could not have what she wanted. Her husband had left her with a small fortune, more denarii than could be spent in two lifetimes. She offered Lucius an obscene amount of denarii for either Caius or Marcus, just for the privilege of lying with them.”

“He still would not allow her to lie with either of my brothers, but he offered her a compromise. She could pay for the pleasure of another of his men, whichever one she wanted.”

“She chose you.” My heart ached for him. Of all the things for us to have in common, unwanted sexual contact was not anything good.

“Some say that a man cannot be raped. I do not agree. She seduced me against my will. My body responded, though I did not want it to. She made me do things to her that I would never do to any woman at all.”

“I am so sorry, Christus.” I understood, better than I wished anyone ever had to.

“After, several of the brothers in the ludus teased me. Many of them would have been happy to be chosen to lie with a noble woman. They would have reveled in the things that she made me do. But I was still grieving over my wife, my child. I felt abused, felt sick over what I had done.” His voice shook, and I felt rage build inside me, rage against the spoiled, possibly mad Hilaria.

“Because the men did not understand, I could not share how I felt. I would have been mocked, would have been seen as weak. I might even have been made a target by some of the men who preferred cock to cunt.” Bitterness colored his words. “You cannot court weakness and expect to survive in a ludus. As a woman among men, you know this only too well.”

“I do.” I thought back to when I had first come to the ludus, of the helplessness that I had felt when cornered by Bavarius and his men. I remembered Bavarius’ taunting words about Christus . . .

I have heard that he enjoys a good fuck.

He had been helpless against Hilaria, just as I had been helpless against Bavarius. Just as we were both now helpless against Gaius.

But . . . thoughts began to swirl through my mind. Were we truly as helpless as we thought? As Christus had demonstrated when he stood up to Hilaria earlier that night, we were in a position of power, of sorts.

Gaius needed us for the games.

“Christus!” I sat up straight, blood surging through my veins in a sudden, intoxicating rush. “They cannot make us do it.”

“What is that, my love?” Sleepily, he sat with me, rubbing a hand over my back. I was distracted from my thoughts for a moment by his endearment—
my love
—but forced myself to stay on point.