The Gladiator Prince (28 page)

To either side were life-sized, life-like statues in every sexual position he could imagine and even some he could not. To his right was a great statue of ancient Roman soldiers pulling naked frightened woman to sit upon their swollen erections, some fornicating from the woman’s back while she was bent with her hands on stumps of trees. Under the statues was the inscription, “The birth of our nation — the rape of Sabine.”

On the other side was a series of statues featuring a single man with different young women. In one, the man was half bull, half man who entered the young beauty as she hung from a tree limb. The next the man was a giant half swan holding down a maiden with arms that were lined in giant white wings. Two sculptures showed the man as a man, but with a huge phallus. At the end of the array was a marble placard that read, “Our father Zeus with Europa, Alcmene, Io and Leda.”

He scanned the gallery as it flowed haphazardly down the long curved hallways, disappearing into elegant bends in the walls.

Before him, a great cheering roar echoed out of three tall doorways. When he peeked through, there on a round stage at the center of a giant room were three couples engaged in different sexual positions. The great platform moved in a slow circle as six golden male slaves pushed on bars, deeply trenched below the stage. Music glided through the chamber, amplified perfectly from wall to wall. Thane had never heard anything more beautiful. The erotic dance that flowed with the music moved from one pair to the next, each moving in rhythm to the chords, each entwined. A man held a young woman and speared her with his erection, while her legs surrounded his waist. She swept her arms over his head and let her fingers then flow to the audience. Men cheered on the bleachers below them.

“Are they not beautiful?”

The voice, deep, dark, crept up Thane’s spine. He shivered then whirled around. Before him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was not tall; indeed, she was a hand shorter than Phaedra. A musk rose up from her outstretched hand that quickened his heart, made his breath come out raggedly.

He took a step away from her but hit the doorframe at his back. When she laughed, it fell against his ears as pure joy.

“Come,” she said demurely. “I wish only to please you.”

“I…” She put three dainty fingers to his lips to quiet him then wound her hands around his right arm.

“Please.” The plea was so exactly voiced that he trusted her at once. Not knowing exactly how, he found himself propelled by the woman down the grand hall. For some reason, the statues that lined it seemed to leer at him.

When they reached a small doorway, she released his arm and opened it. With a graceful flip of her hand first to the right then to the left, Thane heard the scuffle of footsteps and looked behind them. A dozen or more tall women again dressed as warriors bowed low and left them alone.

“Please come with me, Prince Thane. My house is your house.”

The words jarred him to the core, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. He instinctively reached for his sword, but it was gone. She smiled at him demurely, lowering her eyes.

“Do not worry, my gallant prince. Your secret will not leave these walls. This I promise you.”

She pushed the door open and glided into the large room with Thane behind her.

He was impressed with the beautiful intricate tapestries lining the walls, the gold inlaid ceiling and a massive fountain that filled one whole side of the room. Everywhere he looked the same sexual theme repeated. The room smelled of a rare herb he had only tasted once in a gift from an admirer years ago. He thought they called it
canella
.
It was more valuable ounce for ounce than silver. A large roaring fire in a grate at the other end of the room made the air hot and amplified the cloying scent of spice and sweet. It made his head spin.

Turning to sit on a long divan in the middle of the room, the woman lifted a flint from a small table and struck it to ignite a kind of bark lying in a clay vessel. When the smoke rose from the bowl, it added another element to the exotic scents Thane tried to decipher.

“It comes from the bark of the yohimbe tree. My girls bring it to me from
Afrika
. It is said it increases a man’s appetite and the magnitude of his aggression.”

Uncomfortable, Thane inspected the intricate tiles beneath his feet.

“He blushes,” she said quietly. “You are a man of honor, I see.”

“Lady, I am here to…”

“Shhh…” In a graceful movement, she lay on her side and gently arranged her gown. It was only then that Thane realized the sleeveless robe she wore was completely sheer. Her breasts were perfectly balanced, large, the nipples brown. Her waist was thin, and her hips voluptuous. The golden wreath on her head held a crimson veil that framed her face. Long shining black hair flowed over her naked shoulders making the bright blue eyes spark with fire. Thane’s blood rushed through his veins, and his heart speeded up. A pang of pleasure sparked inside his cock. He had to fight it down.

“I was told I might have a very special guest tonight,” she mewed. “I had no idea it would be royalty. I am honored by your visit, Prince Thane.” She lowered her head without taking him out of her gaze.

Thane became instantly alert and turned to look for the door, but all he saw were perfectly disguised walls.

“Who told you?” He made fists and took a step toward her, but another pang in his loin stopped him. A wave of desire washed through him suddenly, and he had to catch his breath. The inside of his throat went dry, and his hands tingled.

“Does it matter, Your Majesty? Your visit here will be kept in strict confidence, of course. We want nothing more than to please you.”

“I am not here to be… ” he said, but the smoke in the bowl was making it difficult to speak. “How do you know me?”

The sweet laugh that came from behind her shining white teeth made his heart flutter. He could not look away from her plump red lips. “I would have known you from any distance. I used to watch you fight.” She lowered her eyes until black lashes brushed her cheeks. “In fact, I was on the dais the day you met Nero.” Fanning the lashes then lifting only her eyes, she let her mouth form a pout. “I am devastated that you do not remember me.”

Thane took in a breath to ease his shoulders, trying to place her. It came to him quickly. “It was you, in the shadows…”

A flash of real anger lighted her eyes, but she covered it quickly. “You do remember. How kind of you.”

“Who are you?”

“Forgive me. I should have introduced myself at once. My name is Prisca.” She waved her hand elegantly over her head. “This is my home.” Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. “If not for pleasure, then why are you here?”

Thane licked his lips, dazed and uncertain what he should tell her. His head felt thick, slow. He was not good at verbal games and regretted not taking Hasani up on his offer; he would not have been lost for words. “I… You have a young girl here. Her name is Anwen, about this high,” he said raising his hand. “She is blond, a Briton, um… a Celt with blue eyes. I wish to buy her from you.”

Her eyes widened, and a mischievous smile lit her face. “Perhaps you are not as honorable as I thought. Your appetite is indeed… unique, Prince. Anwen is a virgin and has not even bled. Her price will be very high, if I sell her at all. What do you offer?”

Thane balled his hands. His head throbbed, and he tried to clear his thoughts, but the scent was making him dizzy. “You misunderstand, this girl is important to me…”

“I can see that.”

He could feel heat rise in his face, and he tried to focus on her, but all he could see was her lush body, her moist lips. “She is my daughter. I will pay anything you wish to take her from this place.”

Prisca’s mouth opened, and a small pink tongue came out to lick the upper lip. “A daughter,” she hissed. “I see. You are indeed full of surprises, my fine gladiator. This changes things.”

Trepidation tied Thane’s middle in knots when he realized the mistake he had made, but her allure made his loin stiffen and his head unclear. “Please,” he finally said, “What do you want?”

She lifted her brows and tilted her head. “I am a bit embarrassed, really. I went to you three times when you fought at the Circus and they refused me every time. Your keeper felt my status was… beneath the qualities of your seed, I suppose. That you are here unencumbered and looking for a daughter who should not exist, tells me that perhaps you have relieved yourself of your owner’s restraints…” She pulled an audible breath through suddenly bared teeth and lowered her eyes to gaze at his loin. It was only then that Thane realized he was fully erect. He moved his hips to try to hide it and Prisca smiled. “I am deeply pleased to finally have this… opportunity to know you. I see you are pleased to meet me as well.”

Her eyes became serious, and she tilted her head. “I have wanted you since the first day I saw you on the field, bloodied by the fight, slick with sweat and furious at the crowd.” She locked eyes with his, and Thane saw real passion there. “I wonder if you remember. You looked up, straight into my eyes, I swear, and cursed the gods for your existence. Then, as the
lanistas
rushed in to stop you, you turned to Nero and threw your
gladius
straight at him, shouting something in another language, perhaps your own.” As if it was as natural as breathing, she slipped the shear garment open exposing her breasts. They were large, firm, and fired Thane’s desire immediately. He had trouble fighting the strange seduction and suspected the scent in the room and the strange red smoke rising from the bowl had kindled it.

She lifted one finger and slipped it into her mouth, leaving her eyes on Thane then circled her right nipple three times before pinching it. Her pupils dilated as wide as black pools, and she breathed in the smoke deeply. “What was it you said?” she asked intently.

“I do not remember.”

Sitting up she unclasped a pin at her neck and let the robe fall behind her as she rose. Except for the red veil she wore around her face, she was naked. Thane could not keep his eyes off her body as she moved languidly toward him.

Casting her eyes down, she reached for his robe, and Thane caught her wrists in both his hands. Her hands seemed as small and fragile as white butterflies. She pulled in a shaking sexually ignited breath and threw back her head. When her eyes came back to him, they were bright with lust.

“Please tell me,” she whispered.

He shook his head trying to dislodge the overwhelming desire to ravish her. Concentrating, he thought back to that day, hoping it would distract him long enough to get his urges under control.

The day was as clear to him as yesterday. It had been his first fight in front of Nero at the
Circus Maximus
. The adversary had been an immense Greek named Tordolius, the current champion of the circuit. Back then, Thane still fought against his captivity, before time had taught him the futility of freedom in a Roman world. That had been beaten into him over years of training, drilled into his brain by fellow gladiators and the irresistible allure of Roman honor and fidelity. Even now, those pangs of freedom called out to him, but Thane knew better than to listen; there was nothing to go back to. He turned his head away from her and let go of her wrists.

“I was angry,” he said.

“Yes,” Prisca hissed up to him. “You were angry.”

“I remembered what he said to me on the podium.”

“He said: ‘You are now Rome’s,’”
she replied placing soft fingertips on his chest.

“Yes,” Thane said, lost in the memory.

She splayed her fingers against his chest. “Nero said: ‘Like this whore behind me, you will give yourself to Rome, fight to entertain her masses, please the millions with your body… with your blood. Until you die.’”

“Until I die.” Thane looked down into those brilliant blue eyes and frowned. “I said to him on that day in the arena, with the last Briton words I have ever spoken: ‘Cursed is the name of Rome. I will watch her burn in the fires of hell before I die.’”

Prisca pulled in a shaking lustful breath and closed her eyes. “Yes.”

With a sudden urgency, she fumbled with the clasp of his robe and it fell around Thane’s feet, leaving him to shiver for a moment in the sudden chill. He grabbed her white arms and pulled her into his chest, looking deeply into her eyes. Her red lips opened, and Thane found himself leaning in to kiss her, his body now hot and consumed by lust. Prisca threw back to head and closed her eyes to receive him.

At that moment, Phaedra’s face flashed in front of his eyes and he stopped.
What am I doing?
The woman had drugged him; it was obvious now. He threw her back, sending her sprawling against the red silk divan.

Her eyes flashing, she screamed, “Attend me!”

Panting, Thane reached for his robe but got it only inches off the ground when what seemed like thousands of stingers embedded themselves into the skin of his belly and back. He looked down and watched as several thongs wrapped around his body, securing his arms to his sides. He dropped the robe to free himself but he could not move.

Prisca stood up from the divan, and her eyes widened. She lifted her chin and tightened her mouth. “It is a pity, Prince. You would have experienced pleasure another
slave
could scarce imagine.” Six of the tall
Afrikan
women materialized next to him as if by magic. More straps tightened around his arms, legs and neck. Dark sparks began to dance in front of his eyes as the wind tightened in his throat.