Surrender to the Roman

by M. K. Chester

  None of the sweat and swearing of soldiers had wiped the taste of Ademeni’s kiss from his lips. The vivid memory of how she felt in his arms crowded his every move during the day.

  Silence enveloped the house and should have been peaceful. Yet the painful quiet didn’t suit him, either. He rubbed the back of his neck and trudged through the house, stopping in the kitchen to snatch a small meal of bread and cheese.

  Roaming the halls, he paused to check on Callia. Only the top of her head poked from under the blankets. He kissed her and left her to her dreams.

  He would miss these moments when Trajan assigned him to a new post.

  Once he finished eating, fatigue settled upon him. Even though he suspected sleep would elude him, he forced himself to his chamber.

  A row of candles burned along the far wall, lending a flickering tint to the room. One step inside, he stopped short, his eyes adjusting to the moving shadows.

  His heart turned over in his chest. Ademeni lay in his bed, her dark hair splayed across the linens, eyes closed, full lips parted in slumber.

  Marcus swallowed and willed his wayward limbs to obey, to stop pumping desire through his veins. When he stepped forward, his shadow cut across her lithe body.

  Her spicy scent filled his senses. How long had she been lying in wait? Waiting for what? Not for him…yet here she lay. Clad in the thinnest of wool, she stretched from one corner of his bed to the other, like a gift from the gods.

  A warning stirred in his gut. She played a risky new game.

  Dark lashes fell against her cheeks, and her freckles teased him with sudden visions of the carefree woman she might once have been. Leaning forward, he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip.

  Stirring, she blinked, her unfocused gaze settling on him at last. She whetted her lips. “I finished your garden, dominus. Did you see?”

  Marcus shook his head, engulfed by the depth of her eyes. He’d forgotten all about her punishment. His words sounded rough to his ears. “Why are you in my bed?”

  Her hand covered his. “Are you not pleased?”

  He pulled away, the answer stuck in his throat. Last night she’d run from him. What could she hope to gain from a tryst?

  “Surprised,” he muttered.

  He massaged the back of his hand. No woman had touched him in five years. He’d not allowed any softness to enter his life after Julia’s death, but had committed himself to the empire—to Trajan. He’d broken his famine last night, and the guilt had eaten at him as surely as need did now.

  She sat forward and caressed his cheek. His eyes closed as the familiar hunger rose. The starved animal inside him wanted to claim every perfect inch of her, demanded that he ravish her. Called him a fool for not taking her before now.

  Again, that prick of worry stayed his hand. He waited to see what she wanted from him, if she hid some deadly weapon to use the moment he let down his guard.

  Her fingertips played across his lips, and he tasted each one as they trailed by. He forced himself to remain still, to sort through this change in temperament without overindulging.

  When his eyes opened, he took in her naïve smile and knew at once. She hoped to gain her freedom by playing with fire. She still did not realize he was motivated by other things.

  Yet her presence was too great a temptation to resist altogether. He could separate himself, keep his loyalties and still give her more than she could handle.

  Fair price for playing such games.

  He smiled. The last candle flickered and died.

  * * *

  A cruel trick of fate for the candles to expire. Ademeni closed her eyes and pushed fear to the edges of her mind. No more misgivings. Tonight would change her relationship with Marcus and release her from her subservient role. To that end, she’d done everything Lucia had prescribed, from the candles and perfume to her diagonal position in his bed.

  If the few nights with her husband had been any indication, this seduction would take no time at all. She would know if she pleased him because he would turn his back and fall to sleep.

  Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, his presence marked by a masculine scent and the sound of his shallow breath. His stiff posture dared her to continue her course.

  So she reclined, braced for a few moments of puzzling unpleasantness. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and waited for him to fall upon her like a wild beast.

  Agonizing moments passed. Then his hand encircled her ankle, and he straightened her leg. Air rushed from her lungs in surprise. Warm and strong, his caress lingered, drawing slow circles up her calf.

  Ademeni raised herself on her elbows and opened her mouth to protest. What man touched a woman this way? She wanted to demand he stop and get on with things, but the sensation felt too good to force the words beyond her lips.

  When he pushed her tunic upward and pressed his lips to her knee, she shuddered. He raised his eyes, his cryptic smile holding the promise of more exquisite torture. A flush crept over her body, an unfamiliar heat settled low in her belly.

  She pressed her hand against his shoulder, but he captured it, kissed the back and released her. A shake of his head spoke volumes. He didn’t want her to touch him.

  Her limbs froze as her heart thundered. This would be nothing like those other nights. All her plans flew away on a midnight breeze. She’d lost the reins already.

  Marcus crept along the length of her body, hovering over, then stretching out beside her. His hands possessed her with slow, bold strokes that pushed her garment first to the waist, then over her head.

  Her nakedness seemed to please him, so she ignored the awkward desire to cover herself. Perhaps he would pin her to the mattress now and satiate the unmistakable hunger that grew in his eyes.

  Instead, he ran his hand over her shoulders, across her collarbones, hesitating in the hollow at the base of her neck. Her skin prickled as he moved further afield, circling first one breast, then the other.

  Her body responded without the consent of her mind, nipples hardening, spine arching to follow his persistent caress. She thought him cruel to be so close, yet not kiss her as he had the night before. Licking her lips, she tilted her chin upward, to invite him.

  In response, he lowered his head but stopped short of making contact. Ademeni’s breath caught in her throat as his mouth feathered across hers. His kiss mimicked the movement of his hand across her belly.

  Panic flashed across the pleasure, and she stiffened. This was not how things were to happen tonight. She was to drive him to the point of distraction, not the other way around.

  Marcus drew back, his breath warming her cheek. “Is this not why you are here?”

  As he nuzzled her neck, she gasped her answer and snaked her arms around his neck. None of her sisters had told her of these pleasurable things. Her husband had lacked either knowledge or skill.

  His lips pulled at her skin, and she gave in to the slow pressure that grew inside her. Marcus rained warm kisses down the center of her body, pausing at both breasts to set her nerves afire with his tongue.

  Her fingers curled through his hair while she writhed beneath his easy weight. His hand strayed boldly down her stomach, prodding her legs apart.

  Marcus raised his head, pinned her leg with his and looked into her eyes. Embarrassed by her body’s liquid response to his attentions, she fought the urge to shy away. She had no will to deny herself the pleasure his touch promised.

  He kissed her again, his tongue sliding across her parted lips. In the same moment, his hand advanced between her legs. She moaned into his kiss while her body moved of its own accord, welcoming his exploration.

  A rush of heat surged through her limbs as he touched her gently at first, then with more purpose. Each stroke built upon the last, until she feared her body had caught on fire. She grasped his arm, not knowing exactly for what she asked.

  Pressure built until his fingers slid inside her. Her hips rose from the bed, and she sealed her mouth to his. The giv
e and take of the kiss echoed his manipulation of her body.

  Tension rose from the friction between them, Ademeni climbing as though she walked the mountains of home. She clung to Marcus, unable to either keep his pace or control herself, wanting this torment to both never end and find completion.

  Marcus broke the kiss, and she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensations washing through her. Her muscles tightened, held, then released in a blissful wave of pleasure. She relaxed into the motions of her body, soothed by the way Marcus touched her now.

  He pressed his lips to her skin, cool sweetness against the sweat of her brow. Her eyes fluttered open as the swell of relief passed all too quickly. Repositioning himself, Marcus smoothed the hair away from her face and placed a lingering kiss across her swollen lips.

  Then he reclined, one arm wrapped around her waist, and pulled her tight against him. Heat radiated from her face, and even though darkness hid her, the shock of these few moments burst into a fiery confusion.

  What had he done to her? How was it possible for him to touch her in a way that nearly brought tears to her eyes? And he’d done nothing for his own pleasure, although she now felt his arousal against her hip.

  She’d failed. Or had she? His breath grazed her ear, and she felt satisfied and empty at the same time. She’d learned she could tempt him, although his restraint had proven greater than her own.

  This time. She would have to work harder.

  Drowsy, Ademeni laced her fingers through his, rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. His body shook with quiet laughter, but she didn’t care.

  If he could be enticed thus far, she could still succeed. Gaining her victory would simply take longer and require more of these blissful encounters.

  Chapter Nine

  Ademeni opened her eyes to a thin veil of sunshine and hushed voices in the courtyard. She lifted her head, her cheeks warming as she remembered where she lay and why. Wrapped in sheets, she raised onto her elbows.

  Marcus was gone, a cold hollow in the mattress the only indication he’d ever been there. Then she heard the rumble of his voice outside but couldn’t make out the words. She eased from the bed and inched toward the archway to listen.

  “Today is the day?” Lucia asked.

  The familiar sounds of Marcus strapping on his armor muffled his reply. “Trajan is near. He will send the slaves ahead. Today. He will likely wait until high noon on the morrow to arrive.”

  “And you still plan to seek an audience with him?”

  Ademeni held her breath at the pause in conversation.

  “Nothing has changed,” Marcus answered.

  She shivered. Why would he need to talk with his emperor? Behind the curtain, she wrapped the linens more tightly around her body. Nothing had changed.

  Marcus continued, “If you need to go out, do so this morning. The streets are teeming with drunken soldiers, thieves and beggars. It will only get worse.”

  “I cannot hide,” Lucia countered. “He will expect me.”

  “He will send for you, as he always does.” Ademeni noted an unusual edge in Marcus’s tone. “You will see to her?”

  “See to whom?”

  Another tense pause, followed by the shuffle of feet. “Did you not instruct Ademeni to seduce me last night?”

  Ademeni took a step backward, the cold flagstones sending a chill through her body. He’d known all along.

  Lucia did not deny her role. “And if I did?”

  “Nothing has changed.” He punctuated each syllable with the strength he carried. Ademeni imagined he pointed his finger with every word. “See to her.”

  She sank onto the edge of the bed, tears of embarrassment searing her vision. She had not won any small victory, but had merely given him what he’d already expected.

  In the distance, a door shut as Marcus left the house, questions swirling in his wake.

  Lucia’s shadow appeared against the curtain. Ademeni dashed her tears with the back of her hand and waited, anger brewing in the pit of her stomach.

  “I cannot find her.”

  “Hush.” Lucia quieted Flora, who had no doubt noticed that Ademeni’s room lay empty. “Must you wake the damned?”

  From her vantage point, Ademeni tried to pick apart the hushed whispers of the two women, but had little luck. Flora was perceptive. She would realize where Ademeni had spent the night. Ademeni had been made a fool by the whole lot of them and for no gain. If she wanted her freedom, it was high time to stop playing games and make something happen on her own will.

  Gritting her teeth, Ademeni rose and dressed while they argued. Throwing back the curtain, she presented herself to both of them with her head held high.

  “Are you going to the market this morning?” she asked Lucia, her posture making it clear that no one needed to “see to her.”

  Ashen, Lucia nodded. “I planned to.”

  “Let me prepare, and I will go with you.” She held Lucia’s gaze and ignored Flora, as she would have done in her own house, in her own country.

  “Of course,” Lucia acquiesced.

  Ademeni swept past Flora and entered her own room, where she changed her clothing and arranged her hair in the proper Roman manner. Her shaking hands belied the strong façade she’d tossed up in self-defense.

  Nothing would keep her from the city today. Lucia had made her a bargaining chip in her relationship with her son-in-law, for what reason she could not fathom. And Marcus had made it clear that no matter what transpired between them, he would not change his course of action.

  Meaning he would not free Ademeni. He would seek an audience with that vile murderer, Trajan, maintain sickening loyalty to him alone. She did not figure into his plans, and no amount of feminine wiles would change his mind.

  Beyond this, she did not care what argument Lucia had with him, or why Trajan would expect to see Lucia. They would do well to keep that between themselves.

  The Dacian slaves would arrive today. Marcus had said so, and he never lied. The city would be full of chaos. She must be in the middle of everything, see with her own eyes how Rome treated those it conquered. With Marcus occupied with his duties, it would not be difficult to slip away from Lucia, taking the household monies with her.

  Leaving her room, she escorted Lucia outside the house without any further word. As a test to her memory, she led the way through winding streets that were, indeed, clogged with reeking, restless humanity.

  The putrid odor of refuse and horses assailed her, but she did not slow her pace. Pausing only to ensure that Lucia kept time, she pushed her way toward the Forum with sure steps.

  To her credit, Lucia did not broach conversation. Ademeni could think of nothing more demeaning than discussing the events that had transpired in Marcus’s bed. He had told her all she needed to know. She’d gone into the room hoping to best him. Instead, he’d turned the tables and pleasured her. His restraint highlighted his position as her master in all things.

  Nothing had changed.

  Stopping at their usual vendors, Ademeni took initiative, bargaining deftly, exchanging coin for fruit, grain and a skin of wine. She carried the bulk of the materials over her shoulders as they continued their circuit.

  When she turned from the wine vendor, Lucia stood a short distance away, staring toward the avenue. Bile rose in Ademeni’s throat when she saw the column of soldiers, brass shining, marching through the street. Their considerable bulk forced the crowd aside, like a large boat moving through a storm. Displaced citizens gathered along the edges of the formation, raising their fists and their voices.

  With dread, Ademeni dropped her packages and turned toward the rear of the column. Even at a distance, she recognized Marcus astride his black stallion. Beside him, the monster Tertullian tried to measure up. Behind him, his legion marched with their standard.

  And last, an unorganized mass of humanity clothed in rags lurched forward. Held in check by a reinforced line of centurions, the imprisoned men of Dac
ia entered the Forum to rabid cheers from every corner.

  People shoved by Ademeni, pushing by her, trampling her goods. Exuberant cries tore from their throats as if they had defeated an enemy with their own hands.

  On the faces of her countrymen, anger, fear, disgust and exhaustion. All the things she’d felt not so long ago but had conveniently forgotten. They might never be free again, but she sensed an opportunity. The time had come.

  Clutching the household purse in one hand, she turned against the tide and slipped away from the spectacle.

  * * *

  “Don’t you have a wife to go home to?” Marcus barked as Tertullian followed him through the doorway of his house.

  “You’ve been a cur all day.” Tertullian slammed the door so the walls shook.

  Marcus whirled on him, realizing at the last moment that, for a change, his poor temper had nothing to do with the man before him. He checked himself. “Go home.”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re petitioning Trajan.”

  Exhaustion ate at Marcus’s reason. “What difference does it make why I request an audience? I’ve done so on several occasions. None of which have been any business of yours.”

  Their angry voices raised the household. Callia emerged first, rubbing her tired eyes. “Papa?”

  Marcus groaned. “Yes, Sunshine, come here.”

  She stumbled toward him, disoriented from slumber, and he scooped her up. As she rested her head on his shoulder, he spied Lucia in the hallway. Lucia stayed put, with Flora behind her.

  He did not see Ademeni but supposed she might be waiting for him again tonight. The thought pushed excitement through his tired limbs. He glanced at Tertullian. Gods forbid his brother-in-law would catch wind of the tryst.

  Callia raised her head. “She’s gone.”

  Marcus’s heart stopped as his daughter whispered the news. “Who’s gone?”

  Innocent green eyes widened. “Meni.”

  He looked to Lucia. “What happened?”

  She glanced past him, to Tertullian, as if she did not wish to speak in his presence. Marcus stepped between them and lowered his voice. “What happened?”