Slowly, one of the slaves removed her gown, sliding it down her shoulders. They tugged it over her hips, allowing it to pool at her feet. She had stood naked in Corvus’ prison and was deeply humiliated.
Yet, here, standing before Mark and these men, she could be…free. Like she could soar high into the air on sensual wings of pleasure.
Another slave knelt before her. He parted her thighs then licked her cunt.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Lyla gripped his shoulders.
He passed his tongue across her clit again. She spread her legs wider, pressing her pussy against his mouth.
He kissed and suckled her little pleasure bud, drawing it into his mouth for several seconds then released it.
“I-I have to come,” she moaned. Release seemed seconds away, she could let go now, or…
“Not yet, my sweet,” Mark told her.
She looked over at him, his long legs stretched out before him. He popped a grape into his mouth chewed then swallowed. She watched his prominent Adam’s apple bob up and down. She also noticed the bulge in his groin. His penis pushed against his tunic.
The balance of control lay within her. Never, in all her other sexual relationships with any man, did she ever feel this potent. It made her head spin.
“Hold back your release until I command you to come,” Mark stated.
She did as he told her, biting down on her lower lip to distract her body, and her mind, from coming. In that instant, she hated Mark for making her restrain herself.
“I know you don’t like it.” He chuckled. “I can tell from that stormy look on your face.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely.” His grin became wicked.
She panted, hoping that the quick intake and exhalation would hold her release at bay. She wanted to show him that she could persevere.
“Good girl,” he crooned. “You are doing well.”
Pride filled her, Mark’s praise heightening the feel of the slave’s mouth against her pussy. She squirmed against his lips. “Can I come now?” she asked Mark.
“No.”
“Why not?” She panted again.
“‘Master’ is how you must address me.”
“Master, why can’t I come?”
“Because I haven’t given you permission to do so.”
She took more short, shallow breaths. Mark spoke to the slaves and pointed to a padded bench. The slave lifted his mouth from her cunt.
“No!” she cried. She wanted more of his lips and tongue.
“You will enjoy this, Lyla, I promise,” Mark told her.
The two slaves escorted her over to the piece of furniture. Her thighs quivered. They bent her over it so that her ass was on display for Mark.
The fact that she couldn’t see him intensified her anticipation. Eagerness and curiosity overruled any hesitation. She wanted to know what they would do to her next, remembering her ‘safe’ word…and Mark’s promise not to hurt her.
Mark clapped his hands again. She watched as one of the slaves walked towards a small table and retrieved an ewer. The slave stepped behind her.
Mark bent over her and whispered near her ear. “When we were in Corvus’ viewing room, I sensed that you were a virgin, here, in your solum.” He patted her ass, running his finger along the cleft between her butt cheeks.
Her clit throbbed in response. “Yesssssssss,” she moaned. “I am.”
“No man has ever had this pleasure, and that gives me great satisfaction.”
She sucked in a breath when his warm, slippery hands massaged her ass. Her desire increased when she noticed the slaves watching her. Two men held her firmly in place, her belly against the padded seat. The other two stared directly into her eyes.
Mark continued to massage her bottom, running his hands across her skin. “It will not be like Corvus’ jail. I intend to get you accustomed to the feel of my fingers in your solum.”
He continued to stroke her bottom. Then he eased his index finger inside her. He held it there for a few seconds, allowing her to get used to it. He didn’t shove it in any farther. He didn’t move it.
She sucked in a breath then released it.
“Does it give you pleasure, Lyla?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“Be truthful,” he whispered in her ear.
“It seems as though you’re filling me entirely. I like it. “
He removed it slowly, but the absence of his finger in her bottom made her feel empty, deep inside.
“That’s enough for now,” he commanded.
The two slaves helped her rise from the bench.
Mark took her face between his hands and kissed her. His breath tasted sweet and a little like wine. “I will not take your bottom now. It is not something one leaps into.”
“I wasn’t afraid,” she replied, her voice resonating through the chamber. She didn’t have any fear in her body in that minute, just desire.
“I’m glad you trust me,” he told her.
Did she really trust him, she wondered. Or was he the one port in a stormy sea? No, she wouldn’t let doubt creep in.
He turned her in his arms so that he could massage her breasts before the slaves. Their hot, watchful gaze filled her with lust.
Her hands possessed a mind of their own. She reached down, and stroked her cunt. She watched their cocks rise beneath their tunics.
Mark stopped her. “Never touch yourself there unless I command you to.”
Irritation sounded in her voice. “But I want to come. In full view of everyone.”
“When I say so.”
She could argue. She wanted to. She wanted to push Mark to his limit, but held off. There’d be plenty of time to best him. Right now, she wanted more release.
She bowed her head. “As you wish, Master.” Then she lifted her face to his and looked him right in the eyes, hoping he noticed the challenge hers held.
Mark uttered a command to a slave, then pointed to her groin. The slave walked over to her then dropped to his knees and suckled her cunt. Those lovely sensations inched downwards, settling in her toes. She wiggled them in response.
“Lean over him, hold on to his shoulders.”
Lyla did as Mark ordered, her hands digging into the bony ridges between the man’s wide shoulders and neck. Her pussy grew damp and slick from the action of the slave’s mouth and tongue against her pleasure zone.
She heard something, a strange sound from behind her. It was a crinkling noise, followed by snapping. She looked back to see Mark slip a condom on his penis.
“It is the muscle tissue of a man slaughtered in battle.”
Her eyes widened.
“He gave his life bravely for the empire. This piece of him will protect you, have no fear.”
She held her breath while he slipped his sheathed cock inside her labia from behind. She revelled in the sensation as his big, thick cock made its way in. The damned condom was ribbed!
He moved, just a bit, sliding in, then out. With the slave going down on her cunt, and Mark taking her from behind, she didn’t know if she could hold her orgasm back.
“Come when I command you, Lyla.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I have to come. Now.” She bit down on her lower lip.
He rode her some more. The slave lapped at her pussy.
“Please, Mark.”
“Address me properly.”
“Master,” she hissed, throwing her head back against his shoulder.
He massaged her breasts, tweaking her nipples gently with the pads of his fingers. “Now, you may come.”
Her orgasm exploded within her. She tried to draw it out for as long as she could, the wonderful sensations overtaking her body. She folded, clutching the slave’s head, while a wave of exquisite delight flowed over her. When it passed, she turned her head and glanced at Mark.
He smiled.
And so, she discovered, did she.
Chapter Nine
Marcus dismissed th
e four slaves. As much as he enjoyed sharing Lyla and delighting in her pleasure at their hands, he wanted her all to himself now.
She lay sprawled against the cushions, her nude body relaxed and replete. The tiny purple flowers remained in her tresses, but her mass of flaxen hair had come loose and tumbled around her shoulders in waves. The ends trailed down her shoulders and breasts. Her creamy skin and exquisite, rounded form made her appear like a goddess.
He never believed the Roman mythology, but Lyla could make him change his mind.
He slid next to her and whispered, “Vos es meus decor , meus dulcis.”
“What does it mean?”
“You are my beauty, my sweet.”
She smiled at him, her mouth wide her eyes dreamy.
He leant down and captured her lips with his own, branding her further in a heated kiss that made his loins pound with need. She belonged to him and by all the gods in Roman creation, she would remain his… No. He couldn’t do that. He had to tell her the truth before he made any claims on her.
He tore his mouth from hers.
She looked petulant and annoyed.
Ah, how he would enjoy taming her into pleasurable submission.
“Lyla,” he whispered. “We must speak.”
“I would much rather do this.” She grasped his head between her hands and kissed the breath from his body.
He grabbed her arms, and pulled them down to her sides. “Listen to me, please.”
“Yes, dominus et deus.” She grinned.
He longed to haul her across his lap and spank her impertinent butt. He had no doubt she would enjoy it. So would he.
Time enough for that, but now, I must be truthful! “I want you to know that you are not a prisoner here.”
She stilled. Then her face grew cloudy with doubt. “You’ve told me that before.”
“You can leave any time. The book is your key to the portal that brought you here. By stroking that stone on the cover, you propel yourself backwards or forwards in time.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “Really?”
“Really.”
“So, I could leave now, if I wished?”
His heart plummeted until it felt leaden in his chest. Guilt ate away at him, for he knew he didn’t tell the entire truth. “Yes, if you so desired, you could leave.” He continued in a rush, lest he lose his nerve, “But there are perils with time travel, and no guarantees that you will wind up back in your time.”
She narrowed her eyes. “When we were in the book store, you told me you went back and visited your family. So that book took you here, to Ancient Rome.”
“I’ve been lucky. My father wasn’t.”
“What do you mean?” She sat up and tossed her hair back over her shoulders.
He fingered the soft, silky strands, enjoying the sweet fragrance of the tiny flowers entwined in her locks. “I believe that my father pioneered time travelling. He discovered that all he had to do was stroke the ‘magic gemma’ imbedded in the cover of the book so he could travel back and forth between this era and the future. Then, for some reason, I believe he wound up in some other century. He may have tried to get back to my mother and me, and perhaps he did, because he brought the book back with him.”
“But he didn’t stay?”
Marcus ground his fist against his thigh. It was a while before he answered.
“Time travel is fraught with peril.” He took a deep breath, and released it. “For all I know, he could have ended up in the Dark Ages, and died from the plague.”
“But how could he have ended up there, if the book is the key to time travelling? Wouldn’t he have taken the book with him?”
“I’m n-not sure.” He looked away.
“Marcus, please tell me.”
He gazed at her. Once more, his heart felt heavy, his shoulders sagging from the emotional weight he carried within him. It was time he faced the truth about his father. “I think someone may have murdered him, when he came back to Rome.”
“Why?”
“Perhaps, they desired the book—maybe the person who murdered him thought the book was worth a lot of coin because of the gems lining the cover.”
She rested a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Such are the risks men of daring take. My father was that kind of man. He latched onto a new idea, and anytime someone does that, they take a great chance.”
She angled her head. “So are you,” she said softly. “You are a man of daring.” She frowned in thought. “But how did this time-travelling book come into existence?”
“The stone is the key. Books are not known here, in this period in history. My father must have brought the book back here from his travels forward. I think he embedded the stone in the cover, along with a myriad of other gems, to hide its real purpose.” He pulled her towards him and rested his forehead against hers. “The other stones are rare gems and worth a great deal of money. Romans are greedy.” His lips grazed her skin. He felt her shudder in response. “Now that I’m an adult I can see things more clearly. When I was younger, I just thought my father went away because he didn’t like us, but now, I realise, that he didn’t leave my mother and me—he was probably murdered. I just wish I knew who did it.”
“They might have murdered him, but they never took the book. Why?”
“I think my father knew someone was after him, and he gave Decimus the book for safe keeping. Decimus hid it beneath the floor of my father’s study. That’s how I discovered it, you know. After my father left us, I remember walking into his room.” He ran a hand through his hair then dropped that hand to his side. “I always hoped I would walk in and see my father there, sitting at his table, writing on a papyrus scroll. Anyway, I felt a loose floor tile, and when I lifted it, I discovered the book, and soon I figured out the power behind the ‘magic gemma’. I was twenty years old when I started to time travel, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”
She fingered the hair on his chest. He lifted her fingers and kissed them.
“So, I simply stroke that stone, and I can return to my time?”
“Yes. I will not stop you, ever.” But he wanted to. He wanted to keep her here by his side, forever. He longed to take her on a sensual journey of her mind and body that would bind her to him always.
“Where is the book now?”
“I keep it in my bedchamber. Anytime you want, you may view it or…use it for its real purpose. To get home.”
She bit down on her lower lip. He wanted to nip it, too.
Seconds went by. Perspiration lined his back while he waited for her to respond.
“I will go when I am ready,” she told him. “And not before.”
His heart beat wildly. “Are you ready now?”
She shook her head and smiled. “No.”
That’s all he needed to hear. His body, once tight with anxiety and tension, relaxed.
He stripped his tunic, ripping it over his chest and head, his dick so hard he thought it would burst. He needed to take her, and he needed to do it now, her affirmation that she wanted to stay, making his desire for her more potent. But if he didn’t slow down, he’d spill himself before he was even inside her.
Damn her for making him want her so much! She had no idea the effect she wrought on his mind and body.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip. The little witch noticed. She leaned over and lapped it up with her tongue. It sent a jolt of sensual pleasure to his loins.
Okay, so he could fight fire with fire. He ran a finger down her breast, touching her tender little nipple. “Did you enjoy your time with your ornators?”
She blushed to the roots of her very pale hair. “How did you know? Did Eisha and Corinne tell you?”
He stretched out next to her, resting the side of his head in his palm. He ran a finger down her breast. “No one had to tell me, I knew all about it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How?”
“I watched.”
Her face turned crimson.
“There are small viewing holes drilled into the walls. You just have to know where to find them.”
“You wretch!” She tossed a pillow at him.
He laughed, ducking before the pillow reached its intended target—his head. He couldn’t remember when he’d smiled and laughed so much. “Temper, my sweet.” He chuckled.
He rose over her, brushing the entrance of her sex with his stiff cock. That’s what her fiery disposition did to him; it made him horny as hell. And damn her for choosing that as her ‘safe’ word.
“So, you think that now that you watched me enjoying two women, you can have your wicked way with me?” She widened her legs, allowing him entrance. Then she ran a hand across his chest.
“I want to say something to you, in your language,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Latin. That’s what we speak here.”
“How do I say…” She ran a hand down his chest. Her fingers dipped lower, where she grabbed his cock. “‘You have a magnificent body’?”
“Vos a splendidus somes, Vinco.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “It sounds lovely.” She hugged him tight.
“You say it now.”
“Vos a splendidus somes.”
“Ah,” he ran a finger down her nose. “You left out a word.”
She frowned. “What word did I miss?”
“Master,” he hissed. “The word for ‘master’ in Latin is ‘vinco.’ Now, say it again,” he commanded.
“Vos a splendidus somes , Vinco.”
She ran the pad of her thumb across his cock.
Her words flowed over him, making him feel strong and powerful.
He reached under a pillow, withdrawing another condom. How he longed to feel his naked cock in her channel, but he wouldn’t take that chance. He didn’t want her to return to her time pregnant with his child.
He rode her slowly, sliding in and out, making sure to touch the tip of his cock to her clit. He wanted them to be in total communion, wanted every part of him to touch her.
He gathered her close and pumped into her.
“Master,” she breathed. “Vinco.”
It was like beautiful, sweet music to his ears.
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