Seduced by the Gladiator

by Lauren Hawkeye

  “You will eat.” Taking a plate in hand, Christus began to pile it high with items that I had never before seen. Other slaves stood by the table, and described the items that we did not recognize, which were many.

  Chicken with mallows and some kind of fowl with corn and cress, pork sausage with olive relish and veal crusted in mustard—I had never in my life tasted any of these. A great salad of cucumber, carrot, and cabbage glistened in the dim light, something that was more familiar to me, as were the stone platters full of mashed pumpkin and turnips.

  My stomach growled and at the same time warned me that it did not want food, so unsettled was it with nerves. I whispered this to Christus, but he ignored me and added a handful of almonds and walnuts to the plate.

  “The others are busy expending their energy right now.” Holding the plate with one hand, he gestured with his other to the side of the room. I followed his stare, grimacing at the spectacle that greeted my eyes.

  On a great pile of cushions, the dark-haired woman who had first approached the Beast lay on her back, her legs splayed wide, her knees on either side of the Beast’s head. Her toga was around her waist, her breasts jiggling with the force of every hard thrust of the man inside of her.

  Not far away, a blond woman with rubies at her throat, her ears, and to my astonishment, clamped over her nipples, rode a gladiator that I did not know. She leaned over him fully, her hands on the floor, her breasts dangling in his face, allowing another warrior to spread the cheeks of her ass and take her from behind.

  Though I found the sight so strange, at the same time, it made wetness grow in my cunt. I was very aware of my lover, standing so closely to me, yet not touching me.

  Casting a glance over to the head of the room, I found Gaius’s eyes fixed on my small form. Rather than shuddering or running away, as I felt he wanted me to, I stared back, defiance written plainly over my features.

  Hilaria was not by his side. Pulling in close to Christus, I stood on my toes and scanned the room for her. I found her much closer than I had anticipated, and it sent a jolt through me. The beautiful patrician stood by the copulating couples, watching with unabashed fascination. Her cheeks were flushed with what was clearly arousal, and she made no secret of the looks that she repeatedly sent Christus’ way.

  Christus turned, saw what I did. His jaw clenched with tension, and he did not return the woman’s slow, seductive smile.

  She scowled, and began to move toward us.

  “Lilia.” Lacing his fingers through my own—a bold move—he replaced the plate on the table and pulled me away from the lust-fueled reverie. Casting an anxious look back over my shoulder, I saw that Gaius had momentarily turned his attention elsewhere.

  Hilaria had not. Within moments she was at our side, though I seemed to be invisible to her, for her attention was focused solely on my lover.

  “Christus.” Reaching out with a hand adorned with jewels, the woman trailed one long finger over his cheekbone. Though I felt every muscle in his body tense, my warrior did not flinch away.

  I understood in that moment that this was the woman who had abused him, the one who had made him so able to understand my own fears.

  If I had had a sword, I would have killed her in that moment.

  “Christus. You will come with me.” Lifting her hands to her shoulders, Hilaria undid the fastenings of her toga, loosening the fabric until it fell to her waist and her beautifully sculpted breasts and torso were bared.

  Christus’ stare did not even flicker. Clasping my hand tightly, he inhaled deeply and looked the woman in the eye.

  “No.” He shuddered as he spoke, and my heart wrenched as I realized what it meant to him to say so.

  “What did you say?” Hilaria’s face darkened, cruelty twisting her features. I squeezed my lover’s hand, trying to give him strength, understanding that he needed to do this.

  “I said no.” On any other day, Christus could have been killed for refusing the demand of a patrician woman. Today, however, he had power. He was needed—we all were needed—for Gaius’ epic battle.

  And the threat of death meant nothing when it was highly probable that we would die on the morrow anyway.

  “You will come with me.” Hilaria hissed out the words, leaning in close until her spittle dampened Christus’ skin. When her anger did not break him, she molded her face into a seductive mask.

  “Don’t you remember how it was between us?” Her words were a throaty whisper, and Christus shuddered, but not, I knew, with pleasure. “I was so hot for you. So tight. So wet.”

  I thought that Christus might simply turn and walk away. Pride flooded through me when he continued to stare down this woman who I now knew was the ghost that haunted him.

  “Once, I was not able to say no to you.” He fixed his lips into a sneer, and Hilaria’s smile slipped a bit. “Now I can, and so I will. No.”

  Turning abruptly, he crushed me in his arms and half hustled, half carried me away into the throng of people. I laughed, caught for a moment with delight at his boldness.

  As I pressed a kiss to my lover’s cheek, I saw Bavarius, bent over the back of a plush-looking couch. I could not see his face, but there was a man pressed up against his naked behind, a patrician man dressed in an expensive toga, with long dark hair.

  I felt nothing for his predicament, though perhaps I should have.

  “Quick.” At Christus’ word I ducked behind a curtain, a heavy fall of cloth that appeared to have been placed where it was for no reason. It shielded us from the prying eyes of the rest of the party, however, and I inhaled deeply at the knowledge.

  Within moments we both became aware of the purpose of the curtains. Mere feet away from us, invisible to our eyes, came the unmistakable sounds of pleasure . . . the low grunts of a man inside of a woman, the breathy pants of a woman being taken by a man.

  In the cocooned space, alone with Christus, the sounds teased wetness from between my legs. My nipples contracted against leather that was still damp, and I bit my lip, looking up to meet his eyes.

  “We cannot.” Placing the plate that he still carried on the floor, sliding it away, he nevertheless placed a hand on either side of my waist. His hands were warm against the chill of my skin, and I shivered.

  “I know.” No, we certainly could not, not here, where we could be seen by anyone. The other gladiators might have had an inkling by that point, a hint of the relationship between Christus and me, but they did not know for certain.

  What they did not know, they could not use against us.

  “Christus, what was Hilaria to you?” Though proud of him for standing up to her, I still wanted to know about his past. And though I had never been one to be jealous before, the thought that he had had a relationship of some sort with the woman before set me on edge. I pictured the noble woman’s rosy flush as she watched the gladiators and her peers fucking in the open, remembered the avidness of her stare when she had first seen and recognized Christus. I found that it was suddenly important for me to know.

  The muscles of his jaw clenched, and I watched him deliberately soften them as he looked down at me. “I do not wish to speak of her.”

  I was stung, and defensively I shrugged, then moved to leave the security of the curtain. I hesitated when I remembered that Gaius and his ever-watchful eyes were on the other side.

  “Lilia.” Christus’ voice contained a warning. “Do not leave my side.” Moving from stung to angry, I turned, my eyes narrowed.

  I was not prepared for it when he grabbed me by the hips and lifted. In response, I wrapped my legs around his waist, felt the hardness of his cock as it pressed against the heat between my thighs.

  “The mere mention of her name causes a need in me.” My mouth fell open, and I pushed at his chest, appalled that he would say such a thing to me while I was in his arms. “A need to burn all traces of her from my mind.” Clasping the back of my head in one large hand, he pulled my face to his and devoured my lips with his own.
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br />   As he did, a wave of lust unlike anything I had ever experienced reared up and slapped me in the face, hard. A surge of wetness spilled between my thighs, and I was suddenly consciously aware of the worn leather of my subligaculum rubbing against my clit.

  I wanted to fuck. I wanted to fuck the memory of the other woman from his mind, and wanted to erase the taint of Gaius from my own.

  More than that, I wanted him to brand me with his body, one last time. When I entered the arena the next morning, I wanted to be sore, the sensation a constant reminder that I was his, he was mine, and we were not alone.

  I loosened the grip of my legs from around his waist, sliding down his body. He pressed against me, the jut of his erection now pressing into my belly.

  The sounds of the couple behind the curtain encouraged me as I pulled him to the floor with me, as I pulled him down on top of me. The stone was cold against my back, and as I shivered, Christus rolled until I sat astride his hips, straddling him.

  Lowering my head, I sank my teeth into his lower lip and heard a muted sound rise from his throat. I bit hard, half afraid I would draw blood and half not caring if I did. All I could think about was getting him hot enough and hard enough that he would take his cock and ram it into my cunt as hard as he could, over and over again.

  That he would fuck me until neither of us could remember anything at all.

  The noises he made as I continued my assault on his mouth pleased me; deep, growling noises that reminded me of a wild animal. I knew that he would make those same noises when he was touched elsewhere, and I wanted to hear them.

  Taking a firm hold on his waistband, my fingers worked at the knot of his subligaculum. I wanted him hard, as hard as he could get, right now. His hands slid up my hips, to my waist, then back down. He held me steady as I tussled with the firm, supple ties that were holding his leathers in place, and my fingers brushed over his cock, which was engorged and huge. I stroked him, feeling the firm length through his own wrap, measuring him with my hands.

  Desperate, I gave up on the knot and slipped my hands inside. He hissed out a breath, and I gentled my touch a bit. When my fingers met bare skin, I purred in delight; the hot silk of his cock felt wonderful under my fingers. I rubbed a finger across the tip and was rewarded when a drop of liquid oozed out to pearl on my fingertip. Fisting my hand around his shaft, I pumped it up and down and was rewarded as it grew harder and thicker in my palm.

  “Lilia.” His voice was thick as he rasped out my name. His heavy breaths joined the crescendo of the lovers on the other side of the curtain. Knowing that someone else was lost in bliss so close to us was intoxicating, as was the knowledge that anyone, anyone at all, could pull back this curtain, and could catch us in the middle of the act.

  It was a dangerous game, and I knew it. I could just imagine the expression on Gaius’ face if he were to walk in on me with Christus.

  In the end, that was the deciding factor. I wanted Christus, and I wanted him now, and I did not care if it was proper or not.

  “I am going to taste you.” Christus inhaled sharply as I slid down his legs, straddling his knees. Pulling impatiently at his leathers again, I sighed with triumph when they finally gave way, falling to the floor on either side of his hips.

  His naked cock rose from its nest of silky black hair. The length of his shaft pulsed with need, and the skin of the tip was flushed a delicious shade of pink.

  Slowly, my eyes on his, I lowered my head. I pressed my lips first to the inside of one thigh, then to the other. Short hairs tickled my nose, and I smiled as I licked my way across the crease that divided his taut abdomen from his leg.

  I moaned as I inhaled the musky scent that was uniquely Christus. His hands stroked over my head, then fisted in my hair, tugging slightly. I gasped at the sting, but loved it all the same.

  I took the base of his shaft in one hand, and he exhaled loudly. I sucked the fat tip of his cock into my mouth at the same time, and a groan fell from his lips.

  Another groan, this one like an echo, sounded from beside us. My clit throbbed, knowing how close the other couple was to us.

  Swirling my head around the tip, I tasted salt and musk and man.

  “Lilia.” He pushed my head forward, and I let him, sliding his shaft down the back of my throat. I nearly gagged, and tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, but I did not care. I wanted to please him.

  I had never done this before, and I did not know what he would like, and so went solely on instinct. I had heard the other men talk, though, about what they liked and what they did not, and I’d obtained ideas there.

  Pulling back until I was comfortable with where his member sat in my mouth, I began to suck, as hard as I could. The sound that issued from Christus’ mouth was one of near shock, and I stopped, releasing his cock from my mouth with a wet pop, thinking that I had perhaps hurt him.

  “No! No, do not stop!” He looked down at me, his torso propped up on his elbows, and on his face was a mixture of lust and appreciation. He liked what I was doing.

  “Your mouth feels so good.”

  I squirmed, as needy as he. Lowering my head again, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and moved it, slowly, up and down. At the same time I sucked just the tip in, sucking it as hard as I had done before.

  Mere moments had passed, moments that were silent on our side of the curtain and frenetic on the other, when I felt the now familiar clench in Christus’ thighs that told me he was about to find his release. Though I wanted to please him, I wanted—needed—to feel him inside of me, just this one last time.

  He pulled back at the same time that I did, and we stared at each other, our breathing ragged and unsteady.

  From the other side of the curtain came wails that told us the strangers had reached the height of their ecstasy. Knowing that we could pull that curtain back, that I could see them in the throes of their climax, was unbearably exciting.

  Our flesh collided as we lunged at each other, trying to regain our footing. I reached for the knot of my subligaculum, intending to climb him like a tree if need be. I was surprised when he lifted me as if I weighed nothing at all and carried me back to a small pile of cushions. Lowering my feet, then my knees, so quickly that I squealed, he twirled me around and placed my palms flat against the floor. Bending me over at the waist, he inched down the loosened leather of my subligaculum, his knuckles brushing against the soft triangle of downy curls as he did so. My exclamation of pleasure caught in my throat as he slid my bottoms down over my hips, past my knees, until they pooled around me on the floor.

  My knees were slid apart by one of his and held in place by the same. It was all going so fast, I knew that I should take a moment to slow down, to savor. But his hands had found the tips of my breasts, and I could feel them pucker in the cool breeze as one hand strummed across the pebbled tip. The other rolled the tight peg between thumb and forefinger. I could feel the tugs all the way down to my womb and the muscles of my cunt tightening, becoming slick, preparing for the intrusion of his cock.

  But he didn’t give it to me, not yet. His fingers wandered down until he found my clit, and I gasped as the first waves of pleasure began to roll through me, urging me to forget Gaius, to forget Hilaria, to forget everything but the delicious sensations that this man was sending through me.

  He slipped a finger inside of me, and my knees wobbled. He had a firm grip on me from behind, though, which was good. When his finger retracted covered in my wetness and began to stroke over my hard nub, my legs shook so hard that I thought I might fall.

  His hard shaft nudged at the cheeks of my ass, searching for my drenched cleft. I leaned over as far as I could, lifting my ass high in the air, so he could more easily access all of my sweet, hidden spots.

  The sudden pinch of his fingers on my clit made me cry out, and before I could quiet again, two of his fingers were inside of me, nestled between my sleek, snug inner walls. He rubbed up and down, pleasuring sensitive spots I had not even known I po
ssessed. The pressure built in me, growing brighter and brighter, until I was blinded by the sensations and swallowed a scream. My inner muscles clamped down on his fingers so tightly I was afraid I would hurt him. I rode the wave, whimpering as its huge pounding crests dulled down to tiny little ripples.

  I thought that now he would finally give me a taste of his cock, but instead of entering me from behind with his shaft as I had expected, he slid more fingers inside of me, and the stretching of my insides felt so good that I rocked my hips and pressed against his hand, wanting to take them all in.

  He understood and tentatively wiggled in the tip of a fourth digit, rotating it back and forth until it was slick enough with my cream to slide all the way up to join the others. My rocking movements against him became frenzied, and I growled, feeling the primal need to mate, to fuck, to entwine myself with my lover.

  His fingers flickered inside of me, and I cried out in desperation, because the only thing that could possibly assuage the ache I was feeling was his cock ramming into me from behind, over and over, battering my pussy until I shattered.

  From behind me, I felt Christus position his cock at the entrance to my cleft. He used his hands to help separate the folds of my ass cheeks, guiding his cock up and down, stroking me, until I felt the head slide past my entrance.

  I sighed in pleasure as he was inside me in one smooth thrust—all the way inside me—and my pussy clenched around him like a warm, wet mouth. He set a slow pace, and it felt so good, so right, the slow building of that undeniable pressure.

  He reached around to fondle my breast again, and I arched my back against him so more of my flesh spilled into his palm. He began to thrust harder, picking up speed until our flesh began to make harsh, slapping noises. I was so close, so close. When his hand lowered to brush over my clit, just one single time, I came so hard that I forgot, for a moment, who I was and why I was there. I could also feel the hard shot of him deep within me as he let out a groan, and I felt immeasurably pleased that I was able to bring him to such an intense orgasm.