by K. Bromberg
As daylight began to fade, Aia brushed her fingertips over my shoulder and began to remove herself to the bench where she usually slept.
“Would you stay beside me?” The thought left my lips in the form of a question, and I found it odd I had phrased it in such a way. I could have commanded her to do so, but I realized I wanted her to desire it as much as I did.
“Of course, Faustus,” Aia replied as she settled back into my arms.
“This room is cold,” I said. Why I found it necessary to explain myself was mystery. I looked down her body as I ran my hand from her hip up to her shoulder. “You are warm.”
Our eyes locked over each other’s gaze, and we both paused. If Caesar himself had entered the room, I couldn’t have drawn my look from her deep blue eyes. I was a prisoner to them. My fingers twitched without order from me to do so as I moved them from her shoulder back to her side. I realized I had not drawn breath since our eyes had met, and I attempted to release the air slowly.
I still hadn’t looked away from her gaze. Her eyes grew soft, hooded, and the desire I found in them unmistakable. Her fingers traced the planes of my chest and then continued down to my stomach.
“You touch me as a lover would,” I remarked, “not just as my nurse.”
I smiled at her blush as she looked away.
“I think you desire my touch,” I teased.
“You are gentle.”
I widened my eyes at her.
“Gentle?” I huffed a short laugh through my nose. “I have not ever heard that particular word used to describe me.”
I watched her for a long moment.
“What do you know of me?” I asked.
Aia moved her eyes to my chest as she spoke.
“You command one of Caesar’s legions in the west, against the Gauls,” she said. “You had a wife and child, but they passed into the afterlife some time ago, and you have never remarried. Your father is a senator in Rome, and your family holds more coin than the gods themselves.”
She looked back to me.
“Or so I have heard.”
My mouth twitched in a grin, but it was short-lived. What she knew was truth, but it was not the knowledge she needed to understand with whom she had lain.
“I am a soldier,” I said quietly. “I’ve moved through your homeland, destroying everything I encountered—burning villages, killing men, enslaving children, and raping women before I slit their throats—and you call me gentle?”
I felt her body tense at my harsh words, and my stomach twisted. Oddly enough, it was important to me that she knew the black heart of the man she apparently desired.
“You are gentle with me,” was all she whispered in reply.
I suppose I had been, in my own way. I’d also snapped at her more frequently than not, but I did hold her in highest appreciation for her steadfastness. Yes, she had been commanded to tend to me, but the manner in which she did so was more than expected. Still, her description of me I found most inaccurate, and as I thought a moment, I wondered what young Aia may have endured at the hands of her Dominus that made her consider me anything but a brute.
“And your master?”
She tilted her head away from my gaze.
“He is…rough and quick.” There was more to her thoughts than her mouth revealed, but I decided not to press the issue. I didn’t want my own mind to wander in the direction of Aia in the arms of her Dominus. Considering how many business ventures Cassianus indulged, I doubted he spent much time at the hospital at all. I hadn’t laid eyes on the man since I had arrived.
“The doctor?” I inquired, and her lips turned into a tight-lipped smile.
“A brooding soul,” she said, “and one who prefers the company of men. He is quite harsh at times and quick to…to discipline.”
The idea enraged me.
What I said to her before was true—I was considered more beast than man when it came to my enemies. I cared not for the outcome of those I sent into slavery or to the mines and was more likely to order the deaths of my captives than bother with forcing them into servitude. Those who did not see the value of the Roman Empire and Caesar’s rule were irrelevant; their choice was to succumb or perish. They would either die at my hands on the battlefield or serve Rome in some other capacity until their untimely deaths at the hands of their masters or in the gladiators’ arena. The unfamiliar concern for how the doctor treated this young slave girl sat in the pit of my gut like sour wine.
Did my own slaves fare better?
No, they were often worse off at the hands of their betters in my household, but I cared nothing for them. They could all be replaced with a handful of coins. But Aia? She was different.
I trailed my fingers up her side and over her arm. When I reached her shoulder, my hand lingered and experienced the softness of her warm skin for a moment. I dragged my tongue over my dry lips as I cupped her chin and finally looked back to her eyes.
They were wide, deep blue, and they burned into me. I moved slowly as I changed my focus to her full lips, to her eyes, and then back again. Diminishing the gap between us to nothing, our lips finally met. I could feel my body’s desire to invade her mouth with my tongue as I would invade the lands of the savages fighting against Rome, but I restrained myself.
Gentle.
I pressed my lips firmly but slowly. I tilted my head first one way and then the other. She warmed my lips, and I felt her mouth part for me when I pressed my tongue to her. Moving my hand to the back of her head, I entwined my fingers in her hair and held her fast as I tasted her.
My cock took notice of the close proximity of her thighs, and made itself known to her. My hands traveled over the skin of her back, and her warmth seeped into me. I pushed the top of her dress away from her shoulders, exposing her firm breasts to my eyes. Needing more, I dropped my hand to her thigh and pushed the cloth of her dress up, exposing her backside. Reaching low, my hand found the sweet spot between her thighs.
She was wet with her desire, and I found the will to resist the pain in my side much weaker than the will to keep my cock from finding its way into her body. I pushed at the top of my subligarium, releasing my turgid shaft.
“Please,” Aia whispered as our lips parted, “let me offer you release as I have before.”
“I do not want simple release,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to feel your body give way to mine. I want to feel your flesh engulf my cock. I want to taste your sweat as we merge into one. Simple release is no longer enough.”
“Faustus…”
“Lucius,” I said as my mouth covered hers again,
“Lucius,” she repeated in a moan against my lips.
The thoughts in my head beat against my skull as a warhorse’s hooves beat the ground of the battlefield in pursuit of a retreating enemy. My heart pounded in my chest at the sound of my name. With my cock in hand, I pressed the tip to the apex of her legs, seeking entrance. The need to be inside her was overwhelming, and holding back no longer seemed possible.
I was not an emotional man; some would say to a fault. Perhaps it was the awkward position of needing her these past weeks that brought such feelings into my soul, or maybe it was just Aia—her demeanor, her deep blue eyes, and her soft, caring hands.
Breaking our kiss, I stared at her for a long moment. With my cock mere inches from its goal, I slipped my hand from her hair, traced a fingertip over her cheek, down her jawline, and finally cupped her chin. I kissed her again, and she again moaned.
“Lucius…”
“Beautiful music,” I said quietly as I traced my thumb over her lower lip. “Do you enjoy the taste of my name in your mouth?”
I didn’t wait for her response but pressed my lips to hers. I moved slowly against her, just barely touching her lips with my tongue. Her hot breath covered my face, and I again gripped my shaft and positioned myself to claim her.
She enveloped me, embraced me, and drew me in. She slowly raised her leg up and over my hip, careful not to b
rush against the wound at my side, and I pulled her ass against me to bury myself in her completely.
“Slowly,” she whispered. “Please, Lucius.”
I thrilled to the idea, holding her softly in my arms as I moved our bodies together. Her skin was like silk beneath my palms, and the sweet smell of her breath surrounded me. Taking her slowly was all too glorious a plan though my cock wanted its release. She felt magnificent…divine…right.
Aia moved with me, attempting to better the angle to ease my passage in and out of her warm channel. I could feel the heel of her foot against the lower part of my back as she pulled me into her in slow, peaceful rhythms. The action still pained my side, but I ignored it.
With my hand over her ass, I thrust deep inside her and stayed where I was, rotating my hips against her pubic bone in slow, rhythmic circles. Aia gasped, and her hand moved to clench my arm as she looked up into my eyes, and I captured her mouth.
She moaned as I moved, nearly crying out as my tongue searched her mouth and found the sweetest of treasures there. No amount of coin could compare with this. There was no price to be put on the feeling I experienced as we moved together.
Grinding against her body, I stayed deep inside of her and watched her face as she began to come apart. Aia tightened her leg around my backside as she gripped the tops of my arms. Her mouth fell open, and the sweetest, most incomprehensible sound escaped from it as her body tensed around my cock.
She nearly collapsed in my arms, and I had to move my hand down her back and grip her firmly as I continued to plow into her. Sweat covered my brow, chest, and back. The pain in my side increased, but it didn’t matter. With a grunt, I buried myself within her, retreated, and stabbed forward again as I tried to hold a scream inside my throat.
My thighs and stomach clenched and tingled as the swelling sensation began in my balls and refused to be held back any longer. With a final thrust of my hips, I emptied my seed deep inside of her.
With eyes clenched shut, my body shuddered as I held myself against her hips. I dared not move, because when I did, it would be over. I didn’t know if I would have another opportunity to lie with her like this again, and I dreaded the end of our coupling.
“Are you hurt?” Aia whispered quietly. She shifted to check my side, and my cock slid from her. I cringed from the cold air more so than the light touch of her hand on my bandages.
“It is of no concern,” I replied as I opened my eyes. “Each pain was worth the effort.”
We locked eyes, and again we seemed unable to look away. Aia’s fingers moved up to trace the edge of my jaw, and I leaned into her touch. My heart began to pound in my chest, and I wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to me.
With my arms holding her against my body, we both lay back against the bed and fell into sleep. My head filled with dreams of the young slave, cooking in the kitchen of my villa back in Rome.
I woke sometime in the night to find Aia still wrapped in my embrace. She was curled against my chest, and her slim fingers lay softly over my heart. Her dress was pulled down in the front, exposing her firm, young breasts, and the bottom half of her gown was bunched around her waist. I toyed with the edge of her clothing, rubbing the fabric between my fingers and then wrapped my arm back around her middle to pull her a little closer to me.
Her thigh brushed against my cock, and I closed my eyes. I breathed slowly for a moment to calm myself. Although the idea of having her wake with my cock in her body was attractive, I didn’t wish to disturb her slumber. Instead, I took the opportunity to study her carefully.
Her hair hung down her back and covered part of her shoulder in golden waves. Tilting my head, I examined her smooth flesh in the glow of the warm candlelight and the contrast of the pale skin tone with the cold bronze of the collar around her neck. I resisted the urge to remove the band from her throat to keep it from disturbing the transition of her form from neck to shoulder.
Closing my eyes again, I absorbed the feeling of her body against mine. Memories of my late wife entered my head, and I recalled times I would wake to find her in my arms in similar fashion. There had been little love between us, but my passion for her remained strong until the birth of our child, when my wife fell ill.
The turmoil inside me now, though laced with similar passion, was very different from the emotions felt for the woman I had married. The feeling seized me, called to me, and terrified me.
I should not feel so for a slave.
Even as the thought entered my head, I dismissed it. I was a Tribunus. I was used to taking what I wanted and dealing with whatever consequences might come later. Why should I treat my desire for a slave any differently than how I would treat my desire to conquer the western lands?
I would not.
I would take her as I have taken everything I’ve wanted.
Aia stirred in my arms. She hummed from the back of her throat before shifting her head and opening her eyes to look into mine. I smiled immediately, and she returned the expression.
“How do you fare?” Aia asked quietly.
“I fare well, waking to such beauty.”
Her smile turned shy as she looked away, causing my heart to race in the presence of her seemingly innocent expression, a strange look from one who had so recently serviced me so well.
“Do you know your worth?” I asked abruptly.
“My worth?”
I steadied my breathing to slow my heart as I stared into her eyes.
“You have skill with medicines,” I said, “but you are still nothing but a slave. The good doctor could train another to hand him his bandages and ointments.”
Aia blinked, opened her mouth slightly, but then closed it again without making comment.
“Two coins, at most,” I said succinctly. “I’d say one, but you are not without other merits which make you desirable.”
She turned her head from my gaze, but I could see the crestfallen look on her face. I would take it no further, the point driven.
“Aia, you mistake my intention.” Though it pained me slightly, I raised my body to prop myself up on one elbow as I looked down at her. “I wish to possess you…completely. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”
She shook her head slightly, her confusion apparent on her face. I fought with my tongue to find the right words to explain myself.
“I want you to bake bread,” I finally said, “just for me—here in this place, on the battlefield, in my villa in Rome.”
She turned her head back to me, her eyes searching for answers. She seemed in shock and unable to speak in response, so I made my intentions clear.
“I would give you worth,” I stated.
For a moment, I thought I saw her eyes swell with tears before she blinked rapidly, and they were gone. Her hands began to shake, and I wrapped my fingers around them.
“Aia—will you bake bread for me?”
Her beautiful lips parted and gave me my answer.
“Yes, Lucius.”
A noise off to my side informed me of the return of Sergius. I looked to the doctor with a scowl as Aia quickly pushed herself away from me and stood beside the cot, straightening her dress. The doctor glared at her as he approached and checked my dressing.
“You are coming along nicely,” he said. He stood and looked to Aia. “A word, slave.”
I saw her hands tremble at his command.
“I will have words with you,” I said quickly to the doctor. He paused and nodded. “My progress is sufficient, and I will begin to make plans to return to the legion camp.”
“You are not yet ready for battle, Tribunus,” he said. “Another week, perhaps two-”
“I’ll be returning to the legion camp in two days,” I informed him. “I can continue to heal from there. You will prepare all that I need to take with me to further my recovery.”
“If you insist, Faustus.”
“I do.” I sat up slightly and looked from the doctor to the slave girl and then back again. “I wi
sh to speak to Cassianus. Bring him to me.”
“He is likely on his way to the gladiatorial games,” Sergius said. “Juno’s day approaches.”
“Upon his return then.”
“I will inform him of your desire for audience.”
I glared up at the doctor.
“You will inform him that he has been summoned,” I corrected. “I expect him here.”
“Of course, Tribunus.”
He again checked the dressing on my wound in silence, poured another cup of foul liquid down my throat, and took his leave, his plan to discipline Aia forgotten. I took the opportunity to continue my previous conversation with the slave.
“I would give you worth,” I told her.
“I don’t understand, Faustus.”
“I will buy you from your master,” I clarified, “and you will accompany me to my camp. You will continue to tend my wound and provide me with other distractions from the battlefield.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at me.
“Are you agreeable?” I asked. Her preferences should not have mattered to me, but still I inquired. My eyes bore into her as she looked at me with awe. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and nodded her head.
“Yes, Lucius,” she said softly. “I would be most grateful.”
A slow smile spread across my face as I saw the truth of her words in her deep blue eyes. She wanted this as much as I did.
“Then it will be done,” I swore to her softly.
Her agreement brought a smile to my lips, and again her worth to me increased.
IV
“Bring Antonius to me.”
I clenched my teeth and stood on shaky legs as Cassianus watched me warily.
“Sergius tells me you are not yet fit for travel,” he said. “He says you need more time to heal. A few more weeks at the hospital will undoubtedly-”