by J. P. Bowie
“That’s right.” I felt a rush of relief at his words. “Then you know I’m not a spy.”
“Well, I didn’t say that.”
“He’s a spy all right,” the man who’d tried to kill me said, spitting on the ground. “Kill him, and take his head to Spartacus.”
“Just let me speak with Spartacus,” I pleaded.
The two soldiers glanced at one another, then the redhead grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.” He led me away from the three scoundrels. “We’ll let Spartacus decide your fate.”
“Thank you…” I stumbled alongside him. My night in the cold had rendered my legs numb, but as we walked through the trees, I could feel the strength return to them.
“What was your name again?”
“Lucius.”
“I’m Castus, and this is Cornelius.”
“I’m very glad to meet you,” I said sincerely. “If you had not appeared, they would have killed me, I think.”
“Damned camp followers.” Cornelius spat. “More trouble than they’re worth, sometimes. Scavengers, really.”
“So, why is it exactly you want to see Spartacus?” the one named Castus asked.
I hesitated in my reply, and before I could speak, Cornelius chuckled. “I wager it’s not Spartacus you want to see, is it? More like Callistus, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Huh!” Castus grunted. “Like that, is it?”
“Um…” I was at a loss for words. I doubted whether these two burly men would have much sympathy for my adolescent yearnings, but I was heartened by the fact they didn’t immediately run me through.
“He’ll be surprised to see you,” Cornelius said.
“Let’s hope for your sake, Lucius, it’s a pleasant surprise,” Castus added, laughing.
“He is well?” I ventured to ask.
“Fighting fit! Like most of us, a couple of cuts here and there. Nothing to stop him from enjoying your—” He broke off at that point, as if he had embarrassed himself. Cornelius let out a low chuckle, and the two men remained silent for the rest of the distance we traveled together.
Well, I thought, this could have been worse. At least the men seemed friendly enough, and they appeared to be well fed and healthy. Pillaging the countryside for food and provisions must have proven beneficial to the thousands of followers Spartacus had rallied to his side. And according to these men, Callistus was ‘fighting fit.’ My heart beat the faster at the thought that I would soon see him. No doubt, my arrival would surprise him. I could only hope that, as Castus had wryly remarked, it would be a pleasant one.
× × × × ×
The expression that flitted across his face on seeing me approach him, flanked on either side by men under his command, was not so much surprise, as shock.
“What,” he muttered, in a less than welcoming tone, “in the name of all the gods, are you doing here?” With a sharp command, he dismissed both Castus and Cornelius, then turned back to me, his eyes an icy blue stare. “What has possessed you, Lucius, to do this foolish thing?”
Taking a deep breath, and trying not to shake from the sudden deep misgiving that had gripped me, I said, “You have possessed me, Callistus. Ever since that day I first saw you in the slave market, the thought of you has never left my mind. I had to see you again. Forgive me, if I have overstepped the bounds of our friendship.”
“Our friendship…” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “You consider me your friend, Lucius? I am a renegade slave, responsible for the deaths of Roman soldiers, and condemned to death by the Senate. You are a respected citizen, a patrician. How could friendship exist between us?”
“I am willing to give up everything for you,” I said, quietly. “I care nothing for my status, or for yours. You are all I care about—”
He held up his hand to still my words. “Come inside.” He gestured toward the large tent behind us. Once inside, watching him pour two cups of wine, I felt I could breathe a little easier, thinking that he did not mean to dismiss me, and send me back to where he thought I belonged.
“You look well,” I said, accepting the cup he handed me. He looked magnificent, is what I meant. His skin glowed from the life he’d led outdoors in the past months, the short, sleeveless tunic he wore revealing the defined, sculpted muscles of his arms and legs.
“You look tired,” he remarked, his voice low and colored with what I wanted to believe was concern. “Come, sit over here. Are you hungry?”
I nodded, and sank gratefully onto the couch I imagined served also as his bed.
“I’ll be right back.” He stood, then left me alone in his tent. I looked around his Spartan-like quarters, and espied a basin of water in the corner. I felt a little rank after my three day march, and tired as I was, I wanted to smell clean and fresh for him. When he returned, I was naked, sponging myself at the basin of cold water. He paused at the tent flap, his eyes glinting as his gaze passed over my slim athletic body.
“I hope you do not mind…” I didn’t bother to cover myself. “Three days on the road…”
He didn’t look like he minded, but my self-assurance took a severe blow when I felt a wave of nausea overtake me. I staggered, then fell back onto the couch behind me. I must have passed out, for the next thing I knew I was lying under a blanket, Callistus gently bathing my face with a damp cloth.
“What happened?” I asked, feeling distinctly groggy.
“You were more tired than you knew.” He pushed back the damp curls from my brow. “You have been asleep for an hour.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to give you trouble, Callistus.” I gazed up at his handsome face, and put my hand to his cheek. My heart turned over when he took my hand in his, pressing it to his lips.
“You cannot stay here, Lucius.” His voice was thick with emotion. “It is too dangerous. There are legions massing for an attack. Spartacus means for us to move out to the north. You must go home. I will get you a horse to make the journey back easier.”
“But I want to stay with you… Surely you feel this special bond between us? Was that not why you saluted me in the arena? You felt it too, even as you saw me, that first day in the slave market.”
I put my arms about his neck and pulled him down so that our lips touched. Had he wanted to resist me, he could have done so easily, but he did not. Our lips met in a kiss that set my blood on fire. I clung to him, holding him captive, or so I imagined, while our tongues intertwined, caressing the inside of each other’s mouths, causing a surge of desire within me that shook me to the very core of my being. His strong arms tightened around me, the scent of his maleness making my senses reel with a need and longing I had never before acknowledged.
“Lucius,” he murmured against my lips.
“I love you, Callistus.” I kissed his mouth, his neck, his throat, wanting above all else to hear him say that he loved me too. But instead, he pulled back, removing my arms from around his neck.
His smile was filled with sadness as he gazed at me. “This cannot be, Lucius,” he said, softly. “I must send you home. For your own safety, I must. This is not your world, nor are you prepared for what lies ahead of us. We will have to fight many battles before we reach Gaul.”
“Gaul? That’s where you’re headed?”
“It is where Spartacus intends us to go. There, I can raise an army that will stop the Roman legions in their tracks.”
I looked at him, remembering the words of Rollus, my manservant. He is a man of some importance, in his own country. “You can raise an army? Were you a general in Gaul?”
He smiled. “Something akin to that.” He was silent for a moment then he said, “You are right, Lucius. I do feel this bond between us, but we are not in a position to act upon it at present. There are many miles and many dangers between here and Gaul. The Roman Senate has vowed that we will be captured, and put to the sword. I cannot let you endanger your life with mine.”
“But—”
He laid a finger on my l
ips to still my words. “Let me put it this way, Lucius, I will not allow you to do so. But I will promise you this, that if and when my differences with the Romans are settled, I will try to find a way to send for you.”
“But that might take years,” I cried, unmanly tears springing to my eyes. “And what if you are injured or killed, how will I ever know what has become of you?”
“We must leave that to the gods.”
“Oh, Callistus.” I pressed my face to his chest. “The gods can be so cruel. They let me find you, only to lose you again.”
“Hush…” He kissed my brow. “You will stay with me tonight, but tomorrow you must go. Try to send word when you reach home safely. I will rest easier knowing you are with your family again.”
His words of caring brought more tears to my eyes—a veritable floodgate. He held me as I sobbed against his chest. “I am sorry,” I hiccupped. “I really did not come all this way just to shower you with my tears.”
He tipped my face to his and kissed my wet cheeks. I pressed my lips to his, emboldened now by his obvious affection for me. I flung away the blanket that separated his body from mine, and let my hand stray to his bare thigh, gently stroking the smooth skin. My fingers inched higher, rewarded by finding his manhood, hard and proud beneath his tunic. He leaned back on the couch, pulling me on top of him, his hands stroking and caressing my naked body. I released him only long enough to help him pull his tunic over his head, then we fell upon one another, hands and mouths exploring, my lips encircling his cock, my tongue licking at the salty essence that leaked from it.
His body shuddered in ecstasy beneath me. His hands stroked my face as I tried to take all of him into my mouth. My nose, buried in the thatch of his pubic hair, inhaled his musky scent. He was so big, so hard, I wondered in my euphoria how long since he’d been this close to anyone else. It was difficult for me to believe that a man of his beauty would not be sought after by every man and woman he came close to. I found a source of deep satisfaction in knowing that I was the one he had chosen to give him pleasure. Those thoughts inspired me to give him something that perhaps, after this day, he could not live without—me. Petronius had shown me a little trick done with the tongue. I used it on Callistus now, grasping his thick shaft, flicking at the sensitive underside of his cock head with the tip of my tongue, before taking it all back into my mouth.
He groaned as I brought him almost to the point of orgasm. He pulled me away from my prize, showering my face, my neck, and my chest with burning hot kisses. My body arched in ecstasy under this onslaught of unbridled passion. His mouth moved over my torso, licking, probing, setting my every nerve on fire. He cradled me in his arms, and I writhed with pleasure beneath him as his mouth engulfed my aching erection. I was not sure just how much of this ecstasy I could bear without coming to release too soon. I let myself enter a dreamlike state, for indeed it was all like a dream, a wonderful dream that at last the man I loved and desired above all others was holding me in his arms, taking me in his mouth, bringing me close to the brink...
I stroked his face, and whispered, “Please, I want you inside me…”
He raised his head and smiled at me, his brilliant blue eyes smoldering with lust. He turned me over, burying his face in the cleft between my buttocks. I clutched at the fabric beneath me in a frenzied ecstasy as he laved my opening with his tongue, which seemed as if it had a life and will of its own. From someplace near, I heard a moaning like an animal in heat, then, with a shocked realization, knew these sounds were coming from me! Gods, but the feel of his tongue pushing and swirling inside me brought me almost to a state of total collapse. Just as I thought I could not stand another second of this ecstasy, I felt him kneel over me, grasp my hips, and pull me in closer to him. He entered me, slowly at first, then as I opened to him, thrusting in hard, making me gasp with shock. He felt huge inside me. I reached behind me, and grasped his lean hips, pulling him in even further. Now it was his turn to gasp as my sphincter tightened on his pulsing cock, and held him fast.
We started a slow and sensual rhythm, our bodies rocking together, matching thrust for thrust. Without pulling free from me, he turned me over onto my back, and I wound my legs around his narrow waist. He lowered his face to mine, our eyes locked on one another, our lips touching lightly, his breath filling my mouth. Our rhythm quickened as need took over. I could feel my cock pulsing against my belly, and I knew I was going to erupt without ever touching myself. I wrapped my arms around his muscular body, and almost lifted myself off the couch as I clung to him, feeling the hard jarring of his body against mine.
His big body shuddered in my arms, and he let out a great guttural shout as he ejaculated deep inside me. I arched in ecstasy feeling the torrent of his scalding seed flood into me. A moment later, my own orgasm rushed over me. Behind my closed eyelids, a million stars burst in brilliant color and his name was torn from my lips as I climaxed, spraying both our torsos with my hot semen.
He stretched the full length of his amazing body on top of me, his mouth crushing mine, his hands clutching at my hair, as if to pull my face even closer to his. We lay there, entwined in each other’s arms for a long, long time. When I found I still had breath enough in my body, I murmured, “I love you, Callistus. I love you...”
We lay dozing in each other’s arms, my head on his broad chest, my lips touching his left nipple. When I could think clearly, and was able to relive this rapturous encounter, it seemed it belonged in a dream. If it were not for the fact that I could feel his hard warm flesh beneath my hand, hear the beating of his heart, I could never have believed it had really happened. I had dreamed of this before, of course, time and many, alone in my bed, yet the fulfillment of those dreams was beyond anything I could have imagined.
Firstly, his tenderness had surprised me. I had expected a man like Callistus, imbued with a warrior’s soul, and the strength few men possessed, to be somewhat rough and demanding. I had told myself that I would accept that part of him without complaint, but nothing could have been further from the truth. While he did not exactly handle me like some fragile doll, afraid that his big hands might break me, he seemed to know just the right amount of pressure to apply to his caresses, and just how tightly he could hold me without inducing winces. And when he had taken me, and joined us with his ultimate power over me, the pain had been eclipsed by the rapture his lips and hands had brought me.
My pleasantly sensual reverie was somewhat rudely interrupted, as a deep growl of hunger erupted in my stomach. He turned to me, smiling.
“Was that a call for help?” he murmured, kissing my nose. I admitted I had not eaten in two days. With a grunt, he rolled off the couch, stretching his muscular body like a satisfied cat. “I will get us something to eat.”
I gazed up at this vision of perfection, the contours and planes of his body highlighted in the soft glow of the nearby lamp. I reached up to stroke the curve of his buttocks. “Come back quickly,” I said. “The bed grows cold without you.”
Throwing on his tunic, he left the tent, returning a few minutes later with a large bowl of lamb stew and a hunk of bread, which I gladly devoured without too much grace. He grinned as he watched me, then handed me a cup of warmed wine.
“You’re not hungry?” I asked him.
“Well, I thought that might have fed us both.”
I looked into the empty bowl, and flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, I am sorry. You must think me some kind of hog, with no manners whatsoever.”
He laughed, and stroked the side of my face. “It was good to see you enjoy our less than fashionable fare.”
“It was excellent.” I swallowed some of the wine, then handed him the cup. “At least, I saved some of that for you.”
He took the cup and raised it to his lips, taking some of the wine into his mouth. Then he leaned forward, cupped my chin in his hand, and kissed me, letting the wine flow from his mouth to mine. I almost cried with happiness in his arms, accepting his sensual gift so lovingly giv
en. I knew I would remember that moment all my life.
We made love again, and again. He became playful, and we wrestled and played like boys, on the tent floor. I discovered my big Gaul was ticklish, and went at him without mercy, until we thought his great shouts of laughter might awaken the entire camp.
Then, all too soon, the first gray light of dawn invaded our private haven, and brought with it, the cold realization to my heart that our time together was over. I pulled his arms even tighter about me, pressing my body to his, in the hope that my closeness would make him rethink his earlier determination that I should return home. But even as his lips touched my shoulder, I knew he had not changed his mind. I turned to him, my eyes searching his face, silently beseeching him to let me stay.
“Lucius, Lucius,” he murmured, kissing me gently. “You make our parting harder, by looking at me that way. You know it must be so—”
I covered his mouth with my own to still the words I did not wish to hear. His arms tightened about me, crushing me to his hard, thrilling body. I pressed myself to him, determined that before he bade me go, I would give him something he would always remember, and perhaps regret no longer having. Even as he tried to resist my resolve to have him one last time, I felt him weaken under the onslaught of my caresses. He gasped as my mouth traveled the length of his torso, covering his chest, and his hard, ridged abdomen with hungry kisses until I reached his manhood, already standing hard and erect, waiting for my lips to hold it a willing prisoner.
I ran my tongue around the broad tip, my hand gripping the hot, hard shaft. I felt his body spasm and stiffen beneath me, and I paused for a moment, before reaching for his balls, teasing them with my tongue, probing beneath them at the opening to his core. His body writhed under my hands, his fingers tangled in my hair as I brought him to the brink of ecstasy.
“Lucius,” he groaned, and I smiled as I straddled his hips, guiding his erection inside me, easing myself down upon its length, reveling in the sight of his beautiful face now caught in the throes of rapture. His big hands grasped my waist, and we moved to a rhythm born of passion and carnal desire. He raised himself up, his lips pressed to my chest, his touch scalding my skin, bringing me an orgasm that was almost painful in its intensity. His hips thrust upward, burying his cock even deeper inside me, and a cry that was almost a sob was wrenched from him as he ejaculated, once more filling me with his seed.