by Glover, Nhys
Her dark brown eyes were as round as little balls as her full lips formed a wordless moue. Her skin, in the lamplight, was a dusky cream, and told him her ancestry was possibly Egyptian or part Nubian. Her black hair, formed into tight, cockscrew tendrils, fanned out around her head on the pillow. She was so small, even for a woman, and yet so perfectly rounded in all the right places. Her breasts were large and prominent, nipples perky and upthrust against the coarse fabric of her tunic. His hands craved the feel of them.
And his little Ninia liked what he did to her. She liked to kiss him. But he had to go slowly with her. There was so much fear, so much distrust. Yet the way she responded to him was pleasing. More than pleasing.
When she shifted her wide hips, trying to get more sensation from his hand, he obliged her. Then he leaned over and found her nipple that was standing erect beneath the tunic. He’d buy her something finer than this tomorrow. Fine linen or wool. Something that would slip across her breasts and make her squirm.
He took the tiny point into his mouth and sucked on it gently through the cloth. Her hips came up off the bed so hard she was shocked.
‘What did that feel like, my Ninia?’ he growled.
‘What? I… I can’t explain… Like there was a line of fire that burned from your mouth to your hand.’
‘It feels good?’
She shrugged and looked away, blushing. The lamp flickered. The oil was almost gone. It was late, very late, although the carousing hadn’t stopped outside the door. He felt so very tired, and yet so aroused by what he was doing. Wanting her. Not just because he was the hero. But because she wanted him. Even if she didn’t know it fully yet.
‘If I slide my hand up your legs and cup you here, without anything between us, will you let me?’ He slowly released her and went to the hem of her long gown. He’d need her to lift up so he could ruck it up, or he wouldn’t be able to reach her core.
She nodded nervously and let him ease her gown upward. Then his rough fingers grazed their way up the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Gods, she felt so good. When he put his cupped hand over her triangle of curls, she bucked against his hand again. He parted her lips and touched her smooth, slick petals. So hot. So wet. For him. Only for him.
When he pressed a finger into her, she froze. Too much. He was trying to get too much.
‘Don’t you like what I’m doing?’ he growled against her ear.
She shook her head, and tried to pull away from him. Immediately, he released her. Too much. Her fear had taken the place of pleasure. Too much.
He pulled down the hem of her gown and gently kissed her lips, one last time. Then he turned her over so her back faced him. He curled his aching body around her. She held herself stiff for several moments, until she realized he was only settling in to sleep, even when his painful arousal was pressed hard against her soft, rounded bottom.
‘Go to sleep, little one. We have a long day ahead of us…’ He dropped a kiss behind her ear, and then let himself fall into the sleep his body desperately needed. The contest had been harder than he described to her. Either he was out of condition, sicker than he thought, or the gladiator was better than he should have been. Whatever, it had been gruelling. But he was never going to lose. She needed him to win. What would she do without him?
It was a new feeling to be needed. To be someone’s protector. It made him feel strong and vulnerable at the same time. So damaged… she was so damaged. How was someone like him going to help her heal, when he was worse off than she was?
But those thoughts were for another day. At dawn they would be away from this place, sailing north again. This time, there would be no deadly storm. This time, the gods had what they wanted. Now all they had to do was follow where they led.
19 September 79 CE, Caralis SARDINIA
It was still dark when Ninia felt the soft lips move against her neck. For a moment, she relaxed into the delicious feeling of it. Then, as reality returned, she stiffened. The kisses stopped and the warm body behind her moved away.
‘Time to be up and about, little one, first light is not long away.’ The voice was hoarse with sleep and pain, but it was happy enough. How could he be happy after being refused his right as hero? She expected him to be sulky and angry with her, now that his alcohol induced good mood had turned into a hangover.
She rolled off the pallet and began to make quiet preparations for their departure. There was no need to mention stealth. They both knew how important getting away undetected was for them. Their host might take their money or force Braxus to fight again today, given half the chance. Better to be gone before the temptation to do either or both took his fancy.
As they moved through the already stirring marketplace, Braxus bought food for their journey. Even though they now had plenty of money, he spent the extra time haggling down the price. Ninia smiled as she watched him. He did everything with enthusiasm, even shopping.
They found a merchant ship just about to set out for Gallicum Fretum in Corsica. It would hug the Sardinian east coast, all the way, an idea that reassured Ninia greatly after the nightmare storm they’d been through. Their only port of call would be Olbia on the north eastern tip of Sardinia. They’d spend tonight there before finishing their journey the next morning.
Settling on the deck of the small vessel, out of the way of the crew, brought back memories of her journey with her father. Fresh pain assailed her, and she gasped as if from a physical blow. Braxus, who sat on the deck at her side, his head bent in pain, glanced her way.
‘What’s wrong?’
She turned away from his concern. It seemed too proprietorial this morning, reminding her of what she’d let him do the night before.
‘Nothing. Just a memory.’
‘Of?’ He wouldn’t let it go. Why did he want to get inside her head all of a sudden? But then, hadn’t she been the one to start all this sharing? What had come over her that day when she challenged him to tell her about his childhood? Now he considered her every thought was his to know about.
‘Does it matter? Memories are memories. They have nothing to do with now.’
She shot him a challenging glance and saw that her holding back hurt him. Immediately, she was contrite. He was hung over from his enforced celebration after a gladiatorial contest. A contest he’d fought for her. He could have died for her. How mean spirited was it to withhold something as insignificant as her memory of her father?
‘I was remembering travelling like this with my father,’ she said grudgingly, curling up against the edge of the hatch.
He looked back at her and his eyes, bloodshot as they still were, seemed unnecessarily grateful. ‘What was he like?’
Before she could stop them, the words started pouring out, along with a trickle of tears. ‘He was from Numidia, sold into slavery as a child. He was not a tall man, nor a particularly handsome one, even in his youth, so my mother told me, but there was something solid about him. Like he would be loyal to those he loved to his dying breath. A rock. My mother was Epyrian, born and bred into slavery, and very beautiful. She was the Master’s bed slave before he married Saliva. Then she became the cook and married father.
‘She was a little taller than him, and substantially bigger, the older she got. But she never lost her looks. I suppose she could have had any of the male slaves of the household. But she chose father because he made her feel safe. I think it broke them both when Publius… hurt me. Father couldn’t keep me safe. If it had only meant his death, he’d have killed Publius, I have no doubt. But the laws are strict and harsh. We would all have died if he’d raised his hand to his master.’
She paused, trying to collect her emotions, which were in disarray. She had never really thought about what her dark place had caused her parents. Now she realised that by going there she had hurt them terribly, had probably put massive pressure on their marriage. All because she had allowed that bastard to turn her into a shadow. If she’d been strong, like Braxus had been strong, it would have b
een nothing more than another aspect of slavery. After all, she could have been made a bed slave, as her mother had. Making so much out of it had damaged more than her.
‘But he saved you in the storm. That would have meant everything to him.’
Ninia had almost forgotten Braxus was there. She considered what he said. It was true. Maybe, by giving his life to save her, it had been redemption for him. She’d never know for sure. All she did know was that she missed him so much. More than her mother.
When they arrived at Olbia mid-afternoon, Braxus took her to the Forum to buy her fresh clothes. The undergarments he bought were the finest fabric, and it embarrassed her to see how efficient he was with such matters. It also worried her that they spent good money on such extravagances. But he would hear none of her arguments, and he bought her clothes that were fit for a wealthy woman.
He chose less expensive tunics for himself, and when Ninia pointed that out, he claimed that his skin was tougher than hers. Braxus also spent more money than necessary on the best accommodation and food for the night. After a while, she had to give up arguing over every ass he spent. It was his money, he’d earned it. It was up to him how he chose to spend it.
It was a chilly night, when they finally settled in to their comfortable bed. They were bathed, fed and warm, a world away from their nights on the rocky beach to the south. For a long time after the lamp was snuffed out, they lay in silence, several inches apart.
‘How do you feel?’ she asked into the darkness.
‘Horny.’
She felt her face grow hot, and she edged away from him a little more.
‘Sorry. I said the first thing on my mind. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear was it?’
‘No… I was asking about your sickness, and your hangover, and the wounds from the fight.’
‘Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My body’s used to taking it. Don’t worry about me.’
‘You remind me of my father,’ she said softly. ‘I feel safe when you’re around.’
‘My feelings are not fatherly.’ He gave a little grunt of amusement.
‘You want to kiss me again.’ It was half question, half statement of fact.
‘I do. But I’m not drunk tonight, so you’re safe.’
‘I was safe last night, even when you were drunk. That meant a lot to me. Anyone else would have…’
‘I wanted to. It was a close call.’
‘I don’t believe that. There wasn’t a moment when I felt you were losing control. I think you’re the most controlled man I’ve ever known.’
‘Learned it the hard way. Even in battle, it pays to keep control. There are said to be warriors from the north that work themselves into a fevered state before they fight, and then they go mad with rage, fighting like ten men, killing everything in their path. That kind of madness I’ve felt, but not for long. You make mistakes. Instinct is one thing, the brain something else. I prefer to use my head.’
‘If you want to kiss me again, that would be all right.’
For a moment he was silent, and the air charged around them. ‘You can say stop anytime…’
‘I know. That’s why I suggested it.’
The moon had just risen high enough to send its weak light into their small room. The window was open, for all the chill in the air, and the sound of the wagons moving along the lanes was a dull rumble in the darkness. There were voices from downstairs, and in the rooms next door, but it felt as if they were in their own little space, miles from anywhere, or anyone.
‘You don’t owe me this, Ninia.’ Braxus turned on his side so he could look at her. His features were dark and cavernous in the shadowed moonlight. Only his voice told her what he was feeling. It was cautiously hopeful.
‘I do. But that’s not why I’m offering.’
He didn’t say more. She felt a momentary fear as he moved in on her like a predatory beast, quick and confident. But when his lips touched hers, it was with gentle warmth. He asked nothing of her. And that was enough to remove the last of her concerns.
Ninia kissed him with all her heart. Holding nothing back. And his response was immediate and thrilling. Instead of gentleness, there was desire and uncontrolled passion. Just as the tinder had lit so quickly the night before, so it happened again, igniting something Ninia was coming to know well. That ache was instantly back between her legs, and her breasts felt tender and swollen. Her breath caught in her chest, and she was dizzy with want.
With one shaky hand she reached out and ran her fingers through his overlong straight hair. It felt soft and clean, like fine silk. Her touch seemed to drive him on, harder. Fiercer. And she felt no fear.
When he lifted the end of her gown up, she let him. She could have no more denied him, in this moment, as she could have stopped breathing. There was something dynamic and powerful arcing between them that would not be stopped. When his fingers found her core she felt relief, as if having him touch her there was like coming home. When his fingers slipped into her, she opened her legs wider, her body knowing what was required. What she needed.
‘I need these off,’ Braxus said, his voice gruff with need. She didn’t have to be asked twice. She sat up and dragged her gown over her head and threw it aside. Then Braxus was dragging the loin cloth and shift off her too.
For a moment, when she lay naked before him, she felt fear. The look in his eyes was so fierce and possessive, she felt like he was about to devour her whole. She wanted to cover herself, but when she tried, Braxus grabbed her hands and held them at her sides.
‘Don’t… please. Let me look at you. By the gods, you are so beautiful…’ The harsh awe in his voice made her limbs melt.
‘You, now…’ she said when she finally found her voice.
With quick efficiency he removed his clothes and was back at her side. What am I doing? This won’t stop now until…
‘You can say stop anytime,’ he reassured her. Braxus seemed to read her mind.
For a moment she let her eyes take him in. His body was lean and muscular, every line hard with masculine beauty. His face, unscarred, would have made him too perfect, too beautiful, with that full bottom lip ripe as a plum, and that nose as straight and fierce as a bird of prey’s. Then there were his eyebrows, dark and arrow straight, above deep set eyes she couldn’t see in the shadowy confines of their room. But the scar had a harsh beauty of its own. It sliced his face in a curve that was almost graceful. Such a mark of pain, such a mark of desperation… and yet it made him look strong and hard and invincible. It made him all the more attractive to her.
Her thoughts were brought to a crashing end as he swooped in to kiss her again, drawing her body in close, so every naked inch of her was against his bare flesh. It felt so good, she moved against him, enjoying the slick friction generated. When he moaned, the cords in his neck standing out as he arched his head back, she knew he was as moved by their closeness as she.
I want this! I want all of it.
Shocked by the fierceness of her desire, she swallowed hard. Tensing. When he looked a question at her, she grabbed his hair in her tight fist and dragged his head down so she could kiss his lips. Beyond caring, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, searching for his tongue. It greeted her and danced, until the force of his desire drove her back, so he could invade her mouth. She was losing any sense of what was hers and what was his. They were like one, moving, undulating being.
His hand clamped over her core again, pressing fingers into her, deep, hard. She arched into them, wanting more. His palm ground against her so she moaned and whimpered, shifting so he could press harder.
Then his hand was gone and his body was over hers, pressing into the curve of his wide pelvis. It felt so right, it was shocking.
‘You sure?’ he said huskily, holding back with what seemed impossible control. Every muscle was hard, like burning stone. She nodded, afraid her voice wouldn’t work. Then she rose up and kissed him again.
And he used his hand to guide his length into her bod
y. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t fit. She was tight but not dry. With infinite patience, Braxus withdrew and then pushed in a little more. With each short thrust he seemed to move further and further into her. Then there was a sharp pain and she cried out.
He froze, suspended above her as the reality of what he’d just done reached him.
‘A virgin?...But how…’ And then she saw the realisation cross his face. His expression hardened until it was terrifying. Her body stiffened with fear. Did he think she lied to him? Or worse, was he disgusted that she’d been taken in the way he had.
‘The fucking bastard… he hurt you that way?’ His voice was so rough it was little more than a guttural croak.
‘Do…don’t bring him here. Please. I don’t want to think about that… Not now.’
And she saw him force his face to relax. He leaned in and kissed her, so tenderly, it made her want to weep. Then she felt his arousal harden inside her again, and he began to gently thrust into her, each movement a claim.
I love him! How can I love him? I’ve only known him a week. He was my enemy. He’s a killer for hire. But every rational justification was wasted as her body began to relax and respond. It didn’t matter how long she’d known him. It didn’t matter what he was. She loved him.
Something was stirring deep inside her, and she moved to reach for it. His fingers came between their bodies and touched her. Suddenly, white hot fire flamed out from that place and washed through her. She arched her back and cried out as he rode her harder and faster, his fingers still doing something to her she didn’t understand. But the explosion happened again. And this time there was an answering one, deep inside. As the tears poured from her eyes she felt him shudder and groan above her, as if in agony, as something hot poured into her, sending her over the edge yet again.