Without speaking, she handed him the wooden plates and spoons she’d bought out of the cave with her, and once the rabbit was cooked Metellus had sliced some of the meat off for her and with a murmured word of thanks they had eaten in silence.
But Livia took his silence as being a good sign; a sign that he wasn’t going to try and persuade her to take the baby back to the fort. It was only when the meal had finished, and Livia had tidied everything away that she had plucked up the courage to speak to him. “I can move the baby off your pallet if you like. She…she can sleep with me. I know how cold it can be outside.”
Metellus had looked up from where he was still sitting by the fire, and with the flames flickering over him she saw his eyes narrow as he stared up at her, his body unnaturally still. Then his mouth had curved in a sensuous smile before he drawled, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you, Livia?”
They had stared at each other for a long moment, until Livia had let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “I…I suppose not,” she whispered. And with that she had turned and fled back into the cave, as if Cerberus, the dog of the Underworld, were chasing her.
Now as she lay in the darkness, thinking about what had happened earlier, she couldn’t stop the groan that escaped as heat pooled in the lower portion of her belly. What on earth had she been thinking? She had practically begged him to come back into the cave with her; her words an invitation to make love to her.
With a sudden restlessness, Livia swung her legs over the side of the wooden pallet and sat on the edge of the bed. Her heart was racing, as if she had run up a steep hill. She could hear Elisha’s soft breathing, but it wasn’t enough to calm her. She felt a huge wave of frustration wash over her and unwilling to get back into the bed she rose.
Feeling for her cloak, which she had draped over the bottom of the bed earlier, she wrapped it around her shoulders and walked to the entrance of the cave to get some much needed fresh air. There was a chill to the night air, but it was just what she needed to clear away her disturbed thoughts.
“Can’t sleep?”
Metellus’s words, from the darkness beyond, made Livia start in fright, and she gasped, “You made me jump!”
Metellus came forward, his body silhouetted by the brightness of the full moon, and a light coming from an oil lamp which illuminated the entrance to the cave. “So I see. Sorry.”
She could tell by the lightness of his voice he was far from sorry, and Livia walked towards him. “Couldn’t you sleep either?”
“No. I was thinking about the baby. I went to the fort after our meal and I spoke to Ayla.”
“Oh!” Livia said, surprised, but pleased, he had done so. “How…how was she?”
“Quite philosophical really, considering the enormity of what she has done. She seems convinced you will do your best for her.”
“Yes. Yes I will. I made a promise, and I intend to honour it.”
“You are not what I expected you know?” Metellus said, after a small silence had fallen between them.
Her breath caught, at the gentle tone she heard in his voice, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest when he came closer to her. She could see a brooding expression on his face as he looked down at her. “Not what I expected at all.”
Livia didn’t have to ask what he meant. He was referring to her being the spoilt daughter of one of Rome’s prominent families. The insult he had hurled at her, when they had first been shipwrecked, and he’d found out who she was.
But now the words he had just spoken caused heat to pool in the pit of her stomach, and she watched mesmerised as his fingers cupped the delicate skin of her jaw, lifting her face up to his. Grey eyes, darkened by the intensity of his emotions, stared down into hers, the harsh lines of his face looked as if they had been carved out by the hard work he’d endured all his life. But even though he lived a hard life, he was also ruggedly handsome. And no more so when his mouth kicked up in a small smile as he looked down at her, before his mouth dipped down towards hers.
“I want you. Do you want me, Livia?” His voice was husky, as she felt the warmth of his breath against her lips.
“Yes.” She whispered, unable to control a shiver, when his finger trailed down the delicate line of her neck. It came to rest against the pulse which beat wildly at the base of her throat. Her one word answer was enough, as she heard Metellus hiss, before he removed his hand and stepped forward.
He took both her hands in his, pulling her closer, but not so close that she was touching him. Livia felt a wave of desire come over her, and she heard herself gasp. He was so very, very dangerous, she thought, like a lion stalking its prey, and she watched mesmerised, as he smiled at her reaction. It was as if he knew exactly what she was feeling, what she wanted. She felt pure longing come over her as she acknowledged she wanted him with a passion that threatened to overwhelm her.
“The baby? Will she awake do you think?”
Livia shook her head, the movement slight, “No I don’t think so…”
“Good.”
She saw the brightness of his teeth as he smiled again, the sharp angles and planes of his face illuminated by the moonlight, before he pulled her towards him, his movements slow, deliberate, until she was engulfed in his strong arms, the slimness of her body moulded to his. He released one of his hands, wrapping it around the nape of her neck, and tugged gently, forcing her to do his will as he rubbed his fingers across the base of her skull, before his hand slipped upwards to sift through the silken length of her unbound hair.
“Beautiful. I’ve longed to do this from the first moment I saw you.”
He seemed to glory in the texture of her hair, running his fingers through the long tendrils, time and time again. Livia couldn’t stop a sigh of longing, and she felt his hand still for a moment when he heard it. It was her signal that she wanted him, and she lifted her face to his, her eyes wide, her lips parted waiting for him to fuse his mouth with hers. He brought his mouth to within touching distance of hers, so close she could feel his warm breath, see the desire flare deep in his eyes.
“Kiss me, Livia. Show me how much you want me.”
His words caused a delicious shiver to slither down her body, prickling her skin, and emboldened by his order she went on tip toes and with an instinctiveness that amazed her, found his mouth. The taste, and scent of him, filled her with longing, musky and warm, and indisputably male, intoxicating her, filling her with a feminine power that was heady, as well as dangerous. And for once in her life she was doing what she wanted. And she wanted him – with a desperation which consumed her.
“Yes!” The word was hissed through his teeth, and no sooner had her mouth found his, the tempo of the kiss changed. This time he took control, and he kissed her again, and again, filling her mouth with his taste. His unique taste. She lifted her own hands and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to her body. This was what she wanted, what she craved. Was it so wicked to lose oneself in the delights of sharing a body with a man she wanted so much? She didn’t think so. It couldn’t be wrong, when it felt so very, very right.
She was vaguely aware of his fingers trailing downwards, until they cupped the fullness of her breasts. Livia arched, felt her nipples harden, and push through the silk of her gown, and she moaned with desire, her breath choppy with excitement. And all the while, he carried on kissing her with total abandonment.
She felt herself being lifted, weightless, carried a short distance from the cave, before he lowered her to the ground, placing her on top of his cloak. The cloak he had been using for his bed.
“Why did you leave me? Leave the cave I mean?” She asked, uncertainty in her voice, as she watched him kneel over her, before he stretched himself alongside her, propping himself up on one elbow as he stared down at her.
“I left the cave because I couldn’t trust myself to be anywhere near you.” The words were whispered, as he spoke them to himself. “And I still can’t,” before he leaned for
ward and kissed her again. His hands skimmed up over her shoulders, pulling her into his body, and by their own volition she felt her own hands push up under their bodies to clasp her arms around his neck. Her hair tumbled down her slim back, and she felt his hand fist in it, exerting pressure so she had no choice but to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to his mouth. His teeth nipped the sensitive skin, and she knew he had left his mark on her.
Her muscles turned languid, like ice melting in a hot sun. Pliant, she moulded to the hardness of his body, and she heard him groan as the softness of her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest.
His mouth moved downwards, until they reached the hardness of her nipples which thrust impudently through the silk of her gown. He suckled them through the thin fabric, and she arched her back, wanting more, so much more.
“Yes,” he whispered, “Yes. I want to make love to you. Now. There’s no going back now, Livia. Do you understand?”
CHAPTER 9
Livia swallowed, as his words registered. “Yes. Yes, I understand,” she gasped. There was no turning back now, but she knew with a certainty this was what she wanted. Needed.
Metellus needed no second invitation, and once again he drew her into his arms, his mouth fusing with the fullness of hers, his tongue demanding access to the sweet moistness within. His kiss deepened, parting her lips with expert precision to allow his tongue to slide into her mouth, the gesture one of possession; and as the kiss intensified Livia arched upwards, as his hands, no longer idle, stroked and caressed her warm skin through the silk of her gown.
Eventually, Metellus pulled away, and looked at her with such longing it shocked her to the core. Heat blazed from his eyes as she took in the raw emotion stamped on his face. He looked as if he was trying to keep control of his feelings, but was in danger of losing the battle. What would he see on her face she wondered? Her lips swollen by his kisses? Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes shining as bright as a thousand stars?
“You are so beautiful. I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you,” he whispered.
The words were Livia's undoing, and suddenly she felt emboldened. Lifting her hands, she let them slide through his hair until she came to where his hair grew thick at the base of his neck, her fingers sifting through the silkiness of it. Cupping his head, she tried to bring him closer to her, to communicate her need to him, but his body was stiff, unyielding, as if he were doing his utmost to resist her, as if he were giving her one last chance to stop this passion from flaring between them.
But Livia didn’t want one last chance, so she begged, “Please, Metellus. Please.”
Her words had the desired effect, and this time, like a starving man who had stumbled on a feast fit for the gods, he let his emotions take over what rational thoughts he still clung onto. He moved away from her and with quick, jerky movements stripped off his tunic, baring his naked body to her eyes. And what a body she thought, as her hands lifted to smooth over the full expanse of his muscular chest, when he once again laid down next to her.
For several long moments she touched him, her fingers skimming over the wonderful texture of hard muscle, overlain with hot, smooth, skin. He seemed content to let her explore him, and with trembling hands she trailed downward, over the hard ridges of muscle at his abdomen, lower until…
“Later,” he whispered, his hand trapping hers, halting her movements, bringing them down so they lay flat on his blanket. “Now, it’s my turn.”
He leaned over her, lifting up the hem of her gown, pushing it upwards until she had no choice but to lift her hips, allowing him, wanting him, to bare her body to his gaze. It was almost too much to bear, and she moaned in longing, watching as heat exploded in his eyes as he took in the pale nakedness of her body.
She swallowed as a wave of shyness came over her and she tried to cover her nakedness with her hands, but Metellus captured them with one of his hands and lifted them over her head.
“You are too lovely to hide,” he whispered. “Perfection. Never hide yourself from me again, Livia. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She whispered, amazed by the power of longing sweeping over her at his words.
He used his free hand to trail down over her body. His gentle fingers lingered for a moment, on where the vein in the hollow of her neck pulsed frantically, then slid downwards, to the centre of her breastbone, teasing the slopes of her breasts, stroking her flesh back and forth, with feather light touches. The sensations were too much, and she arched off the woollen cloak, her throat making small mewling noises of need. Her movements somehow communicated her need, and his fingers trailed further down, until they met the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs. She felt him sift through the downy hair and her skin grew taut, so blazing hot, she thought she would explode as his fingers teased and tempted her beyond reason.
“Please, Metellus. Please. I…I can't take any more.”
“Hush,” he whispered against her neck, his fingers moving back up her body, until they once again rested near her breasts. This time, his fingers found the rigid peak of her nipple and he twisted it with his thumb and forefinger, making it swell, harden, before he leaned forward and took it into his mouth sucking it, laving it with his tongue, driving her insane with longing.
“I want to be inside you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her turgid nipple. Livia inhaled, incapable of speech, so instead she communicated her need, her desire, by lifting up her hips.
At her unspoken gesture, she heard him grunt, before he fused his mouth with hers once again, his tongue probing deep inside her mouth, mating with hers in a delicious parody of what was to come.
He still held her hands above her head, and using his free hand, he once again smoothed his hand down her body, feeling the smoothness of her skin, glorying in the texture of her breasts, the silkiness of her flat stomach until he found the warmth of her womanhood, his hand cupping her, as she arched against him.
“Soon,” he whispered, as he broke off the kiss lowering his head to the exposed skin of her neck. Eventually he let her hands go, and Livia reached for him, her nails digging into the muscular flesh of his shoulders, wanting to pleasure him with her hands, as he’d pleasured her with his.
His body moved, until it was over hers, and she felt his powerful thighs settle in-between hers, nudging her legs apart so he came to rest against her. He jerked his hips and became primitive man, and she did what his body demanded. With an instinct as old as time she obeyed his silent demand, allowing him entry, relaxing her legs, opening herself for him until he was able to place himself at the apex of her thighs.
Inch, by slow inch, he entered the tight moistness of her body, his teeth pulled back in a grimace as he tried to hold onto his rapidly diminishing restraint. She felt so good, so warm, so tight - so right - it was all he could do to stop himself plunging into her, taking what she offered. But he wanted it to last, he wanted her to experience exactly what he was feeling, to make it the best she had ever had.
But then he stilled. Frozen in place at what he was feeling. He frowned down at her, his brain screaming at him that he must be mistaken. But he wasn’t - his body had definitely come across the barrier which protected her virginity.
He closed his eyes, his head falling back, as he gritted his teeth, fighting for some semblance of control as what he’d discovered sank into his passion filled mind.
Livia Drusus was still a virgin!
“Please, Metellus. Please. Don’t stop.”
Livia’s hoarsely whispered words brought him back to reality. He lowered his head, his gaze meeting hers as he braced his arms on either side of her body, tension humming through him as he remained rigid, forcing his body not to move. He could see the confusion, and hurt, in her eyes and then her impassioned plea was his undoing. She was begging him, giving him permission to carry on.
“Are you sure, Livia? Absolutely sure? Because I’m not sure if I can stop this time,” he said in a low voice, a whisper away from her
ear. His words caused her to shudder, and he felt it go right through her.
“Yes.” She gasped out, and taking him by surprise when she lifted her hips, the movement breaking through the barrier of her virginity as she joined her body with his.
He captured her gasp of pain with his mouth whispering, “The pain will go now. And then there will only be pleasure, I promise you.”
He inched further into the warmness of her flesh, glorying in the feeling of being inside her, being a part of her, and with slow movements he rocked his hips, his body starting the rhythm that was as old as time. He could hear her small gasps of pleasure, pleasure his body was bringing her, and he bent his head, taking an erect nipple into his mouth, suckling, nipping the swollen flesh as her hands tunnelled into his hair, gripping his head hard in the fever of her arousal.
Once he had finished worshipping her breasts, he lifted his head, and kissed her, his mouth plundering and mating with hers causing them both to pant with pleasure as the intensity of what was happening between them pulsed through them.
His body took over, as he lost control, his hips pumping against hers, and he watched as she arched her back in pleasure, felt her tightness close around him like a vice, milking his body, before she gasped out her pleasure as she came apart in his arms such was the intensity of her orgasm. He could feel her whole body shuddering, as her hot tight warmth clutched him deep within her body, and then his mind went blank, as blackness swamped him, his climax so strong he was unaware of anything else at that moment; only the desire to fill her with his seed, to bury himself so far inside her, that he never wanted to be parted from her.
Metellus fell back onto the makeshift bed, his chest heaving with exertion, before he pulled her into his body, her head coming to rest on the hard expanse of his chest. His hand lifted to smooth her sweat slicked hair away from her face, tracing the slenderness of her neck, down to the still turgid peaks of her breasts. He smiled when he felt her shiver, and secretly he relished the amount of power he held over her. A feeling he very much enjoyed – and wanted to experience – again and again.
The Roman's Revenge Page 9