His fingers stilled, and he turned his head to look into her face.
“No regrets?” He asked, his tone soft, as his gaze took in the contented look on her face.
He saw a flush of colour stain her cheeks, before she shook her head, a small smile playing around her kiss ravaged lips. “No regrets.”
It was all he needed to hear; before he wrapped his arms around her once more. After a few more minutes of companionable silence, Livia looked up at his face, half hidden by the shadows of the night. “I will need to get back to the cave soon. The baby,” she explained when he frowned down at her.
“Now?” Metellus asked, his arms tightening around her in a possessive gesture, before they slid around to cup the fullness of her breasts. He smiled when he heard her gasp, her body arching towards him once again.
“No…not now. Later.”
Her words were all Metellus wanted to hear, and he pulled her up onto his chest, her legs straddling his body as she leant over him.
“Your turn now. Make love to me, Livia.”
“H…how?” She asked, her voice hesitant.
“Don’t worry. I'll show you,” he said, smiling up at her, his hands spanning the slimness of her waist before he lifted her hips and lowered her down onto his erect body…
Livia felt herself taking him inside – fully. “Oh!” She whispered, as she found the rhythm once more, smiling as she heard Metellus moan her name time and time again.
She lost all sense of time, and place, as she rocked her body in response to his encouragement, his large hands gripping her hips, lifting her up and down with a strength that both frightened and overwhelmed her. She became lost in a maelstrom of sensations. Heat, friction, lust, longing, all merged into one, leaving her glistening with sweat, trembling with passion, as she took both her pleasure, and his, to the peak.
And when she came, she cried out, felt herself convulse around him, her body milking him dry once again, aware in the dim recesses of her brain, of his shout of exaltation, as she felt his body pulse, bucking underneath her, as he once again climaxed deep inside her.
How long she remained lying on top of his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat she didn't know, but somehow it felt so right to lay there. Contentment overwhelmed her as Metellus stroked his hands through the long length of her hair. His movements were rhythmic, soothing, and so gentle she felt her eyes close, as a feeling of utter exhaustion and contentment came over her in a wave.
Livia woke slowly, the hazy dream she had been having still floating in her mind. She fought to hold onto to it, but it faded to be replaced by the slight noise of someone breathing. Lifting herself up onto one elbow she turned and smiled when she saw that the soft noise was coming from the sleeping baby.
Elisha was still asleep, her fists curled about her temples in what was becoming her preferred way of sleeping, as her tiny chest rose and fell with short shallow breaths. Happy that she was fine, Livia lay back down on the straw mattress, staring with sightless eyes up at the rock hewn roof of the cave, wondering how she had got there. The last thing she remembered was being outside in Metellus's arms-
Metellus! She shot up straight, her hand holding onto the woollen cloak she used as a blanket, making sure it covered her breasts. It was, she thought with a wry smile, a rather inappropriate gesture of modesty considering what had happened last night! And one that was futile anyway she realised, when she saw she was alone in the cave with only the baby for company.
Falling back onto the pallet with a loud sigh, she brought her hand up to cover her eyes as mortification hit her. Perhaps it had all been a dream? Perhaps she imagined last night?
“No,” she whispered to herself. Not if the slight soreness between her thighs was anything to go by! Her mouth twisted, and she lifted a finger to her mouth, tracing the fullness of her kiss ravaged lips.
Oh no. She had definitely not imagined what had happened last night, and a small smile flitted across her lips. Last night had been magical, never to be forgotten. Nothing could ever wipe out the memory of Metellus’s lovemaking.
She had resigned herself to a future which would have involved making love to a husband whom she loathed. It would have been something she would have had to endure. Hated even.
But now? Now it was different. Metellus had shown her that lovemaking could be a wonderful, joyful, liberating experience. And one she wanted to enjoy time and time again.
She had loved the way his body had mated with hers. Loved the spontaneous response her body had made when he’d touched her, kissed her, caressed her. Loved every single moment she had spent in his arms. Loved-
She stiffened as she realised what she was thinking. What she was confessing to herself. Had she fallen in love with Metellus?
“No!” she moaned. “I can’t be.” She couldn’t possibly be in love with him. Could she? Just because she had shared one glorious night in his arms, didn’t mean she was in love with him. She closed her eyes in anguish as the truth slammed into her. She was in love with him. You fell in love with him from the moment you saw him aboard the ship, her mind tormented her. Livia shivered. She had been attracted to him, drawn to his sheer masculinity from the first instant she’d seen him. And you fell more and more in love with him every time he kissed you, looked at you, touched you, caressed you…
She knew she wasn’t the sort of woman who gave herself to a man without feeling something for him. She had morals. Morals that had been drummed into her by her father and Flavius.
And, of course, there had been no denying the attraction which had flowed between them both more or less from the outset. Even with her limited experience with what went on between a man and a woman, she had known with a woman’s intuition that he’d wanted her. Hadn’t he kissed her, and told her often enough?
But what did it all mean now? Now that they had made love? She very much doubted they had a future together. She was supposed to be marrying Pullus after all. And there was also the huge obstacle of her family. Metellus hated her father, and brother, with a passion bordering on the irrational.
She gasped out loud. Last night! Had she whispered of her love to him? Told him she loved him, just as she fell asleep in his arms?
If she were honest with herself she couldn't remember what she’d said to him, it had all been a blur at the end. A blur of passion, and the delicious aftermath that followed their lovemaking.
Metellus had been both a gentle and forceful lover. Gentle when he'd realised she had been a virgin, but then forceful, demanding her response, taking her higher and higher to the realms of delight she'd never thought she would experience. She couldn't have asked for a more powerful, considerate lover.
A slight noise at the entrance to the cave jolted her out of her reverie. And, just as if she had conjured him up like some sorcerer, Metellus appeared, his tall frame silhouetted in the entrance of the cave. Livia rose from the bed, using the cloak to shield her nakedness. For a long moment they just stared at each other, until he broke the tension by walking up to her, his fingers caressing the smoothness of her cheek, the movements slow, rhythmic, until Livia felt herself relax and swayed towards him.
He leaned down and kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss, which made her want to cry for some reason. His hand cupped the back of her head, cradling her as his lips sought out the sweet nectar of her mouth. But the spell was broken when he ended the kiss, his hand falling away as if he had somehow forced himself to break away from her.
He stared down at her, “How do you fare?” His voice was husky and it stroked her senses like a silken caress.
The words caused Livia's stomach to plummet, and her heart to accelerate, but although he had spoken the words in a soft tone, she saw the hardness in his eyes as he watched her with an intensity that was frightening. She went on the defensive, and lifted her chin, looking him square in the face, “I am fine. Thank you. How do you fare?”
Metellus’s lips quirked upwards in a slight smile at her question, but he di
dn't answer her, instead he stated in an abrupt tone, “You were a virgin. I hadn't expected you to be.”
“Yes. Yes, I was. But it doesn't matter-”
“Of course it matters, Livia!” He said interrupting her, a frown on his face as he raked a hand through his hair in obvious exasperation. His eyes bored into hers, taking in every expression, every nuance flitting across her face.
Livia said nothing, for in truth there was nothing to say. She heard him sigh, watched as his hands dropped to his sides, and his face become a bland mask as he reigned in his temper.
And then, in a flat hard tone, he asked, “Can you explain to me why you were still a virgin? Especially, when all the gossips of Rome crowed about the fact that Faustus Grattus Galvus died a happy man on his wedding night, in the arms of his much younger wife - you!”
CHAPTER 10
An ugly silence fell between them, as Livia assimilated his words, and a lance of betrayal speared right through her. The fact he’d known about her past, and hadn’t mentioned it, hurt more than she thought possible.
But she refused to be beaten, and stood her ground, resolute, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance, and stubborn pride, as she met his watchful gaze.
Over the years she had grown a thick skin. She’d had to. After the disaster of her first marriage, and the ridicule she’d encountered, she’d had no choice but to return to her father’s villa. And then, she’d had to spend the next few years having to endure both her father’s, and her half-brother’s, displeasure at being back there. She had brought shame on her family, and all because her husband – her very much older husband – had had the misfortune of dropping dead on their wedding night!
“It is true as you say” she said, eventually, “My husband did die on our wedding night. But not, as you now, because I had sex with him!”
She lifted her head in a gesture of defiance. A gesture which made her feel somewhat better when she saw his eyes widen in surprise, and which gave her the confidence to carry on.
“I was married at fifteen. A marriage of convenience, a joining of the Drusii and the Gratii, purely for the advancement of my father's standing in the Senate. I was given no choice in the matter, no matter how much I protested at the time, and-” her voice faltered for a moment before she carried on, “And…and when my husband of one day died, instead of being a rich widow, I found myself without one sesterce to my name. The powerful union my father had wanted, craved, had been nothing but a sham. Galvus had no money, and I ended up back at my father’s villa, to the shame of my family and the amusement of all Rome. As you well know.”
She saw him frown at her words, but before he could say anything, she got in first, “Last night I chose to take you to my bed. It was my decision. I wanted it. I wanted you. Just as you wanted me.”
A long silence met her words, until Metellus asked, “And what now? What will happen when Pullus realises you are no longer a virgin?”
“It doesn't matter. I’ve already told you that I intend to return to Rome. I won’t marry Pullus. I-”
“Of course it matters, Livia.” He interrupted, his words harsh, an indication of the anger he was holding onto.
Livia said nothing, just watched as he once again raked a hand through his hair in frustration.
“It matters a lot. It is obvious you were some sort of prize to be given to Sextus Calpurnius Pullus in marriage. I know of his reputation so to speak. He has debauched tastes. Tastes which run to virgins so I believe. I presume Pullus knew you to be a virgin?”
Heat flared in her face before another long silence fell between them until Livia realised he was still waiting for an answer. She looked him full in the face, and with a dignity she was desperately trying to hold onto, replied, “No, he didn't know.”
“He didn't know?” Metellus scoffed, “Somehow I don't quite believe you. I think your brother knew you to be a virgin and “sold” you to Pullus-”
“No!” She burst out, anger making her colour rise, “Flavius wouldn’t-” She stopped speaking, and turned away, her mind whirling. She was a fool. Of course Flavius would do such a thing! He’d done nothing but manoeuvre and manipulate people and situations all of his adult life.
“Knowing of your brother’s reputation and how ruthless he is, I think he did,” Metellus said, cutting into her troubled thoughts. “What did he do when you returned to your father’s villa after Galvus’s death? Did he question you about your wedding night?”
Livia flinched at his cutting remark. He was right of course. Flavius had been furious to say the least. Not only had he been misled as to Galvus’s actual wealth, but he’d had to endure, along with Livia, the snide gossip about how she had effectively rode her husband to death. For days they had been talked and laughed about throughout Rome; until Flavius had had enough and he’d demanded to know exactly what had occurred in the bedroom on her wedding night. When Livia had refused to tell him, Flavius has threatened to have her physically examined to ascertain if she still had her virginity.
Livia knew without a single doubt that Flavius would do as he threatened; and not wanting to be put through the indignity of a physical examination she had, in the end, admitted to him that nothing had occurred on her wedding night, and that she still remained a virgin.
Only four people had known the truth. Flavius and her father, and Livia and Portia. Livia had told her friend what had really happened on her wedding night, and Portia being the true friend she was, had sworn she would keep her secret. In truth, all four of them were sensible enough not to reveal the truth to anyone else. The Roman elite had made up their minds as to what they believed had happened between her and her older husband. To try and dissuade them would have been a futile exercise, and Flavius obviously saw the worth in keeping quiet about what had happened until such times as he could tout Livia’s virginity and await another “bargain” to be struck with some other influential man of rank.
Realising Metellus was still waiting for an answer, Livia turned and faced him. “Yes,” she stated with quiet dignity, “Yes, he did know.”
Metellus’s eyes narrowed, before he asked, “So why did you give it to me?”
The question was forced out of tight lips, and Livia saw a flash of anger light up his eyes.
Livia stiffened. What should she say? The truth? Lies? Truth won out. She lifted her chin in defiance, “You treated me like a woman, not a chattel like my father did, and brother does.” She also wanted to say she’d never met a man who had stirred her to passion so much, that she yearned for his touch, his body…but she kept that to herself.
“I’m not so sure,” Metellus drawled, after a long heartbeat of silence greeted her words. Then, with a speed which shocked her, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him, until his face was pressed so close to hers, she felt the warmth of his breath on her face, saw the anger flashing in the dark depths of his icy grey eyes.
“Was it your intention all along to lose your virginity to me? To be sullied so Pullus wouldn’t want you anymore, because you were no longer a virgin? Is that the real truth, Livia?”
This time his voice held contempt, as well as anger, and Livia’s face flushed. Not in embarrassment this time, but in anger. She managed to pull her hand free from his and step backwards, her hands fisting on her hips in indignation, “Sullied! How dare you. In case you have forgotten, you seduced me!”
She saw his jaw tighten at her words, as a myriad of expressions crossed his face before he bit out, “But you didn’t stop me though, did you?”
An ugly silence filled the cave as they stared at each other, his face an inscrutable mask as he waited for a response. When one wasn’t forthcoming he narrowed his eyes, and said in a deadly voice, “Oh, and another thing, did you speak false last night when said you loved me?”
Livia gasped. So she had whispered the words out loud last night. Hades! She closed her eyes in mortification. How could she have been so stupid? To lay bare her emotions to a man who did
n’t want, or care, for her.
“Talk of love is foolish, Livia,” Metellus said, before she could formulate a response.
His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion whatsoever, and it acted like a splash of icy water. She flinched, as if he had delivered her a body blow, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw him watching her with a cold hard look on his face.
“But-”
Metellus’s hand slashed through the air, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “No. You listen to me, Livia,” he ground out. “Do not call what happened between us last night ‘love’. Call it infatuation. Call it lust. Call it sex. But never call it ‘love’”.
The bluntness of his words cut through her like a whip searing flesh, and she turned away from him, not wanting to see the derision on his face anymore.
“Nothing can come of it. Nothing. Do you understand?”
The flatness of his question pierced Livia to the bone. He couldn’t have made his intentions clear enough. She meant nothing to him. She had just been convenient, that was all. A body to be used for sex. But even as she tried to acknowledge what he was saying, a part of her refused to believe it.
They had made love because both of them had wanted it. It hadn’t been one sided. And it had felt right – more than right. They had both been caught up in the intensity of their feelings for each other. And no matter how much he denied it – he had wanted her. Desperately.
Pride made her turn around to face him once more. She wasn’t going to just let what they shared last night slip through her hands like grains of sand. She had made love to him because it had felt right at the time. And it still did. She did love him. It was just that he didn’t want to accept it. “But…but what we shared last-”
“It was just sex, Livia,” he said, frustration evident in every line of his body, his brow furrowed as he cut off her halting words. “Emotions getting the better of both of us. The loneliness of being together on an island, miles from anywhere, constantly thrown together. You are beautiful, there is no denying that. It - we – just happened. Accept it.”
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