by S. C. Daiko
I give him kiss for kiss. Nothing else seems to matter. My head is spinning and his groan, low and deep, reverberates over the drumming in my ears. One of his hands fists my hair and the other grips my chin. My mouth widens for him as he drives deeper.
He pulls away and our panting breaths touch while he traces his fingers across my trembling lips. ‘You are delicious. I want to savour every part of you.’ He kisses the curve of my jaw, then slips his finger into my mouth. I curl my tongue around it and suck. ‘Oh, Theodora, that’s good,’ he whispers, slipping in another finger. ‘Show me how warm and wet your mouth can be.’
His hips tilt against me. ‘You understand what I want, don’t you?’
I answer him with a slow swath of my tongue along the length of his fingers. His mouth, so close, covers mine in a deep, breath-taking kiss. There’s an intense throbbing between my thighs. My knees tremble. I’m about to collapse at his feet, but he breaks the kiss, takes my hand and draws it between us. ‘You think you can get your pretty mouth around this, my sweet?’
I let out a gasp as he presses my fingers to his erection. His cock is hard and heavy, and oh so thick. Thicker than any I’ve encountered before. Saliva fills my mouth.
His jaw tightens. ‘Do you want it?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Yes, please, sir.’
His hand is back in my hair. ‘Alas, I will not oblige you.’
‘What?’ I startle. ‘But I. . . But I want to. . .’
‘You want?’ His brows lift. ‘My dear Theodora, we are not here for what you want. We are here for what I want.’
‘But you spoke of knowing my desires. . .’
The softest, most beautiful smile curves his lips. ‘Yes, I did.’ He brushes his mouth against mine. ‘That’s quite a conundrum, isn’t it?’
I gaze into his handsome face and my nipples tingle. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘That’s all right. You will,’ he murmurs gently. ‘Please stand up.’
Bewildered, I get to my feet. He steps close. I tip up my mouth for his kiss. But no kiss comes. Instead, he grabs the hem of my tunic and pulls upwards, lifting it over my head. Something flickers in his hand. A knife. With a deft movement, he cuts my undergarment and I’m suddenly naked before him.
He muffles my startled gasp with a soothing kiss. So soft, so gentle, in complete contradiction to what he’s just done, and yet so right. I let out a whimper and my arms go around him, crushing his erection between us.
Justinian stands back to look at me. His fine-looking face is tense with desire, and his green eyes smoulder. ‘Touch yourself,’ he orders.
Blood rises to my cheeks. What? No! Never have I done that in front of a man. ‘But… but… but I can’t.’
‘You must, Theodora.’
I squeeze my eyes shut. Why am I not indignant? All I can feel is the heat between my thighs. Still I cannot move.
‘Is it so difficult for you?’
I open my eyes and nod. This shouldn’t be so enticing. I’m naked, vulnerable to this man who seeks to control me when I’ve resolved never to let a man do that to me again, and, quite frankly, I feel embarrassed. Can I do this? ‘It’s really difficult, sir.’
A low moan rumbles up from his throat, and his beautiful gaze locks onto mine. My breath catches.
‘Ah, my sweet Theo, I love the struggle in your eyes. It makes your ultimate capitulation more meaningful. I cherish every emotion you feel. Really I do. But eventually…’ he lays a gentle kiss on my brow…‘your struggle must always be toward obedience. Now, move your hands.’
My clit throbs with a deep, almost painful craving and a burning desire for release. Every word Justinian utters enflames me, makes me want him. What’s wrong with me? And why must I obey? Why do I actually want to obey?
I’m at war with myself, the battle heightening my excitement. I look down at my hands again and, with great effort, force my arms to move. My muscles stiff and rigid with tension, I rub my fingers against my slick folds.
‘There,’ he whispers. ‘That’s perfect.’
His praise, so quietly spoken, calms me. Then my eyes sting. What power does he wield over me? I lower my head, ashamed. Why have I succumbed so easily?
‘No, Theodora. Hide nothing from me.’
Lifting my chin, he presses a soft kiss to my lips. ‘Don’t you see? I need to see your every response. Each lovely reaction. It’s like a gift from you to me, for I know how much it has cost you.’
He’s right. It has cost me dear. So, so dear. His warm hands move up my arms in a soft caress that tingles through my breasts. He strokes his fingers along the tops of my shoulders, then traces them up the sides of my neck to my jaw, tilting it up to him. Then he walks slowly behind me, curving his fingers over my bare buttocks and squeezing gently. ‘I want all of you, every bit of you, for myself.’
He kisses the pulse behind my ear. ‘Do you know why I want this, my sweet Theo?’ He wraps his arms around me and presses his body against my back. ‘Do you?’
I lean against him as his fingers reach down to slide over my mound. His erection is hard and strong against my arse. ‘Tell me, Theodora.’ His fingers slip lower and my clit throbs. ‘Tell me, and I’ll touch you as you long to be touched.’
A soft, mewling sound escapes my throat and my hips buck. ‘Because it is what I want. It is what I desire.’ And it is. Against all reason, it is.
‘Yes,’ he breathes into my ear. ‘And what is it you desire? What do you long for, Theodora? Tell me the secret I already know. Say it out loud.’
My hips twist. Say the words! Just say the words. But what words? ‘I long to feel more,’ I murmur. ‘I… I long to…to…’
‘Surrender.’ Justinian whispers the word into my ear. It takes on a life of its own, growing and echoing in my head. He comes around to face me. ‘The word is surrender,’ he says firmly.
That’s exactly the word. I long for it, but will not give it easily. How can I after what happened two years ago with Hecebolus? ‘Yes,’ I breathe.
‘Say it!’
‘Surrender.’ My voice shakes. ‘I long to surrender.’
His arms sweep around me, his kisses deep and hungry. I taste him and cling to him. His hands move down my body and my heart leaps. At last. His finger. Stroking my quim. He pulls his mouth from mine. ‘Your bud is so full, and your cunt is so wet. So fucking wet.’ He holds me tightly around my waist. Once, twice, a third time he slides his fingers over my sodden folds, stroking me into a frenzy. Tight, firm circles around my clit. Oh, sweet Jesus! Hot pleasure pulses through me. My fingers curl in the short hair at his nape. I catch my lip with my teeth.
‘Break for me, Theodora!’ The thick column of his cock thrusts against me and his jaw clenches as I start to shudder. ‘There, my sweet Theo. Break for me – break.’
‘Yes,’ I pant. ‘Yes.’ My chest heaves and my sheath clenches. Oh, dear Lord! Justinian’s body presses against me. His fingers stroke me. Everything draws up tight inside. My muscles flex. I gasp for air. And then I break. On a sharp cry, my head falls back and I jerk against the press of his fingers, bursting into a thousand tiny fragments. I collapse against him and he holds me until my breathing slows. Then, bending, he scoops me up. I lay my head against his shoulder as he carries me to my room.
‘Thank you, sir.’ He lays me against my pillows and braces his hands on either side of me. ‘You’re welcome, Theodora.’ His jaw is tight, but his voice is soft. He bends to kiss me and I curl my arms around him. My heart pounds as he bites down on my lower lip and sucks it. Then, quickly as it began, it ends. He pulls away. I roll onto my side and watch him cross the room. How powerfully he walks. ‘Sleep well, Theo,’ he says, opening the door. ‘You have pleased me greatly.’
I close my eyes. Shit! What have I got myself into? The one time in the past I surrendered control like that was almost my undoing. It’s usually been me in charge. Men paid me to pleasure them, and any pleasure I got from it was arbitrary, with the exception o
f Gaius, my only love. Love? All an act for me since then. What I experienced this evening, though, was extraordinary. Justinian battered down my defences with the force of his personality and sensuality. I hug myself as tiredness washes over me. Sleep. That’s what I need. I’ll worry about what happens next tomorrow.
***
Hilda helps me dress and leads me to the breakfast room. My hair is loose, still damp from my morning bath. No appearance from Justinian. Am I disappointed? I shrug to myself. Perhaps some time away from him is not a bad thing. In the light of day, my relinquishing control to him last night seems hasty. And yet… And yet…
Through the open window the sun is shining on a garden where a fountain plays beneath a walnut tree and sparrows chirp in the dust. In front of me, a golden table is set with white bread, sesame cakes, goats’ milk, and fresh figs. I help myself to the fruit, munching it with small bites. It’s perfectly ripe, sweet and delicious. I reach for a cup and Hilda jumps to fill it. The milk is rich, just the right temperature. I finish my fig and rinse my fingers in a silver basin of water with rose petals floating on the surface, then help myself to a sesame cake.
Movement at the door. ‘Comito, what are you doing here?’
One of the Palace guards, not wart-face thank goodness, ushers her into the room. ‘Theo, I could ask the same of you.’ My sister removes her stola and tosses it onto the couch. She sits next to me. ‘I was worried when you didn’t come home yesterday. Then a messenger came to fetch your things. Tell me, what’s going on? You’re home five minutes and now you’re ensconced in the Palace.’
Comito is older than me by two years. Her milky white skin, chestnut-coloured hair and bright blue eyes, as well as her fabulous singing voice and voluptuous figure, made her a star of the theatre when I was still a skinny tone-deaf chorus girl and acrobat. Comito stopped “working” to move in with her senator shortly before I left for North Africa. She’s become the pampered darling of doting Marcus. Comito and I have never been particularly close, so why is she here now? Curiosity, I suppose.
An idea occurs to me. ‘I’m helping Justinian organise his consular celebrations. I was thinking you might like to be part of the show. Along with some of the old crowd. Would you?’
She practically preens. ‘That’s if Marcus doesn’t mind.’
‘Of course he won’t. It will be to honour the new Consul, who might well be the next Emperor.’
Comito gives me a look. ‘What’s he like? I mean, are the rumours about him true? They say he never sleeps and that he stalks the Palace corridors at night with his head tucked under his arm.’
I laugh. ‘Stuff and nonsense. He’s clever, and charming, and I like him.’ And I do, it’s true. I keep the reference to “unusual tastes” to myself.
‘You could do worse,’ she says. ‘Unless he prefers men, of course.’
She’s fishing, but I say nothing.
Sis stays until she has finished all the sesame cakes and we’ve talked mostly about her and her new wardrobe. ‘Marcus’ grain ship came in and he sold the lot. He’s bought me masses of new silk dresses and stolas. Oh, and pearls. Maybe you should get Justinian to do the same.’
Still I say nothing. I haven’t fully decided if I’ll go along with his plans for me, so I’m not sure if I’ll be here long enough for him to do anything of the sort.
IV
Justinian is marching along the city walls, part of his daily exercise routine. A troop of Excubitors follows him as he strides past the massive coiled chain that can be stretched across the Golden Horn to prevent barbarian ships from invading, past Constantine’s red column with the nail from Christ’s cross in its crown and priceless artefacts buried underneath, and past the white vault of the Milion, the starting point for measuring all distances to the cities of the Empire. He turns around and heads back to the Palace.
He can’t get Theodora out of his head. Last night he had to use every bit of his self-control. When he caressed her beautiful buttocks, his palms twitched to bring them to a rosy glow. Lord, God Almighty! His cock pulses as he thinks about her. I’ll need to create such desire in her that she’ll be unable to resist. He remembers his motto: this WILL happen because I WANT it to happen. Except it’s gone beyond that. He NEEDS it to happen. There’s something about her. Something fundamental. Something that speaks to his soul.
Back in the Hormisdas Palace, he sends Narses to bring her to his study. A water clock tells the hour, nearly midday, and a table large as a bed droops under towers of scrolls and codices. Some of the open parchments reveal architectural schematics of great domed churches, aqueducts and triumphal arches. His projects for when he becomes Emperor.
Theodora arrives, dressed in a plain light blue tunic that looks as if it’s seen better days. I must remember to order some new clothes for her. He smiles and gestures to the couch in front of the fireplace. She ignores it and picks up one of the documents. ‘What are these?’
‘Ideas. Dreams.’ He pauses. ‘I’d like to leave my imprint on the City one day.’
She turns the paper closest to her, a cruciform church with five domes. ‘The Church of the Holy Apostles?’
‘I plan to tear it down. Save the crypts, of course, but replace the building with something worthy of its stature.’
‘And this one?’ It’s another drawing, a building with a colossal dome. ‘Wouldn’t something so massive collapse under its own weight?’
He shrugs. ‘Far better to dare monumental things and fail monumentally than to never dare at all, eh?’
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
God, I want her. He tears his gaze away, leads her to the couch and sits next to her. ‘So, Theodora. Have you thought about how to involve the City in my celebrations?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Despite your grand status, both you and your uncle are still foreigners to those who were born in Constantinople.’
Ah, she knows about my origins.
‘That’s why I want to bring the Empire together, so that no Roman will ever feel a foreigner, no matter what part of the Empire they were born in.’
‘Be that as it may you haven’t done it yet. You need to make the people feel that you are one of them. On their side.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘Firstly, give everyone the day off. Even slaves should have a break from their labours.’
‘As in the glory days of Rome. I like your idea.’ She’s studying his face. Can she feel the tug between us? He folds his arms. ‘What else do you recommend?’
‘A public procession followed by a re-consecration of the City as the capitol of the Empire. That way, the people will be reminded of its importance.’
‘Excellent.’
‘There must be feasting.’
‘Of course.’
‘And games in the Hippodrome.’
‘Already sorted.’
‘And I think we should have a public dance. The whole City will join in.’
‘Oh? How do you propose to organise that?’
‘My old friends from the theatre can lead it. The people will love it. You’ll see.’
‘I’m sure. I have a feeling that, between us, we shall make a great partnership, Theodora.’ The gears of the water clock click towards lunchtime. Is she hungry? He, himself, is ravenous, but not for food. He clears his throat. ‘Last night, you pleased me greatly. Thank you.’
Is that a flicker of pride in her eyes? The order he gave her, to touch herself against her will, was only small, but it was a beginning. ‘And if I am pleased, then you shall be pleased.’
A frown creases her brow.
‘Do you understand my reasoning?’ he asks.
‘I think so.’
He strokes her cheek and her eyes lock with his. ‘Everything I do, including denying you, will be for your benefit. I will exert my authority over you. But that authority exists to help you, and you must remember that when surrendering becomes difficult.’
&n
bsp; Indecision and longing seem to be at war in her expression.
‘Tell me what you’re thinking, Theodora.’
‘When I’m with you, I want to surrender.’
‘Yes?’
‘But when I’m away from you, I feel uncertain. I feel as if I should resent your control over me, fear it even.’
‘And how do you feel now?’
‘Like I would do almost anything to win your touch. At the same time, I’m tortured. My mind is fighting with my body.’ She sighs. ‘Yet, I feel as if I might die if you don’t pleasure me.’
‘Ah. You must endure the wait and please me first. Hold out your hands.’
He reaches under the couch for the cord he stashed earlier, and ties it around her wrists. Her eyes widen, but she says nothing. Pulling up his tunic, he loosens his undergarment. Freed from its confines, his prick swells easily to its full size. He works it in his hand. Heavy, reddened and veined.
She stares at it and licks her lips. Admiration glows in her eyes. ‘It’s so thick.’
His blood rushes and liquid coats the head. ‘Lick it.’
Theodora blinks, once.
‘Do it, my sweet,’ he orders softly.
She lowers her gaze, bends, and sticking out her pink tongue, laps at the rivulet of fluid. It’s as if she’s waited a long time to taste a great delicacy as she looks up at him with shining, hungry eyes. He sucks in a breath as another spill wells and drips down his shaft. ‘Lick it all.’
A long, soft swipe of her tongue against his swollen flesh, and more fluid seeps from him. She laps without pause. She’s like a thirsty cat at a bowl of cream. ‘That’s good, Theo. Now suck it from the top.’
She slips her luscious lips over the enflamed head of his prick. His blood drums in his ears; he groans and jerks back. Grabbing the base, he squeezes it, hard, and thrusts his hips forward again. ‘Open!’
Taking him into her warm mouth, she begins suckling greedily. ‘No,’ he gasps, ‘be still!’ He grunts and squeezes harder. She freezes, her lips snug around his knob. Fuck! Too late. His seed is rolling up his shaft. A ragged moan, and he ejaculates a single, delightful spurt into her mouth. She flinches in surprise, but doesn’t pull away. He shakes his cock and waits. Nothing more. Good, he’s held back the rest. Drawing deep breaths, he stares down at Theodora. Her eyes are closed, but she looks beautiful. So fucking beautiful with the head of his cock in her lovely mouth. He touches her throat. ‘Swallow.’