My Spartan Hellion

by Nadia Aidan

  She gasped but he gripped her hips tighter when she moved to pull away. “You will not move,” he ground out, struggling not to impale her on his shaft, even as she clenched and shuddered all around his sensitive flesh.

  She whimpered softly but did not protest as she stilled.

  He gave her more of his length until the head of his cock was fully lodged inside her.

  A groan rumbled out of him, hoarse with his need. “You are so tight, agapetos. So very tight,” he gritted out, holding himself perfectly still until she relaxed around him, every passing moment testing the last vestiges of his restraints.

  The muscles in his arms bulged and he dug his fingers into her hips, willing himself not to plunge into her. Slowly, so achingly slow, he fed her his cock.

  He closed his eyes on a deep, shuddering growl when he finally buried his length to the hilt, his heavy sac pressed against her ass. He didn’t move for several seconds, her rectum stretching to accommodate his cock. Only when he was certain that he could move within her without causing her pain did he begin to push inside her with shallow thrusts. She gasped with each thrust, gentle tremors shaking her as Thanos stroked in and out of her body, his pace unhurried.

  He rocked into her, tunnelling deeper and harder into her virgin anus, and what was left of his restraint began to vanish on the wind.

  A growl escaped his lips when she moved to pull away again.

  “You are not to move,” he rasped, pumping his hips faster, pounding harder.

  “But it hurts, Thanos.”

  Instantly, he reached around her waist to give her the pleasure that would soothe her pain. Cupping her mound, he found her tiny nub. With vigorous strokes, he rubbed it between his fingers until she cried out in pleasure.

  He gritted his teeth, straining against her.

  With one hand still furiously stroking her bud, he grasped her shoulder with the other and began to ream her anus, his strokes quickening. He ached for her to find release, but his impending climax threatened to sweep him away. He battled against the desperate demands of his flesh, wanting her to experience the pleasure of coming with him inside her virgin tunnel.

  But when her tight hole seized around him, he lost his battle.

  “I’m about to spurt.” He did not even recognise his voice as every word came out on a strangled cry and blood rushed to his ears.

  Powering inside her with a flurry of strokes, he could barely breathe when she erupted beneath him, her anus nearly strangling his cock as she climaxed.

  She threw her head back, her long hair whipping across his face. No sound came from her mouth when she stiffened, her body convulsing with pleasure.

  He exploded with her, his entire body trembling.

  “Lamia!” he shouted hoarsely, a wave of sensual heat washing over him, as his cock erupted, his warm seed coating the walls of her rectum.

  Dragging in a breath was akin to swallowing fire, and with harsh pants he lowered his head to her back, falling limply against her, his body draped over hers as they both struggled to catch their breath.

  When finally their panting ceased, he eased out of her, his gut balling with knots when she winced. He could not stomach the thought of having caused her undue pain, and he gently settled her against him, his brow furrowed with concern.

  “I am sorry. I… I lost control—”

  “But I love when you lose control,” she whispered, her eyes warm.

  Easing from his embrace, she stood up, lazily lifting her arms above her as she stretched.

  When creases remained in his brow, she reached out to caress the tiny lines.

  “Do not fret, Thanos. I am fine. And I spoke the truth. I love when you lose control in my arms. I love many things about you.” The last of her words whispered out of Lamia on a hushed sigh, but, as attuned as he was to her, he was certain that he had not mistaken the note of regret in her soft declaration, which gave him pause.

  Leaving the bed, he grabbed a warm towel from a nearby bowl and cleaned the evidence of their lovemaking from their bodies before tossing it aside.

  With her legs crossed, she sat atop the bed, his chamlys casually draped around her.

  Thanos watched her warily, only to realise then that the conversation he’d tried to put off, the one he’d hoped he could make her forget with his lovemaking, was coming—and he dreaded it.

  Although desire still swam in her gaze, and her cheeks were still flushed with pleasure, her eyes were sharp. She may have been basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, but that did not mean she’d been rendered mindless.

  He let out a long sigh, finally accepting that she was determined to have this discussion this eve. In that moment, she was closed off from him, her emotions harder to read, but he knew…deep down in his soul, he knew. He was losing her. She was pulling away from him, and, if he was not careful, he would lose her for good. A woman such as Lamia did not give her trust easily, and when it was taken for granted, as he’d so callously done by withholding truths from her, she took it back, and it was never to be given again.

  “I can sense there is much on your mind.” He sat down beside her on the bed. “You wanted to talk earlier, but I stopped you. I am listening now.”

  Lamia nodded slowly, uncertain whether she was quite prepared to reveal what was haunting her now that she had his attention. She dragged in an uneven breath.

  Just part your lips. The words will sort themselves out.

  “You know already I am still upset that you did not tell me of the marriage customs in Sparta.” She hesitated. “But it is more than that—it is the deeper meaning of it all.”

  He furrowed his brow when she did not rush to continue. “What are you saying?” he asked quietly, the deep rumble of his voice so earnest that out of cowardice she averted her gaze, not wanting to have to stare into his eyes when she said her next words. But Thanos would not let her retreat so easily. Reaching out a hand to stroke her face, he lifted her chin so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She almost faltered at the tender look in his eyes, but she forced herself not to be swayed by it. She resolved to tell him what she truly felt in her heart.

  “Thanos, I meant what I said. I truly do love many things about you and my life here, but there is also much about you and your life that I know nothing about. Things you should have told me before you thrust me into this position. It’s my ignorance that makes me question what else you have neglected to tell me. You have intentionally kept matters from me, thinking to protect me, but all you’ve done is make me doubt my ability to trust you—”

  The frown he wore tugged at her heart. “I was only trying to shield you. It truly was never my intention to deceive you and I never meant to hurt you. You must know this. I do not blame you for not yet being able to trust me, but you must know that I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you—”

  “I don’t know that, Thanos,” she said gently. “Because I do not know you. And I think I just need some time—”

  She faltered at the darkness forming in his eyes. The lines along his mouth stood out when he frowned. “Time for what?”

  She sighed. There was no turning back now. She had to say it. “Time to make some decisions,” she finished quietly.

  “Decisions?” He nodded as if he’d resigned himself. “All right. I can give you time. You shall have plenty of time to make whatever decision you need to mak—”

  She placed a single finger against his lips to halt his next words. Thanos was a good man. Most women would kill to be in her sandals, but she wasn’t most women. She hated having decisions made for her and choices taken out of her hands. She hated feeling like she would make a mistake and embarrass herself and Thanos at any moment because of her ignorance. She hated not knowing if one dawn she would return home to an empty bed because he was now sleeping with his lover. Had she known him better, or known the ways of his people, she probably would not have felt this way, but that was beside the point. The truth was that they did not belong toge
ther—their destinies were leading them in opposite directions. Thanos wanted a wife, a wife to give him children who would bear his name for many generations, while all she wanted was revenge—an act that would most certainly lead to her swift death.

  “You are not hearing me, Thanos. When we spoke in Athens we both agreed that it was safer for me to return with you to Sparta. I kept my word. I came with you to protect your truce, in exchange for your saving my life. You then told me of the Oracle, and, though I was not prepared to wed, you took me to wife. Even after that deception, I accepted my lot and you—”

  “Your lot?” His expression hardened. “I did not realise wedding me was such a burden—”

  “Thanos—”

  “I thought you were happy here. I thought you’d accepted your destiny.”

  “I am happy, but do not twist my words and turn this back on me. You have kept truths from me that make me doubt—”

  “But I only di—”

  “No, Thanos. There is no apology to explain this away. We may be wedded, but we do not trust one another, because we do not know one another.”

  The lines in his forehead deepened. “You may not trust me, Lamia, but I do trust you. Yes, I have made many mistakes, but I never expected you would come to distrust me. I know my trust in you has never once wavered, not even after you ran from me.”

  The sincerity of his words burned in his gaze, and a hard, painful lump welled up in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

  You have to do this. You must tell him.

  She had to do this now before she could not, before she lost her heart to Thanos, before she forgot her purpose and never left Sparta. Thanos said he trusted her, but his actions belied his words. She could not let his earnest gazes and sincere words sway her, not anymore.

  Gathering up her courage, Lamia released a long, strained breath knowing her next words would shatter the bliss they’d shared this past moon, but it was necessary. He had to know that she did not plan to stay.

  “Thanos,” she said carefully. “I cannot stay here—you know this.”

  Anger brewed in his gaze. “I actually know no such thing.”

  “Please, Thanos, be honest with yourself—you know I cannot stay here as your wife. We agreed that I would come to Sparta so as not to threaten your truce with Athens, but when the threat from Rome has passed…I shall leave,” she said quietly.

  “I see.”

  She could tell he didn’t—that he did not truly understand—and she ached to ease the lines upon his face, she ached to kiss him soundly until the storm raging in his gaze quieted. She cared for him, truly she did, but…

  I am afraid to love him.

  That was the heart of it. She was afraid to love Thanos, only to lose herself to him…and then lose him.

  “And what should I tell the people of Sparta?” he asked tightly. “How should I explain to them that my wife and their queen has simply decided to leave.”

  She reached for him, but he jerked away.

  “Thanos, please be reasonable. Please understand my position.”

  He shot to his feet and grabbed a blanket from the bed to wrap around his waist.

  “Trust me, Lamia, I understand.”

  She shook her head. “No, y— Where are you going?”

  He was already at the door when he spun around, and the look in his eyes was so ferocious she had to suppress a gasp.

  “I want a wife, Lamia. A woman who will stand by my side. Who will be my partner. Who will lo—” He cleared his throat. “Who will trust me, and forgive me when I have wronged her.”

  “Thanos—”

  “I do not want a scared girl, too afraid of being vulnerable with her husband, too afraid to trust, nor do I want a woman to warm my bed as her pastime until she decides to move on with her life.”

  He raked her with his gaze, and her heart seized when he dismissed her with the blink of his eyelids. “I thought I’d found something special in you, in our union. I thought you were my destiny, that you were happy as my wife.” He turned from her. “But I was very wrong.”

  He slipped from their bedchamber, the door closing behind him with a sombre finality.

  Long after Thanos had left, Lamia fought back the tears until she just could not stem them any longer and every emotion she’d bottled up inside her spilled forth and she cried into her pillow.

  That was why parting now was for the best. She cared too much—she needed him too much. Thanos was furious now, but he would thank her later. In time he would realise just how wrong she was for him and he would find someone else—a woman who could be all the things he wanted…needed. A woman who was nothing like her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lamia hammered at the sword before her, moulding it to perfection, her strikes brutal as the metal yielded beneath the weight of her anger.

  A fortnight had passed since their bitter argument, and she missed Thanos, missed his laughter, his smiles, the intimacy they’d shared, his hand caressing her flesh as he pushed inside her.

  She shuddered, nearly striking her hand with the hammer as her thoughts wandered.

  This was for the best, she chanted to herself. For the best. But she worried…that maybe she’d been wrong. With Thanos absent from her life, she should have been focused on returning to Athens—her preparations filling her days—but she wasn’t. Actually, quite the opposite. She spent more time thinking of Thanos than anything else, more time missing him, longing for him—

  “Damnation,” she cursed into the wind when her strike missed the metal blade, the hammer jamming her thumb instead. She shoved her throbbing finger into her mouth, trying to soothe the pain. She rarely hurt herself when she worked, but lately she was a walking accident, and it was all Thanos’ fault. He consumed her waking thoughts and haunted her dreams with his teasing smile, his husky voice.

  She shivered when the image of him seemingly materialised before her eyes, and she nearly groaned aloud when she saw them as they’d once been, entwined in each other’s arms, his body covering hers as he thrust between her thighs, deep into her womanhood, her legs curling behind his back, her entire body trembling from the pleasure of his passionate lovemaking.

  She struck the metal viciously with her hammer. This had not been the plan she’d mapped out on her walk home from Basha’s nearly a fortnight ago. Her plan had been to put distance between herself and Thanos before her feelings grew any deeper for him, and then leave as soon as he marched out for battle.

  Yet, with each dawn, she found herself becoming more entrenched into the fabric of Sparta, her own life weaving seamlessly into the lives of every Spartan she met. The more time she spent here, the more she realised that it wasn’t just Thanos she cared for, but now there was Armine and Callisto, Basha and Ulysseus, even Adonis. They were her friends, the family she now belonged to. There was nothing but ashes and bitter memories back in Carthage—there was nothing and no one to return to. She had a thriving, vibrant life here in Sparta—

  But what of Darius?

  Had he not been her family too? Had she not loved him as her own father? She’d promised to avenge his death and she would not abandon her vow to him—but moons had passed since she’d made that promise.

  A ragged, weary sigh tore through her, slicing open her conflicted heart.

  Her vengeful vow—it now choked her, weighed her down. Like an obsession, it would eventually destroy everything she loved—including herself.

  And yet she could not abandon the promise she’d made. She would not abandon her vow to Darius for a life of happiness that would always be haunted by his ghost as long as Atallus still lived.

  The wind whipped through her hair, the gentle breeze carrying with it the scent of sweat and leather, reminding her of Thanos.

  How she wished he was there to talk to. She could have confided in him, shared with him those demons he’d once declared he would slay for her, but he wanted nothing to do with her, and she couldn’t blame him. Thanos had offered her ev
erything—his entire world—and she’d turned her back on him, rejected him.

  Even after their bitter argument, he’d still kept his promise. He’d loaned her the coins for her to begin plying her trade as a swordsmith. When Basha had handed her a purse full of silver drachma, she should have been overjoyed, but she’d been filled only with regretful sadness. He’d kept his word, despite everything, but she’d wished it had come directly from him, and not through Basha. As heartwarming as his gesture had been, it had been impersonal, leaving her feeling cold inside, reminding her that Thanos had no desire to even lay eyes upon her. And now she feared that whatever affection he’d once harboured for her she’d all but destroyed.

  Thanos was never around anymore—his instructions with Armine the only times she saw him at their home, and even then he did not speak to her. He’d taken up separate chambers, rising before dawn and creeping in late into the eve.

  But last eve…

  Her heart squeezed so tight in her chest she could hardly breathe. She inhaled sharply, even as the very thought of Thanos’ betrayal clogged her throat with a heart-wrenching sob.

  Last eve Thanos had not been in his chambers, for she’d gone to him, ready to humble herself, hoping to at least find a way to bridge the distance that separated them…but he hadn’t been there. And she’d spent a lonely, heart-breaking eve in their bed, wondering whose bed he was in.

  Her hammer crashed down upon the forming blade, striking the metal with the full force of her anger. That was probably why it slipped again and slammed against her finger.

  “Fuck!” Two of her fingers were well on their way to being broken while her hand now throbbed with pain

  “If you keep that up you will have no fingers left to finish my dagger,” a teasing voice chimed from behind her.

  A familiar voice. Lamia scowled at her approaching visitor.

  “Oh, do not give me that look. Of late you have become quite inept. I wonder why?” Callisto smiled prettily, mischief sparkling in her aquamarine eyes.