My Spartan Hellion

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My Spartan Hellion Page 19

by Nadia Aidan


  She had a pretty good idea what he’d promised the woman payment for and, if she and Basha hadn’t arrived when they had, the woman probably would have earned her coins. Pain knotted her belly at the realisation that Thanos no longer wanted her. That he’d sought out a prostitute to ease his lusts was hurtful and humiliating.

  A fresh wave of fury hit her and the boiling emotions fuelled her precise movements as sweat poured from her body, soaking her chlamys. When needing to expend her anger, Lamia had always turned to her training, so she’d risen that dawn and headed to the open gymnasium near the agora. It would be good for her, she’d decided—to practice her swordsmanship, but also to work through her frustrations away from Thanos and the home they shared before she would have to confront him. Maybe, when she was calmer, they could have a fruitful discussion and not the simmering argument that was sure to come if she was upset.

  She snorted. Not upset?

  Not likely.

  Already, she’d been there for three hours and every time she thought of Thanos her anger redoubled. What also appeared to be steadily increasing was the number of curious spectators hovering around the open field. She noticed then that several hoplites had joined the crowd, their raucous cheers echoing loudly across the open space whenever she executed a particularly difficult move. She rolled her eyes when they cheered again. Did they not have better things to do than watch Thanos’ ‘exotic Berber wife’? Certainly there were lands to conquer, she thought dryly.

  “Your husband should know better than to leave you unattended. You could kill someone.”

  She turned at the sound of the deep, familiar voice, letting the heavy sword rest against her hip. Instantly groans of protest erupted from the growing crowd.

  “Oh, calm down my friends,” Adonis shouted to them. “I have not come to spoil the fun. Quite the opposite. I wonder if the lady would care to try her skills on me.” He crooked his lips into a smile.

  With a grin of her own, Lamia shook her head at the handsome hoplite, who she’d discovered lived up to his namesake as she’d first suspected. Adonis was breathtakingly handsome and he knew it. He was also a notorious flirt and quite free with the ladies. Still, his shameless flirting aside, a genuine friendship had blossomed between the two in the passing moons.

  Unsheathing his sword, he dipped his head with a curt nod, his dimples creasing his cheeks. “Care to join me in a friendly round?” His eyes sparkled. “If you dare.”

  “You are incorrigible. You know that? If Thanos finds out about this, he will flog us both.”

  “Then we shall not tell him,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Come now, Lamia, show me what you can do with one of your little girl swords,” he taunted as he gestured towards her ruby-jewelled sword of pure steel, its hilt an intricate design forged out of silver. It was one of her more elaborate designs. It was also one of her more expensive pieces. She really shouldn’t have even been training with it—

  “Do not tell me you are fearful of one as lowly as I,” Adonis teased, glimpsing her hesitation. “Not when you have battled thieves and governors, even our great general himself.”

  She sighed, knowing she was going to regret giving in to Adonis’ dare. Her mind screamed at her to tell him no but she had never been particularly adept at resisting a challenge—even one as foolhardy as this.

  Cheers erupted from the crowd when she lifted her sword.

  “All right, Spartan. Show me if you’re as good as you boast,” she taunted, smiling when his eyes widened at her double meaning. He wasn’t the only one who could flirt. She may be out of practice, but she still knew how to play the sport.

  Besides, if her husband could canvas prostitutes, the least she could do was enjoy the attention of a handsome young man.

  * * * *

  Thanos wearily dragged himself towards the post where he’d left Zeus, eager to make the short ride home. He was going to be sick and he wanted to be in his chambers when he vomited.

  He’d awakened late and had to rush to his meeting with the council. He’d then sat through another two hours of deliberation before they’d taken a vote on what to do about the Romans. His bad mood had taken a dive for the worse when the results had come back.

  The fools had voted against sending soldiers to Athens—a grave mistake on their part. Fortunately, he and Cleomenes had suspected that would be the outcome and so they’d devised a plan. A plan that, if it was to work, would mean that he would have to leave soon. His only regret was that he would have to leave Lamia at such a tumultuous time in their relationship.

  After last eve, he’d awoken with new hope for them. A wife who did not care would not demand he come home then threaten to fight prostitutes over her husband.

  He dreaded leaving Lamia with so much of their future still uncertain, but it was necessary, if they were to even have a future, for the very existence of Sparta was at stake. He only hoped that, when he returned, he could convince her that she hadn’t made a mistake by coming to Sparta and becoming his wife, and that, if she left, she would regret leaving him behind—that was, if she was still there when he returned, he thought glumly. With Lamia, he had no way of knowing if she would vanish from Sparta the very moment he marched out.

  Boisterous shouts and cheers rose up from Pylos, drawing his attention and bringing with it a fresh wave of nausea as the loud noises ricocheted in his head. Thanos promised himself then that he would never imbibe wine ever again as he dragged his feet towards the large crowd, curious as to what could have drawn so many spectators. While the gymnasium normally enjoyed a steady trickle of people, this dawn it was overflowing with visitors as they crowded on the grass around the open area. That was an unusual occurrence, especially this early in the morn.

  With unhurried steps, he pushed himself through the throng of people trying to get a closer look.

  His forward progress was momentarily halted when cheers rose up from the crowd, the crush of people boxing him in tightly as they jumped and clapped.

  “That’s it, Lamia. Get him!” someone shouted out.

  He froze, his body rooted to the spot.

  The craggily old Spartan beside him squinted hard as he stared up at him, a smile slowly spreading across his wrinkled face.

  “Your wife is holding her own in there with Adonis. You two will have fine sons,” he exclaimed excitedly.

  Holding her own?

  With Adonis!

  Numbly, Thanos pushed his way through the throng of people until he made it to the edge of the field. He saw her immediately and his belly lurched at the vision before him. Her mass of flowing chestnut locks were wild, her topaz eyes even wilder as she wielded her exotic sword effortlessly. She looked as unbridled and untamed as he knew her to be. And a frown crossed his face when he saw, much to his displeasure, that her chlamys was bunched up mid-thigh so that she could easily dodge Adonis’ attacks, leaving her shapely, toned legs on display for all to see. In a word, she was stunning…and as soon as he got his hands on her he was going to spank her stunning ass, right after he killed Adonis, he concluded as he stomped angrily onto the field.

  Lamia stopped in mid-thrust, her sword high above her head.

  “Thanos!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

  He glanced in her direction but did not address her. As furious as he was, he was afraid of what he would say. Besides, he would see to her shortly, right after he dealt with the larger matter…

  Turning towards Adonis, he raised his fist high, crashing it into Adonis’ jaw before the boy had the chance to react. The young man stumbled back, but, much to his annoyance, did not fall.

  Adonis’ blue eyes darkened with anger as he readied himself to charge Thanos.

  “Adonis. No,” shouted Lamia and she grasped Thanos’ arm, her eyes pleading. “Thanos, please do not do this.”

  Shrugging her off, he gently nudged her aside.

  Unsheathing his sword, he pointed it at the younger man. “How dare you raise your sword to my wife? She could hav
e been hurt.”

  “Hurt?” Adonis laughed dryly. “The only way I could have hurt her was if she’d been blindfolded and tied up. Lamia and I were simply enjoying a friendly sparring match—”

  Friendly? There was nothing friendly about the way the boy looked at his wife whenever he was around, which seemed to be quite often of late. His eyes turned cold. “Stay away from my wife—”

  “Oh, so Lamia is your wife now? How convenient for you all of a sudden. One dawn she is your wife, the next dawn you don’t even acknowledge her presence. Maybe on the morrow she shall be your wife again, but who knows? You may decide to ignore her agai—”

  “Enough, Adonis,” Lamia warned, but her warning came too late.

  “How dare you!” Thanos thundered, rage scorching hot and violent through his veins. He advanced towards Adonis but was forced to halt his steps when Lamia blocked his path. Throwing herself between Thanos and the young hoplite, she braced her hands against Thanos’ chest.

  “Thanos, he is just a boy. He is brash and hot-headed. Do not do something you will later regret. It is not worth it,” she said quietly.

  “Move, Lamia,” he gritted out, his eyes never leaving Adonis.

  “No, Thanos.”

  “Move, Lamia. Now!” he shouted.

  When she still refused to budge, he grasped her by the waist, picked her up and set her aside.

  Before either Lamia or Adonis could react, he rounded on Adonis and smashed his fist into the boy’s face again, much harder than before. This time Adonis crumpled to the ground in a heap.

  “Thanos!” Lamia cried and she tried to run towards the fallen Adonis but Thanos wrapped his arm around her waist, halting her mid-stride. Lifting her up, he slung her over his shoulder and held her firmly against him with his hand splayed across her backside.

  He turned to face the nearby hoplites and nodded towards Adonis’ unconscious body.

  “Get your soldier,” he said before he stalked off, still holding a wildly struggling, fuming Lamia.

  As Thanos stalked away from the gymnasium, the crowd erupted with a flurry—clapping and cheering wildly. They had enjoyed the show.

  Thanos barely heard any of it as blood pounded in his ears, his entire body coiled tight with barely leashed fury.

  Lamia beat wildly against Thanos’ back as she was carried unceremoniously into their home. He’d even held her over his shoulder as he rode atop Zeus, which had been the ultimate humiliation. Curious and sympathetic eyes followed her while she’d flopped like a limp doll against him. Help me, she’d wanted to say. She had never been so mortified in her entire life.

  Once they were safely ensconced in their bedchamber, Thanos finally lowered her feet to the floor and released her.

  Face to face, their angry gazes clashed.

  “How could you!” they shouted simultaneously.

  Lamia’s eyes rounded. “How could I? Adonis and I were simply sparring, nothing more. But you have to charge in there, beat him up and then drag me off like I am a disobedient child. You are nothing but a bully, Thanos.”

  “You should be grateful all I did was knock your boy lover out. I should have killed him. How could you take that philanderer to your bed? He has fucked everyone in this cit—”

  She drew back sharply. “Adonis is not my lover. He is my friend, Thanos. Nothing more.”

  “Then why did he feel at liberty to say such things about what goes on between us in the privacy of our home? How does he even know we have had our differences if you did not tell him?”

  “Everyone knows that you have cast me aside, Thanos. That you have rejected me for a prostitute,” she said bitterly, hating the slight catch in her voice as she fought against the painful ache now engulfing her heart.

  “What are you talking about? I have not cast you aside for any woman and certainly not a prostitute.”

  She was incredulous at the blatant lie he now told as she folded her arms across her chest. “Just last eve Basha had to pay a prostitute the coins you promised her before we could drag your drunken self home. Do you not remember that?”

  “I do not remember much from last eve,” Thanos admitted with a frown. “But I am certain I did not even have my purse upon me, and I never would have promised coins to another without it. I believe this prostitute you speak of has cheated you out of your drachma.”

  She considered his words as she studied him closely. Thanos was not a liar—withholding truths regarding important matters he was certainly guilty of, but not once had he ever lied to her—and something told her he never would.

  That prostitute had better hope they never crossed paths again because Lamia was going to give her some coins all right—a fist full of them.

  “So, you are telling me you did not seek out a prostitute last eve?”

  “I just told you no—”

  “So you have not bedded any other women since I have come here.”

  Thanos exploded. “Are you even listening to me? No, I have not bedded any other women. Certainly not since you’ve been here, not since I’ve met you, even, and not for almost an entire annum before.” He stalked towards her, seizing her arms. “And you had better reply the same. If you have bedded another man, especially Adonis, I shall march back out there and kill him.”

  “Another man? There has been no other man but you, Thanos. And as for Adonis, he is simply my friend, which I keep trying to tell you—”

  “He does not think so. He desires more than friendship from you. I have seen it in his eyes. He covets you. He covets what is mine.”

  His? Thanos’ words stilled her, sparking fury in her heart. He had some audacity. He’d ignored her for over a full moon, but now all of a sudden she was his. She struggled to break free of his grasp. “Yours? I am no longer yours, Thanos. Not anymore.”

  Anger scorched through his gaze, so intense that she almost trembled. She had never seen him so angry and, had he not still held her, she probably would have taken a step back.

  “You just told me that you had bedded no other man but me,” he whispered coldly.

  “And I haven’t—”

  “Then whom do you belong to if not me?”

  Her lashes shuttered her eyes, for she could not gaze upon him as emotion welled up in her throat. She was his, she had been from the very beginning, but it was obvious he no longer desired her.

  “I want to belong to you, Thanos,” she choked out softly, amazed she’d found the strength to admit even that, despite how vulnerable it left her to him. And yet she could not stem the words of her heart now that she had begun. “But you do not want me anymore. You never look at me, you never touch me or even speak to me, and we have not made love in over a full moon.”

  With a gentle hand, he cupped her cheek, forcing her gaze to his face. Disbelief softened his eyes, chasing away the last of his anger.

  “You told me you wished to leave me, Lamia. How could I treat you as my proper wife, knowing you planned to walk away from me? I wanted you to want to stay with me—but you do not. I will not lie and say it does not pain me to know you wish to leave, because it does. I hate that you could so easily walk away from what we have built here, and yes, every time I think of this, I find myself angry with you, but that does not mean I stopped wanting you, Lamia. I have never stopped desiring you,” he said softly, his thumb stroking her bottom lip.

  The ache that had torn apart her heart since their bitter fight began to ease. His gentle touch, the longing in his eyes, his earnest words… Thanos had not cast her aside, he still wanted her, and that knowledge freed the tender emotions she’d guarded so carefully and for so long, hoping to spare herself from knowing pain. In the end, those walls she’d erected had not spared her any measure of pain, for Lamia had still experienced it in the deepest regions of her soul when she’d believed she’d lost Thanos forever.

  It was because she loved him.

  She loved Thanos—with her whole heart, her entire soul.

  She’d been trying to fight it
, then she’d tried denying it, but her efforts—they’d been futile. Almost from the moment she’d met him and had discovered how different Thanos was from the other men she’d known, she’d let him inside her heart. His compassion for others stirred her, along with his tenderness, his strength. When she was with him she always felt safe, cherished, and even if he did not actually feel the emotion for her, he made her feel loved.

  Her feelings overwhelmed her as her heart burst with love for Thanos, an emotion she never thought she would ever feel for a man. She ached to reveal herself to Thanos, but it was still so new, so foreign to her that she found she did not yet have the courage to speak her heart. Instead she said softly, “I never stopped wanting you either, Thanos.”

  He threaded his hand through her hair, and she read both tenderness and longing in his gaze as he tilted her head back and slowly lowered his head to kiss her lips.

  She closed her eyes as she welcomed his kiss. It had been so long. So long since she’d felt the brush of his lips, the heavy weight of his body against hers, the tight feel of his cock inside her.

  She trembled at the first taste of his lips. Twining her arms around his neck, she held him close, caressing his tongue with hers, savouring the essence of him. She moaned, grasping for his garments, tearing at them.

  Thanos smiled down at her and in a single fluid motion he wrenched off his chlamys, casting it aside. She lifted her arms to shrug out of her own sweat-drenched chlamys, hurriedly tossing it to the floor.

  Their movements were frenzied as they touched each other, their hands stroking everywhere their lips could not reach. A groan escaped his mouth when she nipped his lips with her teeth. She could feel his control waning. They had been without each other for far too long.

  Thanos grasped her hips and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he commanded.

  Instantly, she clamped her thighs around him, gasping when her back slammed into the wall, the cool marble sending chills across her flesh. She stroked his shoulders as he pressed her deeper against the stones, his body trembling, his breath coming in stilted pants.

 

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