by Nicola Rose
Repeat. Over and over until his growls can probably be heard the other side of Rome.
Taunting the beast while he’s chained… it’s low. And the power surging through my veins is beautiful. I’m flying. Soaring. The desperate need between my legs is torture to myself, but I carry on regardless, letting his rage build.
“Look at me,” I command; knowing full well that to do so breaks every rule he’s had beaten into him over the years. His head remains bowed, teeth clenched in fury.
“Now!” I yell, before sucking him deep into my throat on a greedy slurp.
His eyes snap to mine and I nearly choke on the mouthful. So much hatred. So much unbridled anger in those mesmerising blue eyes. It’s all there. All the bloodlust, all the desire and death. Staring right through me.
I move a hand between my thighs and rub at myself while he watches me suck him.
“Please,” he groans. “Domina, please, I can’t…”
He tightens, the release about to break through.
And I step away.
His roar echoes through my very bones. I will fill up on his hatred, devour his wrath. The next time he’s brought to my room he’ll unleash the beast upon me and I will ride the waves of his pain.
I straighten out my robes and move in closer, my lips a whisper from his. Not touching, not giving in to the soaring arousal that has my core twisting in frustration. “A slave girl will be brought to you tonight, as reward for your abysmal victory in the arena.”
His eyes widen in horror. “No, you can’t. Don’t make me do that. I can’t—”
“You can, and you will.”
Panic threatens to engulf those shimmering eyes. He can face death on the battlefield with zero emotion, but this…
“Please, Domina.” I’ve never heard him beg with such conviction.
“If you don’t, it will raise further suspicions. You are a gladiator and you will fuck her like one.”
“You know what will happen—”
“Yes, I do. And if I think you have held back you’ll be punished further. You will set free that fucked-up head of yours and you will rain down your fury upon her.”
“I don’t want any other. I only need you.”
“Which is why you will take her. Consider this your final punishment, and if you ever look at me from the arena floor again, I will not hesitate to destroy you.”
13
Livia
Sagging against the wall, I’m back in my room, gasping for breath between the tears.
I have to do this.
Do not show weakness. Break them…
If we’re caught because of his recklessness then Felix will ensure we both suffer for an age. Then he’ll end our misery in death.
I think, sometimes, Cassian sees me as his saviour. I’m everything – his world. He hates me and loves me all at the same time. He can’t forgive me for the way he’s treated, for the things we’ve put him through. But he wants to. He wants to push past that pain and love me. Or maybe he’s just using me too. Does he just want to be free? Does he think I can set him free?
He’s wrong. I cannot. And why would I? I’ve learned my lesson about releasing beasts. He’s no different to that alpha dog. If I let him off the leash he’ll turn around to bite me. Besides, I like the power I have over him. I like that he’ll bend to my will and bow before me… and in the next moment claim me like a crazed animal. I’m his owner, and his prey… I’m everything.
I take deep breaths and bury the anxiety. Swiping away tears and swallowing down the sympathy, losing it amongst the grime in my rotten core.
I will not show weakness.
Torturing myself brings a kind of pain that I like. One that I’m in control of. I choose how much it hurts. I choose when it happens and how much I will tolerate. Because this is all I’m worthy of. Pain and loss. Heartache. I don’t deserve anything more, so I become evil and transfer my suffering to someone else.
I want him to hurt as much as I do. And then, when he can bear no more, I want him to hurt me right back. To use me and abuse me. I want the monster – all of him.
He loves me. He would never really hurt me, not in any way that I didn’t ask for.
Felix hurts me for nothing but his own pleasure, all the love we once shared has died. His slave girls bring him more satisfaction than I do. I’m nothing but a money-grabbing whore. Here to look pretty on his arm and attend his needs behind closed doors.
But Cassian? The way he hurts me speaks to the darkest part of my soul.
And the darkness answers.
14
Cassian
I’m finally released from the shackles and left to clean myself up. Every movement should be agony, but I can hardly feel it. The welts on my back need medical attention though, or they’ll become infected.
My performance in the arena was inexcusable. Allowing myself to be distracted by a woman was pure weakness, and I should have died out there on that sand. I didn’t deserve to win.
No Thracian warrior worth anything would feel the way I do. I bring shame to my kind.
Having such feelings towards her… unforgiveable. Pathetic.
How can someone who relishes their control in such a way be anything but a vile stain on us all?
I hate her. She’s the embodiment of everything I loathe.
So why does a lead weight sit in my chest when we’re apart? Why do I care about the bruises she bears from other men? It’s no worse than she dishes out to everyone around her.
She deserves pain and suffering. She can’t even begin to understand what life is like for those beneath her…
If only her eyes wouldn’t soften when she lets her guard down.
If only I didn’t notice the way she trembles when her husband is near.
If only I didn’t know that there was goodness hiding inside her, just waiting to be set free.
15
Livia
The anticipation of the thrill, and the heartache, that I’m about to endure is almost too much to bear. I’ve been careful not to send him his woman until long after nightfall, and the wait is agonising.
Finally, when it’s the right time, I creep through the barracks, past all the sleeping gladiators. Vitus is secreted away in his private chamber with his love. A couple of guards remain on watch, but they don’t dare to utter a word as I pass them.
Reckless. I’m getting just as reckless as he. Every time I move past a guard I know I’m courting with death. If one of them were to dare speak out against me…
I pull up sharply at Cassian’s cell, and peer through the bars into the darkness. A single candle is lit, casting him in an eerie low light. Of course he’ heard me coming. Was no doubt waiting for it. His shoulders slump as I lean against the bars.
The girl is seated next to him on the bed. Beautiful little Aelia.
Felix only instructed that Cassian should be rewarded with a girl, he didn’t specify which one. He’ll be furious when he finds out that I sent his favourite plaything to the beast. But I’ll take his punishment, it will be worth it.
I smile sweetly at Aelia and she grimaces. In her fluster from the gladiator next to her she’s forgotten to fear me, and looks directly into my eyes. Good. I shall enjoy this so much more if she looks to me in despair. It might erase the sound of her patronising giggles in my head.
“Were you waiting for me to get started, or…” I trail off, eyebrows raised at Cassian.
“Please,” he tries one more time. “Is it not enough that I bleed for you in the arena? You must bleed my heart dry, too?”
“Do not make me have to instruct you again.”
Slowly, so slowly, he stands. Resigned.
His venom has him staring me down, too. He looks right through my soul with a mixture of pleading and exhilaration. Wildness. He drops the flimsy leather covering from his manhood and he’s already hard, despite himself. Good boy.
Aelia obliges and removes her tunic. She shyly spreads her legs, as if she doesn�
��t spread them every day for whichever man demands it. Just like we all do…
Cassian doesn’t bother with any kissing or touching. He simply presses himself to her opening and enters on a gentle push. Drawing back, fully out, he follows with another, and another. Slowly, calmly. As if he were making love to me.
She moans in delight and reaches out to touch him, but he grunts his disapproval and swats her away, pinning her hands over her head.
The candle flickers and shadows dance across the contours of his abdominals. Sculpted to perfection. He’s cleaned away most of the blood, but his body is covered in wounds, both old and new. The body of a fighting champion. A man created to serve one purpose – to entertain. To awe and inspire, to repulse and to thrill.
His pace quickens. He’s going to try and end this quickly before the beast has time to prowl from the shadows.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, and he pauses, slowing his journey.
“Show me,” I whisper, my hand already rubbing at the nub between my legs. “You’re nothing. No one but a disgusting creature. Show me what I do to you.”
His answering snarl has me plunging a finger up inside my wetness.
The dark, swirling tattoos on his back come alive with the rippling and flexing of muscle. And then they go still. His whole body rigid.
The darkness is waking up.
16
Cassian
The darkness inside stirs. The same evil that awakens in the arena.
Fucking and fighting are my only releases. These are the only moments I can let go, when I can be free. But they get muddled in my head. They’re too connected. As soon as the adrenalin flows, the beast emerges.
It doesn’t matter that sex should be calm and beautiful – the demons wake up and the fog settles, and I can’t control myself.
She knows this. Livia knows that the only time in my life when I have laid with a woman and not experienced that rage – is when I have slept with her. Through all the hatred and pain she causes, she still has the power to take it away. When she’s soft, and tender, and my body melts into hers… the darkness vanishes and I can make love.
She knows this… and that’s why she sent Aelia to my cell tonight. To release the tortured soul that she prodded and pushed in the punishment room. To marvel and enjoy… to fucking enjoy watching him unleashed on another.
Aelia lets out a squeak of pleasure. Her furrow is so tight and hot. I try to slow down, but it’s too late. I can’t see anything but haze. Every part of me surges for the thrill, muscles locked with rigid tension, my balls aching for release.
I thrust so hard that her head slams into the wall. She squeals and I pound harder. Every whimper that falls from her lips makes me want more. Harder. Faster. I can’t tell if it’s awe or fear as she stares up at me like a lost rabbit. So tiny, so breakable.
She’s screaming in pain and pleasure as I nearly split her in two with violent thrusts.
“Louder,” Livia commands. “Let the whole ludus know what you filthy creatures are doing.”
I let out a roar and Aelia’s shriek is almost delirious.
Visions sweep through my mind, right behind my eyes. All I can see is violence and blood. All I can hear is the agony of death, and the crack of a whip. My body locks into fight or flight.
And I will always fight.
I dare to glance at Livia. I shouldn’t have.
The sight of her, dripping with lust, eyes glazed with passion…
I hate her.
I fucking love her.
My hands tighten around Aelia’s throat and her eyes bulge.
I don’t take my eyes from my Domina.
Not when Aelia’s cries quieten to a gargle.
Not when the gargle quiets to nothing.
Not when I shoot my seed so far into her that my chest explodes in ecstasy and sorrow.
No. I do not take my eyes from my Domina. Because tomorrow I will have to stare at her feet and pretend this never happened.
So I glare at her now, and I etch the awe on her face into my memory. The next time she sees my cock, it won’t be a slave girl getting choked to the point of passing out.
It will be her.
17
Livia
The next day I awake and set about the usual routine without a glimmer of hesitation. If I falter, I will fall.
The slaves are quiet. The girls hush as I pass them, and serve me breakfast with extra caution. I catch a glimpse of Aelia through the kitchen, trying to hide the deep purple bruising on her neck with a strip of fabric. She scurries away before I can contemplate giving her an order. Or an apology.
No. No apology. Never show weakness. They will turn on you.
I choose to eat breakfast on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where Vitus is already up and training our men. Disappointingly, Cassian is nowhere to be seen.
They are truly works of art, these gladiators. They repulse and inspire in equal measure. Everyone loves to hate them. Women pretend to be offended, but they all want to fuck a gladiator. And any man is deluding himself if he pretends he doesn’t wish to have that power for a moment; to stand in an arena and conquer another.
Beyond the courtyard, the gates open and for a second I panic that Felix has returned early again. I’m not ready for the confrontation when he sees the state of his favourite girl.
But it’s not Felix that meanders through the grounds with a lazy smile. It’s his brother, Marcus.
My stomach drops through the floor. Worse. So much worse than Felix being home.
At least suffering at my husband’s hands is to be expected. I can live with it. But when it’s his brother? The shame already coats my tongue, which sticks in my dry throat.
Marcus glances up to the balcony and gives me a wink.
And Cassian stalks from the shadows, looking like he might burn the world to ashes.
18
Cassian
I can’t hold back.
Marcus cannot be here. Not today. I’m not in the right state today…
I move toward him and Vitus grabs my arm. I almost whirl and rip out his throat, barely getting a grip of myself.
“Stand down, gladiator,” Vitus warns.
It’s too late. I can’t…
The haze settles. I can’t bear it. Not today, not today…
Marcus has disappeared into the house.
My fists clench at my sides. I strain against Vitus’ hold. Every part of me draws toward the villa. I must protect her. I’m her gladiator. Her warrior. I cannot stand back…
“I said, stand down, Cassian,” Vitus growls in my ear. “Take it out on Caius.” He puts a blunt wooden sword into my hands and shoves me onto the training ground.
19
Livia
“Marcus, what a pleasant surprise,” I breeze, pottering around my room, busying myself with cleaning, which we both know is the job of the slaves.
“Livia,” he nods. “I trust you are managing your husband’s affairs in his absence?”
“Of course. All is well.”
“Wonderful. You won’t mind if I carry out a little inspection, then? You know how he frets when he’s away. I won’t be long…”
“Certainly. Where would you like to begin?” My voice hitches on the last word as his eyes rake greedily over me.
“Oh, I think we’ll begin right here, Livia,” he smiles.
“I see. Of course.”
I should try to fight it. I should scream, or run. But where would I go? Who would even help me?
I’m alone. And I will face it with my head held high.
Felix doesn’t care. Why should anyone else?
And so I bite back the tears as he pushes me to my knees. I stop myself from screaming the insults that want to break free. I take his cock, in every hole that he sticks it. And I take the beating that goes with it.
20
Livia
When Marcus is finished with me we head to the courtyard so that he may observe the gladiator
s. We watch them spar, and while he’s distracted I try to organise my ruffled hair, pulling it down over my face in a vain attempt at hiding the cut lip. Goodness knows what my eye looks like, but it’s puffed up and I can barely see through it.
I can see enough, though, to know that Cassian is fighting as if he were in the arena and not the training ground. He growls and roars, and swings the wooden sword down on his opponent with such force that blood flies and stains his own chest. Vitus snarls and goes to whisper in Cassian’s ear. His back straightens and my breath catches.
This could be very bad.
Marcus watches them intently and, after a few barked commands, he has Vitus lining the men up for inspection. I trail a pace behind as he walks along the line, looking down his nose at the lesser beings before him.
He pauses in front of Cassian and I think everyone stops breathing.
Cassian bristles. His eyes downcast, but the anger simmering in them.
A smile creeps across Marcus’s face as he looks from Cassian, and back to me.
He can’t know! He can’t possibly know. Please…
“Vitus,” he suddenly barks. “My brother left clear instructions that this gladiator be put on increased training and reduced rations until his performance improves.”
“That is correct—” Vitus starts.
“He doesn’t look like he’s remorseful, or that he has paid anywhere near enough for his underperformance.”
I look at Cassian’s body, covered in welts and bruises, and want to scoff at the absurdity of that statement. I can feel how badly my gladiator wants to look at me, how much he wants to rip the very head clean off Marcus’s shoulders.