Seduced by the Gladiator(46)

“If you do not help me inside of you, then I will come on your ass. All over your ass.” The visual that his words brought to my mind was highly erotic, and made me moan.

“Much as I would love to paint my come on your skin, you do not want that, I think.” He murmured into my ear, his words warm and damp. “You want me to come when I am deep inside of you, when you are full to bursting with my cock.”

By now I wanted him so desperately that I would have agreed with anything he said. Whimpering, I rose to my toes, bending over fully with my ass in the air. Reaching behind me, I helped him guide the impossibly hard length of his cock inside of my cunt, which was slick with need for him.

I gasped as he shoved inside of me, hard. When he was in completely, his testicles tapping the tender flesh between my legs, I moaned with pleasure and with pain.

Bent over as I was, he hit deeper than he ever had before. It felt strange, and it also coaxed short, hard bursts of sensation from the very depths of my body.

He could have stopped, could have given me a moment to adjust myself.

He kept going.

When I was on the brink of pain, he finally stopped for a moment, giving me time to get accustomed to the impossible length inside my body. Still, his insistent finger kept rubbing, until I relaxed and began to move my hips, slowly at first, then quickening until my movements bordered on violent. He seemed to take that as a sign that I was ready, and I was—more than ready.

“Fuck.” Christus began to thrust, taking me quickly, even viciously. He balanced his weight on palms that were pressed on either side of my own, quickening his pace. Our flesh slapped together as he moved faster and faster.

I felt myself careening toward a peak that I knew I would fall from.

Christus shouted as he erupted inside of me. I quivered as I felt the force of his pleasure, and as the warmth of his release trickled down the insides of my thighs.

Breathing hard, he pressed his face against the back of my neck, murmuring words that I could not quite hear. I quivered beneath him still, straining for that release, ready to explode.

Slowly Christus took his hand and rubbed it over my cunt. At the same time he pulled his finger from my ass. The combination of sensations had me crying out before I flooded into his palm, collapsing back against him.

Our breaths mingled in the air, the sound harsh in the quiet. I froze when I heard footsteps outside the door, growing ever louder as they approached our room.

The door was locked with Christus’ leather ties, but even without seeing, it would be obvious to anyone on the other side what we had been doing. We had not been quiet.

I waited for the pounding on the wood, for someone to catch us in the act, to threaten to expose us to the dominus.

But the footsteps walked away. My heart began to beat a rapid tattoo as I wondered who had been checking on us.

“It does not matter.” Nuzzling my neck, Christus wrapped his arms around me. Then he lowered us to the bed, where he arranged my body on top of him. I was grateful, for I did not think that I could bear my own weight any longer.

Flooded with nerves and emotions, I was breathing hard and shaking slightly as Christus rubbed his hands briskly up and down my arms. Floating on exhaustion, my eyelids began to droop. I thought that I heard something off in his voice, something that I would have processed as suppressed fury, had I been awake.

I was not. Emotionally and now physically spent, my mind blank, I did as I was told.

I slept.





CHAPTER NINE




* * *





I was coming to dread being summoned upstairs.

I had woken alone in my chamber. Not eager to be by myself, I had dressed and stumbled into the training yard, assuming that the day’s drills had begun.

Some of the men had been in the enclosed sands, but they moved about without purpose, and I saw that the doctore was not there to direct the drills.

But as soon as he entered the clearing, walking down the steep stairs that led from the balcony above, I felt nerves flutter across my flesh. Before I could wonder what was going on, or could ponder the identity of my nighttime visitor and what those footsteps had signified, I was taken upstairs by the doctore yet again. Now I stood in the office of the dominus, with the man himself . . . and with Christus.

“What has happened?” Though I spoke to my master, it was Christus at whom I looked.

He returned my stare, but his expression was uneasy.

My heart began to thud faster than was comfortable.

“Lilia.” My name was spoken as a reprimand, for I had spoken impertinently, questioning the dominus.

“Apologies.” I did not mean it.

“We must hurry, before Gaius rises.” The dominus looked at me pointedly as he ran fingers through nut-brown hair that needed to be washed. Though I blanched as my master spoke the name of my tormentor, I also fixed him with a look that surely told him volumes about my feelings on his betrayal.