Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (14 page)

Titus pulled her hard against him, tracing the curve of her bottom
with his hand and dipping his fingers between her thighs. Octavia parted her
legs to allow him access and he smiled against her mouth. She was always eager
for his touch, which was one of the things he loved about her; his wife enjoyed
their passion as much as he did. Not all husbands could say the same, he well
knew. Indeed, many of his comrades complained endlessly about their wives and
took mistresses to compensate. But Titus only wanted Octavia – she was
everything to him.

She was dripping with arousal and he paused for a moment to regain
his self-control. Octavia moaned in his ear and pushed herself down onto his
hand, trying to make him caress her, as she desired.

“Patience my darling,” he muttered. Kissing her neck and nibbling
the skin at the base of her throat, he slid his fingers between the folds of
her sex. She moaned louder and he homed in on the hard nub of her clitoris,
brushing over it lightly. Octavia trembled against him, her body tensing in a
prelude to her orgasm. Slowly, teasingly, he caressed the slick flesh,
listening to her panting in his ear. She whimpered in disappointment when he
pulled his fingers away from her, but as he pushed her backwards upon the bed,
she realised what his intention was.

Invitingly, Octavia spread her legs wide, her open sex displayed in
all its glory. Titus knelt between her thighs and inhaled her musky scent
deeply. His cock throbbed painfully beneath his tunic, but he ignored its
pleading; his only desire at the moment was to please Octavia in the best way
he knew how.

He dipped his tongue into the moist depths of her sex, tasting her
sweet juices and lapping her nectar. She cried out at his touch and he felt the
first faint ripples of her orgasm. Slowly he licked across her clitoris,
swirling his tongue round the hard nub and sucking it gently. Octavia’s thighs
clamped painfully around his head. She cried out again and exploded in
pleasure. For a moment Titus couldn’t breathe, then gradually Octavia relaxed
her iron grip and he took a deep lungful of air, feeling her still quivering
beneath him.

Titus lifted himself up and moved to lie next to her sweating body.
His wife’s eyes were closed as he kissed her lips. He stroked her breasts and
belly while she came down from her high. Eventually she opened her eyes and
smiled dreamily at him. Turning onto her side, she kissed him and reached for
his cock.

The feel of her small hand wrapped tightly around his shaft was
almost enough to finish him. He sucked in a deep shaky breath and sat up.
Undoing his belt, Titus swiftly pulled his tunic over his head and threw it
onto the floor.

Octavia gazed upon him, his body bathed in the golden light from the
oil lamps. His muscles were sharply defined; a light sprinkling of hair covered
his chest and abdomen. His cock pointed proudly upwards and outwards. Licking
her lips lasciviously, Octavia rolled forward and took it in her velvety mouth.

Titus groaned and half closed his eyes. Her lips were tight and firm
around his shaft and he struggled to hold himself in check. The moist flicker
of her tongue across the head made him gasp harshly. “Slow down, my love, or I
won’t last!”

Octavia pulled back slightly and paused for a moment before sinking
back down until the head of his cock touched the back of her throat. Gripping
her head tightly in one hand, Titus moved himself in and out of her mouth,
concentrating on the exquisite sensations.

Nearly upon the point of no return, he pulled away abruptly and
Octavia pouted in disappointment. He dragged her to her feet and moved her
backwards, pushing her down onto the thick blankets. Moving over her, he
positioned himself at the entrance to her sex, feeling her heat burning into
him like a furnace. He bent to take a nipple in his mouth, tugging with his
teeth and hearing her moan in response.

Octavia wrapped her legs around his waist and sucked him inside her
tight channel. For a sublime moment he enjoyed the feel of her inner muscles
gripping his cock and he gazed deeply into her adoring eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered and slowly began to thrust in and out of
her body, watching the pleasure flutter across her face in waves. She gripped
his back and dug deeply with her nails, causing him to cry out.

“Aghhh I love you too,” she gasped, climaxing again, her body
shuddering amid delicious spasms beneath him.

Titus thrust harder and deeper inside her, his own orgasm overtaking
him in a rush of dizzying pleasure. He exploded within her body with a shout,
wave upon wave of hot fluid bursting from his balls. He shook with the
intensity of his climax, his heart racing.

Slowly the pleasure faded and he rolled off her, pulling her into
his body until they lay locked together in a tangle of sweaty limbs. The scent
of bougainvillea floated through the open shutters as they drifted into sleep.

In the pre-dawn light, Titus crept from their bed and gazed down at
his beloved Octavia. Quietly he dressed and, being careful not to disturb her,
kissed her gently on the lips. She stirred and sighed, but didn’t awaken. “I
love you,” he told her again, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. His
heart heavy with grief, Titus left.

When Octavia awoke, she realised he had gone and she cried, her body
wracked with wretched sobs. She knew she would never see him again; she could
feel it in her heart.

She was right. Three months later, Titus was dead. A Gaul barbarian
cut him down from his horse and butchered him mercilessly.

* *
* *

For a moment, Malachi had forgotten who and where he was. The
powerful images from long ago gripped him and the unfamiliar feelings rocked
his core. It had been so long since he was mortal; he had almost forgotten how
it felt. The love and pain from the past life rocked his being and left him
feeling utterly disorientated.

Olivia stared out of the foggy window, into the darkening afternoon.
For a moment, she thought she had seen a dark-haired man staring intently at
her, but when she blinked, he was gone. She must have imagined him, she thought
with a sigh. Funny, though. He had seemed so real, almost familiar. But she
searched her memory in vain, trying to work out why she felt she knew him.

David coughed loudly, finally aware that he did not have her
undivided attention. She jumped slightly and apologised, feeling guilty for
ignoring him.

“I’m so sorry; I have an assignment due in tomorrow and its kinda
bugging me,” she said. “I think maybe I need to go and do some more work. Would
you mind if we took a rain check on this for now?” She looked apologetically at
him.

David frowned slightly but realised that he did not have much choice
in the matter. “No, of course not. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Maybe we
can do this again?” he asked hopefully.

Not a chance, Olivia thought, but she smiled politely. “Yeah, that’d
be great, I’ll call you.” Grabbing her book bag and the flowers, she dashed out
of the café and into the busy street, eager to escape as quickly as possible.

* *
* *

Malachi watched her leave, and on impulse followed her. He had no
idea why he felt so drawn, but knew he had to stay with her. Olivia walked
swiftly towards the tube station and jogged down the steps, her breath steaming
in the frigid air.

* *
* *

Olivia woke bathed in sweat and looked at the luminous dial of her
alarm clock – it read 3:18 am in neon green letters. She lay back and
rubbed her eyes wearily. The dream had been a particularly vivid one and the
last vestiges of it still floated fuzzily in her mind. She vaguely remembered a
terrible feeling of sadness and a villa with a stone water fountain in a
courtyard. The rest was hazy and hovered annoyingly just outside the periphery
of her consciousness.

The bedroom was freezing. Shivering, she jumped out of bed to the
bathroom. Her silky slip clung to her form as she padded across the worn
carpet.

* *
* *

Outside on the balcony, Malachi sat watching her. He had been there
for hours, motionless, his hair now white with a sprinkling of frost. This
wasn’t normal behaviour for him. He did occasionally watch individuals over a
period of time—because they interested him in some way—but to do as
he had done this freezing night was not normal. He found himself increasingly
slipping between the past and present, unable to differentiate betwixt the two.

Malachi knew his mortal past wasn’t meant to be entirely forgotten,
but it had never been so close to the surface before. Memories were
haemorrhaging through his subconscious at a frightening rate. It was unsettling,
to say the least. For some reason this strange phenomena had been triggered by
this girl and he needed to find out why. So he continued to watch and sift
through the memories.

* *
* *

The girl with the long dark hair sat waiting by the stream. The water
was teaming with silvery trout and she watched, fascinated, as the fish danced
and dived through the fast flowing currents.

“Sarah!” The voice came from a distance, carried on the warm summer
breeze, and she immediately jumped up in excitement. Harry appeared over the
crest of the hill, running fast through the meadow towards her. For a second
she smiled delightedly, but her smile faded abruptly when she saw the uniform
he was wearing.

“Well—do I look a handsome bugger or what?” He grinned as he
reached her, spinning around in a circle for her approval. Sarah looked him up
and down, and rather reluctantly agreed that, yes, he did look handsome in his
RAF uniform. Then she turned away so he couldn’t see her tears.

“What’s the matter?” he asked in surprise. “I thought you’d be
pleased for me!”

“Why would I be pleased to watch you go off to fight in this bloody
war and get yourself killed?” she retorted, her turquoise eyes flashing
angrily.

Harry’s smile faded as he realised how upset she was. “I’m sorry,
Sarah. You know I love you, but I have to do this. This war affects all of us
and I can’t sit by and wait until I’m drafted—I have to do my bit now.”

Sarah’s expression softened a little. She flopped down on the
cushiony grass and sighed heavily. “I know you do…I’m just afraid I’m going to
lose you.”

“Sweetheart, I love you more than anything in the world, and I
promise you I always will. I have another week before they ship me off for
training. I’d say that gives us plenty of time to get hitched don’t you?”

Harry reached into his breast pocket and pulled a ring out. Kneeling
down before her, he said gravely, “Sarah Patterson, will you do me the
considerable honour of becoming my wife?”

The tears welled up and leaked out despite her best intentions. “Oh
Harry…” She sobbed. “Of course I will, you idiot!”

“Charming!” He laughed. “Hardly the most romantic of acceptances,
but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers!” Gently he slipped the ring onto her
finger and kissed her passionately.

Sarah wound her arms around his neck. She deliberately chose not to
think about him leaving her to go and fight in a war in which he might be
killed. The thought was just too painful. He was too young to die. So she
concentrated her attention on the way her body was reacting to his touch.

They sank to the grassy floor and lay in the sun, kissing and
touching each other. Now that the war had intruded in their lives, everything
had subtly changed and suddenly there seemed no point in waiting to do the
things they had both been dreaming about for months.

Harry kissed her neck and stroked her leg under her skirt, gradually
edging higher and higher until she was on fire with anticipation of something
she didn’t fully understand.

“Oh please… don’t stop!” she gasped urgently.

“Sarah, are you sure?” Harry replied, tormenting her with his
teasing fingers. “I will stop if you say so.”

“No I mean it, I want you to touch me… there…” She didn’t know how
else to say it. She was a virgin; there had been nobody before Harry. Mary
James, from the village, had hinted that ‘it’ hurt, but she hadn’t elaborated
on what ‘it’ was, so Sarah was still none the wiser. At this particular moment,
however, she was in too much torment to care. Her breasts ached within the
confines of her brassiere and that place between her legs throbbed unbearably.
Instinctively she knew that if Harry would only touch her there, the torment
would cease.

He slid his hand inside her knickers and she gasped in shock. His
fingers fluttered lightly over her sex and she groaned at the pleasurable
sensations he was causing her to feel. She felt wet and slippery and he rubbed
firmly over that hard nub where the feelings were concentrated. Without
warning, an intense burst of pleasure crashed over her and she cried out, not
really understanding what was happening to her.

“Oh God!” she panted, her body alive with ripples of blissful
pleasure.

“Why thank you—but I’m not quite that good!” Harry grinned at
her, removing his hand from beneath her skirt and kissing her tenderly.

“What happened to me?” she asked in wonderment.

“You had an orgasm, my love.” He chuckled and pulled her close,
inadvertently causing her to feel his erection through his trousers.