Seduced by the Gladiator (20 page)

Her hair was arranged in a style so elaborate that it had surely taken at least two slaves hours to arrange it. Her eyes were lined with kohl, and her lips were ruby red.

Though I did not care a whit whom Gaius chose as his companion, something about this woman, about the almost cruel curve of her lips, caused an instant dislike to be born inside of me.

“Hilaria.” Beside me Christus jerked, as if in alarm. Somewhat amazed, I turned to look at the beautiful big man who stood beside me.

“Christus?” We had been warned not to speak, but I had never seen him so. His body was rigid, his bearing insanely straight, like that of a soldier. His skin had gone pale beneath the gold that training in the sun had teased out of it, and his hands had clenched into tight fists.

He did not appear to even hear me—his stare was fixed on the woman—Hilaria, he had called her.

Though his face was carefully expressionless, when I peered into the depths of eyes that were nearly navy, I saw barely restrained fury. Not an uncommon emotion for him, but strange that it should be brought out by a woman he could not possibly know.

Gaius chose that moment to speak, and I was forced to again face front, to look out in the crowd of people. The bright colors of their togas, the flash of their jewels—none of it seemed at all real to me.
They
did not seem real.

In turn, the strange creatures seemed incredibly interested in me, the lone female among the massive crowd of vicious men. Stares were plentiful, and I felt a blush wash over me when I realized that the frigid water had forced my nipples erect. They jutted against the clinging, damp leather of my top, and I saw several of the men eyeing me with lust in their eyes.

“Friends, we gather tonight to honor these warriors.” I very nearly snorted at Gaius’ choice of words. To honor us would be to leave us to our own lives, not to force us into a game in which all but one would die. “Tomorrow, the greatest games that Rome has ever seen will begin. These gladiators are the strongest, the fiercest. The most celebrated. They fight to please the citizens of Rome.”

Taking a cup of wine that Hilaria handed to him, Gaius drank deeply before saluting the crowd, who cheered loudly in return. “Before they fight, I feel that we owe them some pleasures. So this evening they will walk among you, they will feast, they will drink. They will be pleased and they will, I think, please you.” With a lascivious wink, he downed the remaining contents of his cup, then tossed it on the floor. Despite our admonition to remain silent, the men around me began to mutter with no small measure of excitement.

We would be permitted to partake in the feast? To drink, to be counted as equals among the patricians for the night?

The notion did not seem right.

But the gong again sounded, and Gaius gestured widely to the room, shouting at his guests to enjoy. His gaze moved unerringly to me, and I snarled in return. Turning to whisper in the ear of the woman at his side, he gestured in my direction. She smiled that strange smile of hers, standing on her tiptoes to survey the long line of gladiators.

Her eyes roamed over me, drinking in the details, and I could tell the exact moment at which she decided that I was beneath her notice. She looked on, looked beside me to where Christus still stood, his muscles still clenched incredibly tight, and I watched surprise wash over her features.

“Christus?” Hilaria’s mouth fell open a bit, and then she smiled wickedly, turning to Gaius to whisper something herself.

“Christus. What is going on? Who is she?” The line of gladiators still stood, a neat stripe at the front of the room, all eyes on us, and Christus shook his head, which I took to mean that he would tell me later. Then one brave soul, or perhaps a very foolish one, depending on how it was looked at, slowly, tentatively approached the line of gladiators.

I saw that it was the dark-haired woman from the small party at the house of my dominus, and I shuddered. The woman moved slowly, but unerringly, toward a man I knew only as the Beast.

He was the largest of us all, standing well over six feet. Though not particularly handsome, neither was he ugly, and I saw instantly where the woman’s intentions lay as she handed him her cup of wine, then took his hand in hers.

Oh, gods. This party was not meant to be a pleasure for us—or perhaps it was, for the Beast followed the woman eagerly enough—it was yet another opportunity for Gaius to gain favor, this time with the patricians of Rome.

Those with wealth were often bored. What could be more exciting than mingling with warriors who were so dangerous? Or eating with them, drinking with them . . .

Perhaps even fucking them?

“What a circus.” As I looked up at Christus, I was glad to see that he shared my thoughts. I supposed that I understood the eagerness of some of our brothers—not every ludus permitted visits from whores, and it had likely been years since many of the men had touched a woman. I would bet money that none of them had ever lain with a patrician woman, one whose skin had been waxed of hair, who smelled of expensive oils, and who wore jewels.

I did not want to be touched. Even if I had not belonged to Christus now, I would not have wanted to feel strange fingers on my skin.

“Come. If they are feeding us, then let us eat.” Christus appeared to be studying what was rapidly turning into a romp of pure debauchery, but I saw that his eyes kept flickering to where the woman Hilaria stood. In turn, she seemed to be ignoring him, but the positioning of her body, the movements of her head, suggested that never for a moment was she unaware of his presence.

Was she . . . could they have . . . jealousy began to simmer in my blood as Christus pressed a hand to the small of my back and nudged me into the crowd. I went, because in among the sea of bodies, we would not be so much on display.

I forced away the strange sensation—never in my life had I been jealous, and now was not the time to start. Besides, what I feared was impossible—Christus was a gladiator, a slave. He had been so for a very long time. Never would he have had a chance to fuck a woman noble enough to be Gaius’ public companion.

Christus nodded once, some of the stiffness leaving his shoulders as the crowd swallowed us up. “We need the strength for tomorrow. You especially.” His mood lightened now that the eyes of Hilaria and Gaius were not fixed solely on us, and he smiled down at me and even dared to cup his hands around my waist briefly.

I scowled, but I did not mean it. In truth, his touch made fire burn inside of me. I wanted to touch him, to run my hands over his bare chest.

With the epic Battle of Gaius on the horizon, I did not know if I would ever be able to again.

Christus saw the heat in my eyes, and flame ignited in his own. He banked it, let it smolder a dark blue as he led me to a great table where platters of enough food to feed an army were arrayed.

“You will eat.” Taking a plate in hand, Christus began to pile it high with items that I had never before seen. Other slaves stood by the table, and described the items that we did not recognize, which were many.

Chicken with mallows and some kind of fowl with corn and cress, pork sausage with olive relish and veal crusted in mustard—I had never in my life tasted any of these. A great salad of cucumber, carrot, and cabbage glistened in the dim light, something that was more familiar to me, as were the stone platters full of mashed pumpkin and turnips.

My stomach growled and at the same time warned me that it did not want food, so unsettled was it with nerves. I whispered this to Christus, but he ignored me and added a handful of almonds and walnuts to the plate.

“The others are busy expending their energy right now.” Holding the plate with one hand, he gestured with his other to the side of the room. I followed his stare, grimacing at the spectacle that greeted my eyes.

On a great pile of cushions, the dark-haired woman who had first approached the Beast lay on her back, her legs splayed wide, her knees on either side of the Beast’s head. Her toga was around her waist, her breasts jiggling with the force of every hard thrust of the man inside of her.

Not far away, a blond woman with rubies at her throat, her ears, and to my astonishment, clamped over her nipples, rode a gladiator that I did not know. She leaned over him fully, her hands on the floor, her breasts dangling in his face, allowing another warrior to spread the cheeks of her ass and take her from behind.

Though I found the sight so strange, at the same time, it made wetness grow in my cunt. I was very aware of my lover, standing so closely to me, yet not touching me.

Casting a glance over to the head of the room, I found Gaius’s eyes fixed on my small form. Rather than shuddering or running away, as I felt he wanted me to, I stared back, defiance written plainly over my features.

Hilaria was not by his side. Pulling in close to Christus, I stood on my toes and scanned the room for her. I found her much closer than I had anticipated, and it sent a jolt through me. The beautiful patrician stood by the copulating couples, watching with unabashed fascination. Her cheeks were flushed with what was clearly arousal, and she made no secret of the looks that she repeatedly sent Christus’ way.

Christus turned, saw what I did. His jaw clenched with tension, and he did not return the woman’s slow, seductive smile.

She scowled, and began to move toward us.

“Lilia.” Lacing his fingers through my own—a bold move—he replaced the plate on the table and pulled me away from the lust-fueled reverie. Casting an anxious look back over my shoulder, I saw that Gaius had momentarily turned his attention elsewhere.

Hilaria had not. Within moments she was at our side, though I seemed to be invisible to her, for her attention was focused solely on my lover.

“Christus.” Reaching out with a hand adorned with jewels, the woman trailed one long finger over his cheekbone. Though I felt every muscle in his body tense, my warrior did not flinch away.

I understood in that moment that this was the woman who had abused him, the one who had made him so able to understand my own fears.

If I had had a sword, I would have killed her in that moment.

“Christus. You will come with me.” Lifting her hands to her shoulders, Hilaria undid the fastenings of her toga, loosening the fabric until it fell to her waist and her beautifully sculpted breasts and torso were bared.

Christus’ stare did not even flicker. Clasping my hand tightly, he inhaled deeply and looked the woman in the eye.

“No.” He shuddered as he spoke, and my heart wrenched as I realized what it meant to him to say so.

“What did you say?” Hilaria’s face darkened, cruelty twisting her features. I squeezed my lover’s hand, trying to give him strength, understanding that he needed to do this.

“I said no.” On any other day, Christus could have been killed for refusing the demand of a patrician woman. Today, however, he had power. He was needed—we all were needed—for Gaius’ epic battle.

And the threat of death meant nothing when it was highly probable that we would die on the morrow anyway.

“You will come with me.” Hilaria hissed out the words, leaning in close until her spittle dampened Christus’ skin. When her anger did not break him, she molded her face into a seductive mask.

“Don’t you remember how it was between us?” Her words were a throaty whisper, and Christus shuddered, but not, I knew, with pleasure. “I was so hot for you. So tight. So wet.”

I thought that Christus might simply turn and walk away. Pride flooded through me when he continued to stare down this woman who I now knew was the ghost that haunted him.

“Once, I was not able to say no to you.” He fixed his lips into a sneer, and Hilaria’s smile slipped a bit. “Now I can, and so I will. No.”

Turning abruptly, he crushed me in his arms and half hustled, half carried me away into the throng of people. I laughed, caught for a moment with delight at his boldness.

As I pressed a kiss to my lover’s cheek, I saw Bavarius, bent over the back of a plush-looking couch. I could not see his face, but there was a man pressed up against his naked behind, a patrician man dressed in an expensive toga, with long dark hair.

I felt nothing for his predicament, though perhaps I should have.

“Quick.” At Christus’ word I ducked behind a curtain, a heavy fall of cloth that appeared to have been placed where it was for no reason. It shielded us from the prying eyes of the rest of the party, however, and I inhaled deeply at the knowledge.

Within moments we both became aware of the purpose of the curtains. Mere feet away from us, invisible to our eyes, came the unmistakable sounds of pleasure . . . the low grunts of a man inside of a woman, the breathy pants of a woman being taken by a man.

In the cocooned space, alone with Christus, the sounds teased wetness from between my legs. My nipples contracted against leather that was still damp, and I bit my lip, looking up to meet his eyes.

“We cannot.” Placing the plate that he still carried on the floor, sliding it away, he nevertheless placed a hand on either side of my waist. His hands were warm against the chill of my skin, and I shivered.

“I know.” No, we certainly could not, not here, where we could be seen by anyone. The other gladiators might have had an inkling by that point, a hint of the relationship between Christus and me, but they did not know for certain.

What they did not know, they could not use against us.

“Christus, what was Hilaria to you?” Though proud of him for standing up to her, I still wanted to know about his past. And though I had never been one to be jealous before, the thought that he had had a relationship of some sort with the woman before set me on edge. I pictured the noble woman’s rosy flush as she watched the gladiators and her peers fucking in the open, remembered the avidness of her stare when she had first seen and recognized Christus. I found that it was suddenly important for me to know.

The muscles of his jaw clenched, and I watched him deliberately soften them as he looked down at me. “I do not wish to speak of her.”

I was stung, and defensively I shrugged, then moved to leave the security of the curtain. I hesitated when I remembered that Gaius and his ever-watchful eyes were on the other side.