Centurion's Honor (Imperial Desires, Book One) (10 page)

“In that case.” She embraced him in a warm hug. “Thank you, Claudius.”

Claudius departed shortly after, taking with him a burden of worry she’d carried around since she’d risen to find half of her livestock dead. For a moment she felt as if she could breathe, that was until she turned around to meet Cassius’ dark stare.

His eyes said it all—as soon as they were alone he would deal with her, though she’d done nothing wrong. Yet she was certain he would punish her, nonetheless.

A shudder raced through her, and she had to bite back a moan. What it said about her that she welcomed such punishment, she did not know, but neither could she stop the pulsing heat that wound its way through her.

She headed inside on her way to the baths, but stopped when Olivia appeared before her, already bathed and dressed in fresh, clean garments.

“Yes, Olivia?”

“I have returned to escort you to the baths,
domina
.” Ah yes, any other time, Olivia would help bathe and dress her, as was the case for any Roman woman of wealth.

Anan’s gaze unwittingly darted over her shoulder at Titus, then Cassius, the latter of whom practically brimmed with anger and impatience to get her alone.

“That will not be necessary, Olivia.”

The young girl nodded, but Anan did not miss the scarlet blush that stained her cheeks as she gave the two centurions a furtive, curious look of embarrassment from over Anan’s shoulder.

In many ways Olivia was wise and mature, but on other matters, especially ones of intimacy, the girl was as innocent as any other and it was times like these when Anan was reminded of just how young Olivia truly was.

Olivia turned to leave, but Anan stopped her with the gentle touch of her hand against the girl’s wrist.

She looked up at Anan with topaz eyes so open and full of trust that Anan was forced to sigh as she took a step closer to the girl so that Titus and Cassius would not hear what she had to say.

“I have made no secret of my plans for you, Olivia,” she whispered, “which is why you must abandon this childish infatuation you have with Claudius Ovidius. With your dowry, you will be better suited to a nice young man—a wealthy farmer, is my hope.” Anan recalled the rumors she’d heard of Claudius then, of the ways in which he bedded a woman. Claudius had revealed as much to her in the past. He did not hurt his lovers, at least the pain was not malicious or sadistic, but neither was he a gentle lover. He was kind and generous, but nice wasn’t a word that came to mind when she thought of him. He was certainly not the right man to usher a young virgin into womanhood. “He is far too old for you.”

“Yes,
domina
, I know that he has affections for you.”

Anan could not manage to keep the scowl from her face. “You are wrong. Claudius Ovidius and I are friends and nothing more, but no matter his affections, even if they were toward you, I would still advise against this.”

“Because he does not find me comely?”

Anan decided it was wise not to tell her he’d called her beautiful and instead told her the brutal, honest truth. “Because he would hurt you, Olivia.”

Olivia’s eyes flickered, but Anan could not be certain of what emotion she’d glimpsed in her warm brown gaze—disappointment, disbelief?

Anan could not be sure.

With a curt nod, Olivia dismissed herself and turned to leave.

This time Anan let her go as she watched Olivia disappear into the villa.

She was certain she’d done the right thing in warning Olivia off, not that she’d truly needed to. Claudius had no interest in Olivia, but Anan believed that was only so because Olivia was not yet a woman, not yet wealthy, not yet free.

Anan wondered if Claudius’ opinion would change when Olivia changed. She more than wondered, she worried that it would. And if it did, Olivia’s infatuation for him would lead her to entangle herself with a man she was not skilled enough in the ways of love and desire to handle, a man who would only break her heart.

Chapter Eight

“Olivia is besotted with your friend Claudius,” Cassius said as soon as she entered the baths.

Her back was to him and Titus as she stuck her toe into the warm water of the bathing pool.

“I am aware of that,” she remarked, though he’d not asked her a question.

“Claudius seems to be taken with
you
instead.”

She let out a long, weary breath. She and Claudius flirted, nothing more, there had never been more, there never would be.

“You are mistaken. Claudius and I have only ever been friends.”

She could almost hear the frown in his voice when he spoke, but still she did not turn around.

“He is quite handsome.”

Anan finally turned to meet his gaze. With a shrug she said, “I really hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

She bristled. “
Yes
,
he is handsome, that is obvious to all, but I have never been attracted to him, and the same is true for Claudius of me. We have only ever been friends.” Her lips thinned as her brow furrowed into a frown. “Is this how it will always be between us? A man smiles at me, touches me, and you hurl insults at me out of jealousy?”

One dark brow lifted above deep blue eyes and that was when she realized what she’d said, what she’d implied.

She spun around before either man could glimpse the blush that now flooded her cheeks.

What she’d said, what she’d implied—as if this was anything more to them than easing physical lusts, as if she meant more to them than just the lover they now enjoyed on this military duty, when on the next they would simply find another.

She could not believe her mistake. She’d spoken so foolishly, without thought.

“Yes,” Cassius whispered beside her ear, his body pressed against hers as his hands wandered beneath her tunic to push it upward. “Yes, I’m afraid this is how it shall
always
be between us. I am a jealous man, a possessive one. That I share you with Titus is enough.”

She did not speak, for she could not as he eased her now naked body into the pool.

What he’d said, what he’d implied—she did not wish to dwell upon the greater meaning of it.

No matter the stirrings in her heart for both men, it was foolish to think beyond this moment. They were soldiers who could be called away at a moment’s notice, who could die in the moment after that.

It was foolish to think beyond
this
moment, but Anan’s heart was stubborn, the yearnings of her body seemed equally intractable.

She had not experienced passion until Titus and Cassius had come into her life. She’d not experienced desire at its purest.

Anan did not want to give that up, did not want to give
them
up, but she did not think she would have a choice in the matter, and neither would they. They were soldiers who would one day be commanded to leave, who would be happy to be gone from these barbarian lands, it was simply a matter of
when
they would go. She knew she was not enough to hold them there, to hold them there with her. And yet, if by some twist of fate she was wrong, that they wished to remain, Anan was wise enough to know they would not be allowed to stay. After all, they’d been sent to Siga against their wishes, she knew that much.

“Something troubles you,” Cassius said from behind her, and Anan jerked in surprise. She’d been so deep in thought she had not realized he’d entered the pool as well, that his naked body was now flush against hers.

She spun around but did not speak. She could not admit her fears to them. They would think her desperate, they would think her a fool for reading more into something than there was. She looked away, unable to bear the heavy weight of his searching gaze.

Yet she had no other choice but to stare at him when he cupped her cheek with his hand and lifted her chin. “But you will not tell us,” Cassius said on a heavy sigh. “You still do not fully trust us, you still do not fully understand.” His eyes narrowed. “But you shall.”

That raised her brows. “Understand? Understand wha—”

He halted her next words with a single finger against her lips.

Her heart skipped a beat at the heated look in his eyes, full of desire, and something else?

Waves lapped against the marble tiles along the sides of the pool, breaking the silence, as Titus slipped into the water.

Cassius never did answer her. He never did tell her what it was she needed to understand.

That nagged at her until he brought his lips to hers and she forgot everything, for the moment, she even forgot how to breathe.

Cassius held Anan within the circle of his arms, his lips sealed tightly to hers, his tongue plundering inside to taste her sweet nectar, the pure feminine essence that radiated from her.

Anan’s wet, naked curves against his flesh, softened against the hard muscled planes of his body, yielding to his strength, to his dominance. The contrasts ignited a primitive awareness within him and the blood in his veins pumped through him like a hot geyser until his insides burned with molten fire.

His hands found their way to her cheeks, his fingers gentle against her skin. He deepened the kiss, his tongue going deeper. With his body he sought to convey what she did not seem to understand, what even he did not seem to understand himself.

He abruptly ripped his mouth from hers, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and he stared down at her.

These emotions she invoked, Cassius had only felt them once before. His gaze found Titus, who stood behind Anan. With the nod of his head, he gave Titus permission to touch her.

And when he did, when the three of their bodies were connected, every part of them entwined, he felt a rightness in his heart, all the way to the depths of his very soul.

A tremor raced through him at the knowledge of what all this meant. This one woman had the power to hurt him, to hurt Titus. He trailed a finger along her cheek, across the full softness of her lips. When she sighed, her breath warming his fingertips, he could no longer deny the truth.

He settled his mouth against hers again, in a kiss that warmed every inch of him, that inflamed every part of him. It was a foolish, reckless thing to do, for all their differences made it an impossibility to have a future together, but no longer could he deny that Anan was a part of them, she owned a piece of them now. Was it love? He could not say, nor could he speak for Titus, or Anan for that matter, but neither could he pretend that his heart did not beat faster when she touched him, when her gaze found its way to him.

When she looked at him, smiled at him, it was as if the sun shone only on him, as if the heavens favored only him.

Yes, this was a foolish, reckless, dangerous thing to do, but one was powerless against the needs of the heart.

Anan clung to Cassius, her hand twisting in the wet locks of his hair. He kissed her with a desperation, an urgency that bespoke of more than a kiss, more than just the physical yearnings of his body. He kissed her as if his soul was tortured, conflicted.

She wondered again of what it was she was supposed to understand. She wondered if the way he kissed her had anything to do with it. Because if it did, she already understood, and she understood well, the yearnings, the demands of one’s needs that were at odds with one’s mind, their very sanity.

This was a foolish thing to do, to open herself to these two men, two Romans, two soldiers—her enemies. They would only hurt her, leave her. Yet she could not force herself to stop, to deny them, to deny her.

Titus’ hand against her hip broke through her thoughts, his lips against the crook of her neck effectively bringing an end to all her musings.

What she shared with these men was forbidden for so many reasons and in so many ways, but when they touched her like this, with tenderness, with longing, she could not find a reason to protest, to deny what felt like perfection.

She gasped when Titus snaked his other hand around her body to settle it between her legs. His fingers speared her and she arched into him, her entire being quivering, shaking with need. Pleasure hammered through her, hot and pulsing, warming her to the core until she was damp, until Titus’ fingers were coated with her slick wetness.

Cassius drove into her mouth with his tongue at the same time Titus pounded his fingers inside her.

Both men claimed her, stamped her with their brand of dominance, their mark of possession.

Her climax did not come upon her as it normally did, the building of waves of pleasure inside her until it crashed upon her. Instead it hit her, a sudden bolt of lightning slicing through her, searing her. Anan clenched her eyes tight, her nails digging into the rough hard flesh of the two men who held her trapped between them.

Her pleasure shook her, dragged her across coals of hot fire until she was panting, until she was spent.

Cassius released her lips and drew back. The look brimming in his eyes told her she may have been spent, but she was not yet done, far from it.

She found herself being guided to the edge of the pool, her hands splayed flat atop the tiles. Her body was bent over, her legs splayed wide. Water sloshed against her as Titus climbed out. And when he knelt before her, his knees atop the edge of the pool and his rod in his hand, every nerve ending within her tingled to life all over again.

Cassius stood behind her so she could not see him, but she imagined, like Titus, he held the thick length of his cock in his palm, stroking it slowly until a tiny droplet beaded at the opening, proclaiming the intensity of his arousal.

Titus’ free hand wrapped around the back of her head, tangling in her hair at the same time one of Cassius’ hands settled along her hip.

She realized then their intent. They would take her at the same time, Titus filling her mouth while Cassius filled her sheath. The thought of it was wicked, erotic and she trembled in anticipation. Yet the thought was incomparable to the exquisite pleasure of Cassius stretching her cunt at the same time Titus brushed his cock against her lips before plowing inside.

She gasped around hard flesh, then groaned at the pleasure-pain of Cassius’ rod being buried to the hilt inside her, stuffing her channel full and deep.

All she could feel was cock. Her very existence seemed to be centered upon cock—the thrusting, pounding rods of the two men who pummeled inside her, who filled her.

Her head bobbed as she swallowed Titus’ shaft on long, deep strokes at the same time Cassius shoved his way inside her. With each thrust, Cassius forced her mouth deeper upon Titus until she was taking him all the way to the back of her throat.

She did not look up, but the way his hand fisted in her hair, the shudders racing through his body, she imagined Titus’ face was drawn tight, the muscles of his chest, his abdomen were taut as he hovered at the brink of pleasure, wanting to find release, but not wanting it to come so soon.

Her own pleasure, which she’d found only moments ago, roared to life, reverberating through her entire being until she was trembling. Cassius’ hands, one of which had been teasing the tiny nub at her juncture while the other hand still gripped her hip, both now climbed along the length of her body to cup her swaying breasts.

He kneaded the soft mounds as he plucked at her stiff nipples. His thrusting cock rammed harder and deeper inside her as if toying with her breasts excited him unduly. His breath was now harsh and ragged as he plowed into her from behind, the heavy sac of his testes slapping against her dripping slit. Water sprayed across her face as Cassius quickened his pace, his strokes now wild, his rhythm uneven.

Cassius was close to coming, and when Titus began pumping erratically into her mouth, his thrusting length bruising her lips, she knew he was close as well.

Titus came swiftly as he clutched at her hair, his cock twitching inside her. He let out a long, hoarse shout that echoed against the walls as he shuddered against her, holding her in place as he poured his seed into her mouth on thick, spurting jets.

She swallowed every drop of him down her throat until he was soft and flaccid, but she did not release him, nor did he pull out of her. She suckled on his flesh, her tongue whirling around his length.

While Titus was now soft inside her, Cassius seemed to be hardening, his cock growing thicker, larger.

His hands tightened around her breasts in a desperate grip as he pounded against her, his turgid flesh driving deep until he shattered against her.

Cassius thrust inside her one last time, burying himself deep. Warmth filled her as he spurted inside her channel on a ragged groan and she clenched her muscles around him, sucking out every drop of his seed until he gave a lewd curse and collapsed against her back, spent, defeated.

It was a long while before either of them possessed the strength to move, and when they finally did, they quickly bathed and dressed and set about their duties for the day. But when they were done, they returned to Anan’s chambers where they succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh again and again until darkness fell and they were forced to sleep out of pure exhaustion.

* * * * *