Mistress of Rome, Book Three of The Emperor's Obsession (2 page)

"The answer is yes. You asked me, if I still want to be here, with you. The answer is yes."
 

He bent forward and his lips found hers, he claimed her mouth, slipping his tongue deep. She relaxed, her mind a blank, but her body instinctively stepping in, seeking relief. Suddenly he broke away and pulled back.

"It is not Saturnalia yet," that mischievous smile again. Myra grunted and looked up at him, this time not bothering to shield him from the furnace of her anger.

"Sana informed me that during the festival, it is accepted practice for a master to exchange places with his slave? Is that true?" she asked her jet-black eyes suddenly narrow.

"It is. Why do you ask?" the emperor said.

"In that case, prepare to suffer, Master," she replied and suppressed a giggle as she turned and swiftly left him, his mouth agape. "I think you need to learn what it takes to be a good slave."

He almost laughed when he heard the thud of the door as it slammed shut behind her back.

Since he had met Myra, Commodus had discovered it was increasingly difficult to control his thoughts. Especially in the girl's presence. The effect she had on him surprised him deeply. He had never before met a woman that was capable of casting such a spell. What made it all especially vexing was that it all appeared to be completely unintentional.
 

Almost two months before, she had agreed to come to Rome to be his concubine for one year just so that her young husband and younger brother had a roof over their heads and a bite to eat. Being with him was simply her way out of the gutter. No more, no less.
 

In fact, rather than relishing the opportunity to live in the imperial palace, to be the emperor's consort, Myra had at first actually appeared to despise herself and the life she had chosen. And yet, recently, he had noticed her blushing more, especially when she happened to see him. Often times, he'd look at her and notice she had been staring at him all along. Something had changed. He caught himself wondering whether she had developed feelings for him too.
 

Was it more than lust? He smiled to himself. There was absolutely nothing Emperor Commodus relished more than a good challenge in life. And by Jupiter, had he found one. He had to find a way to kindle her fires.
 

Chapter Two

THE VILLA

Imperial Villa, Northern Italy

It was almost dark when they arrived at the gates to the imperial retreat.

It was truly beautiful. Built so wide that it straddled both banks of a river, it had three levels oriented under an angle that allowed simultaneous views of the sea as well as the distant snow-capped mountain peaks on the horizon. It had taken Myra and her companion Sana, hand in hand, more than an hour to explore the entire estate.
 

Myra was no stranger to the finer aspects of imperial decadence.
 
When she was little her father would frequently take her to some of the more exquisite construction sites that he supervised. These visits had rapidly ingrained the young girl with a deep appreciation for the beauty and complexity involved in good architecture.
 

Myra easily recognized the exquisite craftsmanship and ingenuity that had been devoted to building this particular home. Nestled in the river gorge, she could tell that parts of the house were sheltered from even the worst weather, whereas others appeared to be designed for use in fine weather only. There were views of the valley but also views of the meadows and mountains inland. She could tell by the positioning that some rooms were set up to get the morning sun and others — the evening rays. There was even a roofed bathhouse which adjoined the gymnasium and the dining rooms.
 

The only thing missing, Myra observed, were fountains of running water but this shortcoming was more than compensated by the presence of at least three wells by which she could see arranged in neat stacks rows of amphoras waiting to be filled at a master's request.

When they had first stepped through the high arched portico of the first level, Myra and Sana had both gasped as they heard the powerful thunder of the mountain river as it tumbled and cascaded bellow their feet. They could feel it thunder and vibrate through the heavy granite rocks of the floor sending vibrations of energy through to their very core. It wasn't until they reached the third level of the structure, however, that the sheer beauty of the villa rendered them speechless. The staircase ended at a wide corridor of black polished marble with yellow veins of what appeared to be shimmering gold that contrasted nicely with the purple and black thread of the oriental rugs that covered the expanse end to end. Images of nubile water nymphs adorned the walls while a massive bronze statue of an unknown god sporting a disproportionately large phallus all coalesced into one ebullient sensual experience that at first rendered the two young women lightheaded.
 

Myra filled her lungs with the smell of fresh mountain roses and blooming citrus trees. How different this place was from her own life. It didn't take long to discover that they were just down the hall from the Imperial suite itself. Their own room wasn't big — just the right size that allowed a singsong echo of their voices to resonate from the gilded beams that supported the high ceiling. Up here the sound of the powerful river bellow was but a gentle murmur.
 

"My lady shouldn't act so surprised. Luxury is expected when one gives thanks to the Gods for their blessings," Sana said quietly as she combed Myra's long hair. "After all, when it comes to celebrating the winter solstice, Emperor Commodus is hardly the most extravagant of Rome's rulers.
 
He doesn't even come close." Myra swirled in her chair to stare at the lovely black woman behind her. She loved listening to Sana's guttural singsong accent when she spoke.

"Really? Not the most extravagant, huh?" said Myra.

"No, my lady. I've been told Emperor Nero had once turned the center of Rome into a lake. In it he had a boat full of nude women and men float around offering themselves to anyone that wished to partake of their charms," the black servant said a mischievous smile fluttering across her lips.

"And how is it you know so much about old Roman history, little Sana?" Myra asked playfully.

"Well, uhm…," the girl stammered.
 

Oh Fortuna, no! He told her. The little slut!
And then Myra felt her stomach constrict with guilt. Who was she to be feeling jealous? Feelings were not part of the deal. Especially not feelings of jealousy!

"Uhm, I was requested... Last night... He told me," Sana bowed her head.

"Oh..." Myra hated the sad desperation that somehow found itself into her voice.
 

"It was nothing. Really…,” Sana said. "Just a moment of passion."

"Nothing…" Myra repeated her voice hollow.
 

Sometimes she really couldn't stand her own whininess. Unlike most of her childhood girlfriends, her voice still retained a good measure of its girlish sound and intonation. Myra knew that all too often she sounded like a young girl. During times of passion, her husband Silvanus often told her how much he loved her voice's girlish impishness. It made him hard, he said; and that made her happy.
 

But sometimes she hated her voice. Myra especially disliked it when it melded so well with her natural desire to please and make those around her happy. Being evil might be bad, but she suspected that being overly nice actually hurt.
 

Her father's good heart and leniency towards transgressors and competition, coupled with his trusting nature had quickly conspired to turn their estate unprofitable and generated a mountain of debt. When he died less than two months ago, Myra had quickly concluded that safe for a miracle, nothing would be able to prevent her little family from sliding into poverty and then most probably servitude. Such was the Roman way — perhaps crime did not pay, but goodness actually seemed to cost.

Sana put her palms on either side of Myra's face and slowly turned her to face her.

"Milady, he told me of your history because he knows I would tell you. He misses you and that is why he asked for me... " Sana gently kissed Myra's eyes. First the right, then the left. "It is the way it is, Milady. He pines for you..."
 

Myra so wanted to believe the woman. But
why
would it be true?
How
could it
be true? He was the emperor of Rome. The most powerful man in the world —
the king of kings.
What did she have to offer him? She never considered herself attractive. Maybe pretty, but beautiful, gorgeous — these words had never crossed her mind when thinking of herself. Small, wispy little thing, her father had called her. How could the emperor pine for her?
What does he see in me?
Myra knew all too well that when it came to picking women, the emperor of Rome never suffered a drought. She still couldn't believe how she had ended up here.
A miracle!

Or a curse… The emperor's Majordomo, had materialized one early morning with a proposal. The offer was so simple and so compelling that Myra hadn't been able to refuse it. She still felt gooseflesh rise along her arms when she remembered its terms.
 

All debts would be forgiven, all property claimed by the creditors would be restored, her sick brother would be provided for and her husband wouldn't have to risk his life by joining the military. Only one thing had been asked in return — that she spend one year as his Imperial Majesty's personal concubine.
 

A shiver ran down Myra's spine when she remembered that first day of service — her
training
they had called it. She closed her eyes as a lonely tear escaped from beneath her long eyelashes. She took a deep breath. It all seemed so remote, as if her old life on her father's estate was but a dream, a fairytale she had once heard. It had all happened to another Myra, someone else, not her, not the woman who walked in her shoes today. She had passed through a door she would never be able to go through again. This first day of training had been the very best morning of her life and also her very worst…

And then she threw up. One instant, Sana was hugging her, caressing her cheeks, consoling her, the next she was running for the carafe of water and the washbasin.
 

"Oh, my Gods, Milady, did you eat spoiled meat!" Sana was up and by her side in an instant, applying a cold compress to her forehead as Myra bent over and retched.

Chapter Three

ROMAN PASSIONS

The eve of Saturnalia.

Imperial Villa, Northern Italy

The hot mineral water tumbled out of the golden spout into the effervescent depths of the pool. It smelled of honey and roses. Myra disrobed and stepped in. She had decided to spend the final moments before the onset of the festival enjoying the ornate bathhouse of the estate. Tiny bubbles attached themselves to the fine hairs of her olive skin causing playful tickles that sent ripples of sensation coursing up and down her naked skin.
 

A deep sigh of contentment escaped her lips and echoed across the deserted spa. She smiled to herself and relaxed. The small waves lapping against her body sent her consciousness wandering and she drifted off into a gentle nap.

Luckily her earlier discomfort had passed. Probably something bad to eat, had been Sana's conclusion and Myra hoped she was right. But now as she lounged in the hot mineral waters of the pool she felt a different kind of discomfort. She felt lonely. The emperor, as well as everyone else, had disappeared. Where to, Myra didn't know. Maybe off to race horses at the private hippodrome she had spied earlier when they had first arrived.
 

Myra imagined Commodus, semi-nude, a sheen of sweat glistening along his muscles as he rode a gilded carriage led by a team of twelve enormous black stallions galloping across the sands of the race-track. The echoes of hooves reverberating from the mountain slopes.
 

*****

The emperor reached and carefully drew back the curtain to the spa. A big smile crossed his lips. He could see her. Asleep. Her body gently drifted along the edge of the pool, its nakedness barely covered by the bubbly water. He stepped into the bath and took a long moment to inhale the purifying fragrance of roses as it mingled with the roiling clouds of steam. His heartbeat increased to that of a racing stallion as his eyes zeroed in on the petite naked form ahead. She was truly beautiful, a thin veil of tiny bubbles doing precious little to hide her figure. He felt himself begin to harden as he stepped forward, then knelt at the edge of the pool and guided the palm of his hand down and into the water.

As his hand brushed her silky smooth rib cage, her doe dark eyes slowly fluttered open and their gazes connected. She smiled, her lips gentle and swollen with desire.

"Master," she quietly said, "I was dreaming of you."
 

"Milady," he replied, upon his lips a flicker of mischievousness, “I'm here to serve you."
 

Myra's eyes fluttered wider and she sat up, "It is time then?"

"Indeed, Milady, the time is nigh," he replied barely concealing the eagerness from his voice.
 

During her solitude these last ten days Myra had learned a lot about the ancient festival of Saturnalia. It was a four day and night celebration of Saturn — the powerful sun-god, patron of Rome —
Sol Invictus
. One thing in particular, had excited her fertile imagination and sent her heart racing in fevered anticipation. Sana had told her that it was accepted custom that during the four days and nights of Saturnalia, slave and master would exchange places. The owner would dote and wait upon his slave while the latter would take the opportunity to indulge every whim her heart desired.

She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came as she gazed with longing upon her emperor. She gingerly lifted a hand and proffered it to him. Commodus took it and guided it around the thick muscles of his neck. Then he reached into the water and pulled her wet body out from the tub allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist until he gently put her down to stand beside him with the effortless movements of someone who spent all of his adult life either in battle or in the arena.