Once inside the private room, Maximus set me on my feet and pulled the curtain closed. The alcove was one of the curtained small areas Cassius always ordered to be set in the back of the tent where one of his famous parties was taking place. He liked to say that he took care of his friends' needs -- "of all their needs." he remarked emphatically -- and these cubicles were his personal tribute to those of them who -- unlike him -- preferred a little privacy when it came to enjoying their pleasures. Not that they were too private .... Heavily curtained on all four sides, the alcoves kept those inside from prying eyes but were far from soundproof. The one Maximus had chosen at random was sparsely furnished: just a couch, a small table and an oil lamp which meager light did not reach the far corners. With the curtain closed, we were nearly in the darkness.
Losing the warmth of his big, muscular body was like a slap in my face. I opened my eyes as I staggered and then bit my lip to avoid moaning, so much I needed his arms around me and the feeling of caring and safety I had found in them. But General Maximus seemed to have completely forgotten my presence as he fingered the fabric of the curtain and his eyes searched the alcove and those standing on either side, all warrior now and not the man who had kissed me passionately merely minutes ago.
The sudden change was disturbing but, seeing under this new light, General Maximus seemed even more magnificent than when he had turned around to face me for the first time. There was something absolutely male, something primal and arousing about him; it was like watching a beautiful lion silently stalking its pray or a majestic wild stallion surveying his territory. Ironically, I thought that probably not many women -- not certainly his wife - had ever seen him as I was seeing him at this moment.
His wife.
He had admitted his desire for me. Not that it was necessary:
married or not, his traitorous body had spoken by itself. Yet,
he had said that he intended to remain faithful to her, no matter
how hard it was for him ... There was something unsettling about
this austere, handsome man clinging so fiercely to his morals,
in the same way he clung to his loyalty to an emperor who was
said to be dead. No wonders Cassius was so afraid of him.
The silence stretched until it was unbearable.
I needed him to talk to me, to reassure me. Reassure me of what?
That he still remembered I was there? That his body still acknowledged
how much it desired mine? That I could be treated gently and not
only be used and discarded as the slave and whore I was?
"Maximus ...."
He silenced me with a finger to his lips and stood motionless,
listening, his head cocked on a slight angle. In the meager, golden
light I kept my eyes riveted on his profile as he remained listening
for few moments, his elegant nose slightly large but so patrician
despite his humble origins.
Then Maximus visibly relaxed, reached
for my hand and pulled me close to him, until my breasts just
brushed his chest. My nipples hardened into tight buds and liquid
fire rushed from them to my limbs and belly. "Very quietly
now, tell me what you know," he said.
I could barely breath, less speak. Suddenly, I felt strangely
shy and stood awkwardly in front of him, my hands at my sides,
wanting to touch him but afraid to do so. I couldn't remember
feeling that shy even when I was a little girl and had been forced
for the first time to attend one of Cassius' raucous parties.
I was sure he could feel my hard nipples through the thin fabric
of both our tunics and blushed as if I had been an untried virgin
facing her first lover.
Maximus prompted me again. "Julia,
tell me what Marcellus told you."
Hoping that the surrounding darkness was enough to hide my warm
cheeks, I sobered, remembering that we were in this alcove to
speak privately and not to share our bodies, our lives in great
danger. "He sends a warning that Cassius ..."
Suddenly Maximus took me in his arms and hold me tight against
him, pushing my face into his shoulder to smother my words. My
heart pounding painfully and my blood roaring in my ears, I grabbed
his arms for support.
"Stay very quiet," he whispered in my ear.
I shut my eyes tightly and wondered what he had heard. Then I
heard it too ... the sound of a curtain being drawn closed in
the alcove to the right of ours. Then all was quiet again except
for the sound of my pounding heart and my quick, panting breath
against his strong neck.
Maximus remained still and silent but he needn't say nothing for
I knew what he knew. Somebody was there, in the room beside ours,
quietly listening for our conversation ... or the sounds of our
coupling.
Maximus let out his breath slowly and whispered. "Quickly.
Tell me what Marcellus said to you."
I breathed deeply and repeated the message I have been given by
the senior tribune.
"Maximus, you are in great danger. Cassius plans to have
you killed and make it look like an accident. He thinks you are
far too powerful and that the army would support you against him
... that even his own men would."
"When?"
"I don't know. Soon."
"Go on."
"Marcellus believes that the only way to stop Cassius is
to kill him. He is willing to do it if you will protect him and
offer him immunity."
"How does he plan to kill him?"
"Cassius does not suspect that Marcellus is against him.
He allows Marcellus to get close to him physically ...."
"Shhhh...." Maximus tightened his hold again and I followed
his eyes to see what he had detected. Despite the darkness, I
saw it: a slight movement of the curtain and a tiny ray of light
slanted across the floor. Then, the light disappeared. Whoever
was spying on us, was getting either curious or impatient.
Maximus closed his eyes for a moment,
as if trying to decide what to do. Then he took a deep breath
and let it out slowly, opening his eyes again. His left arm was
tightly wrapped around my shoulders while his right hand absently
caressed my nape. For a brief moment I wondered what would he
say if I told him that, since we had met, his hands had roamed
my body more than once and as on their own volition.
"Julia, we need to make some sound. Some... passionate noises,"
he said under his breath.
Despite the danger we were both in, there was something deliciously
absurd about his words ... and the obvious effort he was doing
to voice them. I couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Then
you're going to have to make love to me, Maximus."
"No. I told you ...."
"Yes, yes, I'm just teasing. Don't worry, I can pretend.
It's something I do a lot, believe me." I rested my head
on his shoulder and closed my eyes allowing my breath to deepen.
"Can you listen to me while you're doing that?"
The question was so candid that nearly made me laugh and I briefly
asked myself what kind of woman was he married to that he knew
so little about females ... but probably his wife needn't pretend.
Instead of voicing my question, I nodded and punctuated my breaths
with a few gasps.
Maximus continued, "Tell Marcellus that I had planned to
stall Cassius until Marcus Aurelius got here but I have no idea
when that will be so the plan to kill Cassius is the only one
that makes sense."
I nodded again, producing a well practiced, husky groan deep in
my throat.
Maximus' own breathing started to quicken and I couldn't avoid
smiling ... or pushing him a little.
"Oh, General," I moaned. "Oh, do that again."
I moved my hips against his and he grabbed my buttocks, trying
to still my movements but I felt him hardening and he jerked his
hands away as if he had touched burning coals. I breathed his
masculine, musky odor and softly kissed the coarse whiskers on
his neck before escalating my breathing again ... but now I was
beyond all pretense and for the first time in my life my passion
was real, very real, a wet heat pooling between my legs.
Leaning against Maximus' muscled body, it was so easy to imagine his hands tearing my tunic, blindly searching for my bare flesh, his lips and tongue caressing my fevered skin. It was so easy to imagine his searing hot mouth crushing mine in a heavy, demanding kiss, then suckling my breasts as a greedy infant. It was so easy to imagine his strong arms lifting me and settling me onto his hips as he entered my body, sheathing the rock hard erection he was pressing against my belly inside me and to the hilt. My right hand sneaked around his neck and caressed his nape and his short, damp hair as my left clutched to his forearm, my nails digging in his heavy muscles, while I suckled and licked the heated skin of his neck, my breasts flattened against his heavily muscled chest.
"Julia, tell Marcellus to go ahead
with his plan and that I will give him the support he needs. To
do that, though, I must be nearby when he does the deed. It's
very important that he does it -- one of Cassius' own men -- to
show the others... Julia? Julia? Did you hear me?" whispered
Maximus, a touch of urgency in his voice.
"Yes...." I heard both of us as in dreams, unable to
bring myself again into reality, unwilling to bring myself into
reality. My body took complete control and I surrendered. In his
arms, I forgot everything: that I was a slave, that I was a whore,
that I had no life of my own but what my master decided it was
to be, that I was only a vessel for the others' pleasures, born,
raised and trained to be used and discarded. I forgot that I was
afraid, that I had been afraid everyday of my life. I forgot that
I was lonely, as lonely as it was possible to be. I forgot that
I hurt -- body, soul, heart and mind -- every single day. I forgot
that there was nothing for me -- no hope, no future, no happiness,
no love -- and gave myself completely to the man I was leaning
against. The man who wanted me as much as I wanted him. The man
who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his own needs.
He shook me slightly. "Julia, listen. I am guarded closely. It will be difficult for me to get away from my guards but I may be able to slip out at night with Claudius' help." I kissed his neck again, licking the hollow where his pulse throbbed as wildly as mine and moved my hips against his once more, desperate to increase the feeling of his hardness against my softness, desperate to feel what made him male against what made me female, desperate to reach the elusive wonder that promised to change everything forever.
Maximus took a few deep breaths, struggling
not to loose his control. He was mightily aroused, on the brink
of giving himself to the passion that was roaring inside me like
a fire. His hands tightened around me, hurting me. Then, in one
quick movement, he swept me off my feet and lay me on the couch
that creaked slightly in protest. For a moment, Maximus stood
beside the couch, facing me, breathing heavily, his blue eyes
blazing with the fire that was also consuming him. I extended
my arms to him, silently pleading him to come to me, on top of
me, inside me. I spread my tights, silently pleading him to take
me ...
He balanced on one leg and raised the other but, instead of getting
on the couch, he gently placed his knee high between my parted
thighs. I reached out to draw him to me. I was beyond shame, beyond
dignity, beyond everything but my own need, my need to have him
filling me to bursting and thrusting hard and deep and fast inside
my willing body. But he grabbed my hands, pulling them away from
him as he shook his head no.
Before I could voice my plead, he applied a little pressure against
my swollen flesh and I climaxed.
Brutally.
It took me completely unaware. Six years of whoring day after
day had not prepared me for this. I dug my nails in his hands,
arched by back and cried.
"Maximus!"
Spasm after spasm wracked my body, the sensation so acute, so
intense that it was pleasure as much as it was pain and I didn't
know where one ended or the other began. I only knew that I wanted
it to go on and on and on.
I fell back on the couch, utterly drained, exhausted, my body
bathed in sweat. I didn't notice my hands ease my hold of his
or when he removed his knee or left my side to quietly move to
the curtained door of the room, parting it slightly and peeking
out.
When I regained my senses, he was still
surveilling our surroundings. His profile was silhouetted against
the golden light. As I used my hand to remove the hair plastered
to my face, my eyes caught sight of his left arm. The lamp flickered
and I could distinguish the small tattoo inked on his biceps,
the SPQR I knew so well, the four letters the symbol of his promise
to serve Rome. My eyes roamed down his arm till I reached his
left hand where I found what I was looking for ... and was afraid
to find and look at: the silver ring that was the symbol of his
promise to the woman who owned his heart, his body and his faithfulness.
The woman who, for sure, had gone virgin into his bed and given
him sons to perpetuate his proud name. I sighed heavily, the weigh
of reality crashing over my battered body. "You're a strange
man."
I only noticed that I had voiced my thoughts when he dropped the
curtain and turned back to me. Maximus crossed his arms and allowed
his body to sag somewhat. Suddenly, he looked so very tired, as
tired as I was. "Really? How so?" he asked in a hushed
tone, his voice even more intoxicating in the hot darkness and
the emotional aftermath.
I rolled to my side to adjust my tunic and cover my legs before
explaining myself, "You're the only man I've ever met who
isn't concerned solely with his own pleasure." I looked at
him, his bulging arousal still clearly delineated through the
fabric of his tunic. I couldn't avoid grinning wickedly. "You're
going to pay for it, you know."
He rubbed a hand across his eyes, then around the back of his
neck, a gesture so genuine that I had to steel myself not to cross
the alcove and take him in my arms and comfort him as if he was
a weary child.
"I know. I just hope I don't have to get on a horse tomorrow,"
he said huskily.
I chuckled, aware that we were both embarrassed and unsettled
and reticent to voice what was in our hearts and minds.
My tone turned very serious. "I envy your wife. She's a very
lucky woman."
Maximus smiled. "I like to think so."
"I hope she's worth it."
"She is. I promised her...," his words drifted away,
suddenly aware that he was talking about something very personal
and private with a woman who had just climaxed on his behalf if
not beneath his body.
I didn't want to know. I didn't want to hear about her, about
him, about them. I didn't want to hurt myself but to clutch to
the heat and the passion I have experienced so recently. But I
also needed to go on hearing his voice, his deep, beautiful voice.
I needed to treasure that heated rumble in my memory, to comfort
me in the lonely, hopeless nights ahead.
"Do you have children?"
He smiled again his sweet, boyish smile and suddenly it seemed
like the weight of too many responsibilities and worries have
been lifted from him. "A son who's two," he said. "His
name is Marcus."
"After the emperor?"
"Yes."
I rose from the couch and approached him slowly, stopping just
before he was within touching distance. "You must think a
great deal of the emperor."
"I do. He's like a father to me. I lost my father when I
was young."
I was quickly reaching the limit of my strength, the turmoil inside
me impossible to master. I felt exhausted yet restless. I felt
satiated yet in desperate need. I felt warm yet I shivered. I
was loosing him and there was nothing I could do to keep him.
I sighed heavily and my eyes blurred with unshed, scalding tears.
I knew the answer, I knew I was going to be hurt yet I couldn't
stop myself. I looked into his eyes, my words hesitant.
"What you did to me... was it only because you had to?"
Maximus didn't answer. Instead, he said, "Julia, you'll find
someone someday. Someone very special."
My throat tightened. My words sounded strangled in my own ears
while I struggled badly against tears, "Maximus, I'm a slave."
"When Cassius is gone you'll have your freedom. You have
earned it and so have the other women," he said softly
Freedom? Didn't he know that I simply couldn't grasp what the
word meant? Didn't he understand that freedom meant nothing to
me in this moment because I had become a slave of other kind?
What could freedom mean to me now, that I had lost my heart to
a man who not only did not love me but loved another woman enough
to deny both of us what little we could have had, despite wanting
me as much as I wanted him?
He seemed to be waiting for my answer. I steeled myself against
pain.
"There's only one you, though. And you're taken," I
said.
"Julia, I haven't seen my wife in two years. Being married
to a man in my position has tremendous drawbacks. Olivia makes
incredible sacrifices ...."
Olivia.
He had said it and I felt as if he had slapped me. The elderly
senator had slapped me when, despite of my enslavement and training,
my twelve years old body had rebelled against subjugation. He
had slapped me. Hard. More than once. Somehow, the physical blows
had not hurt as bad as the sound of his wife's name.
"Olivia" I repeated.
Maximus pressed his lips together and looked away, obviously uncomfortable
to have voiced the name of his wife in my presence. Then, he anxiously
turned the conversation back to the business at hand. "Julia...
do you remember what I told you to tell Marcellus?"
"Yes."
"What?"
I closed my eyes. It was over.
I swallowed hard and repeated the message, once again no more
than an instrument to be used by men. "That you will support
him and that you need to be there when... it is done... but you
are heavily guarded. I assume you want him to tell you when, where
and how it will happen."
"Yes. And it must be very soon."
"He is to send a message through Claudius?" I asked.
"That would be the safest way."
Suddenly, the danger was very real and the idea of his death at
Cassius' hands struck me with the force of a vicious blow. I reached
my hands towards him. "Maximus, please be careful. Your life
is in great danger. Remember that," I pleaded. He didn't
move nor answer. I dropped my hands back to my sides.
He nodded. "I have to go. You've done well, Julia. Marcellus
was wise to have chosen you." Then, he swiftly pulled aside
the curtain and let it drop behind him as he stepped into the
main room without looking back, leaving me alone in the darkness,
the same darkness that had cooned my first ever real surrender
to a man.
I sat on the couch and hugged myself
as I had done when I was but a little girl, his musky scent filling
my nostrils, my flesh still swollen and throbbing. I closed my
eyes and tightened my arms, trying to capture again the warmth
of his body.
I failed miserably. I buried my face in my hands and wept like
I had never wept before.