The Gladiator's Touch Read online

  The Gladiator's Touch

  by Lauren Hawkeye

  Published by Lauren Hawkeye, 2013.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE GLADIATOR'S TOUCH

  First edition. June 24, 2013.

  Copyright © 2013 Lauren Hawkeye.

  ISBN: 978-0991916641

  Written by Lauren Hawkeye.

  Table of Contents

  The Gladiator’s Touch

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  About the author...

  The Gladiator’s Touch

  The scent of lust was thick in the air.

  As I descended the steps into the ludus, the training school for gladiators, led by Septus, the Dominus’ right hand man, nerves fluttered in my belly. Nerves, and also anticipation.

  I was to be given to Marius the Undefeated, a gift as he ascended to his new position as Doctore—teacher— of the ludus.

  The other gladiators jeered as I followed the male slave down the corridor of the men’s quarters. Comments on my breasts, my thighs, my lips showered down upon my ears, but I was not affected. I did not care what these men thought.

  I cared only for the man to whom I would belong.

  “Enter.” Septus gestured impatiently toward the room at the far end of the corridor, one whose entrance was covered with a heavy curtain of faded cloth. Unlike the other men, Marius had private quarters—he had earned them through his prowess in the arena.

  I was grateful that we would be hidden from prying eyes as he sampled my flesh and decided if he would have me for his own.

  “Gratitude.” My voice was soft as I spoke to the slave, who I knew did not care. He was already walking away, his mind back upstairs with the Dominus who treated him as a treasured pet.

  Slowly, so slowly, I drew the curtain open enough to let me into the room. The fabric wicked away the nervous sweat that slicked my palms, and I wished that it could absorb my apprehension, as well.

  “Come in.” I heard the words before my wide eyes located their speaker. I started, though I had known that he would be there, waiting for me.

  Casting my eyes to the floor, I clasped my hands in front of me, letting the long waves of my pale hair fall in front of my face.

  “I am sent by the Dominus, a gift for Marius the Undefeated.” I could not seem to speak louder than a whisper. Now that I was here, now that I knew what was expected of me, I trembled. This was a man who made giants and killers tremble, a man who had slain warriors and great beasts.

  What would he do with me?

  “You are Cassia.” I heard him approach, but did not look up. Heat warmed my back as he pulled me close to his hard frame, and I felt fingers sift through the strands of my hair. “I did not know who was being sent.”

  I shivered as those fingers grazed the side of my neck. They were rough, battle hardened, and scraped against my skin.

  “I only hope to please you.” If I did not, I would be beaten by the Dominus.

  Those hands travelled over my shoulders, measuring their breadth, then down to skim over my breasts. My nipples peaked and I arched into the surprising pleasure of the touch, but he continued his exploration of my body, tracing the curves of my waist, my hips, before travelling back up my frame.

  “Aah.” I gasped as Marius caught my throat in one of those massive hands and urged me to turn. I did, and only then looked at the gladiator straight on.

  I had watched him in the arena, in the training yard, but nothing had prepared me for the sight of him up close. His body was hard as the stones of the walls in this house, and his jaw and cheeks seemed to have been sculpted by an artist. His hair was cropped short, as were all the men’s, but was still messy, soft spikes of true black that I itched to run my fingers through.

  His eyes were a dark blue, sea blue, and were regarding me with curiosity and desire.

  “You do not need to fear me.” He squeezed, just the slightest bit, that hand that was still at my throat. “I see enough pain, enough violence in the arena.”

  “I... I do not fear you.” No, I did not fear him—he had no cause to hurt me. I was here to bring him pleasure and relief, hopefully more than could be provided by the occasional whores that were snuck in and that the Dominus turned a blind eye to.

  “I will never hurt you.” Releasing my throat, Marius loosened the ties that held my toga in place. The soft, light wool slithered down my body, awakening sensation as it went, and then I was naked, naked to the cool evening air and to the hungry stare of the gladiator.

  “I know you will not.” I was not sure why I trusted this man so—had I been given to any other gladiator, I would have been sick with fear.

  This man, though he was fierce and strong and could kill me without any exertion at all, did not frighten me. In fact, I felt safe, nestled here in his arms, safe from beatings and hunger and the whims of the Dominus.

  I was grateful to have even a moment in which I did not have to worry. I wanted to show my gratitude, wanted to thank this man for that gift.

  “I would have you sit.” My words were brave, and I did not know if he would take offense. Instead he appeared amused, the ghost of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

  “Then I would sit.” He removed his hands from my body, and I did not like the sensation. I wanted him to touch me again.

  “Would you have me undress?” Heat flooded my skin as his fingers strayed to the ties of his subligaculum.

  “Yes. Yes. I would have you in your skin.” His eyes darkened with want at my bold words, and my fingers curled into tight fists as his brief leather garment fell to the floor.

  Clothed, Marius the Undefeated was raw and beautiful. Naked, he appeared as a god. His body was sinewy, the frame of a man who used it hard every day.

  I wanted to touch him—his chest, his thighs, his shoulders, his arms. His cock—oh, I wanted to touch his cock, which had risen under my stare.

  He settled on the mat on which he slept, and gazed up at me with anticipation. Frank appreciation painted his features, and my flesh became swollen, my skin too tight.

  Dropping to my knees before him, I licked lips gone suddenly dry.

  “I wish to bring you comfort and pleasure.” My words were breathy as I lowered my head and tentatively placed my lips over the head of his cock.

  “Cassia!” His voice was shocked. “What are you about?”

  I giggled; I could not help it. It seemed that the man who had battled countless warriors could be surprised, after all.

  “I should think that would be obvious. I said that I wish to bring you pleasure, and I mean to do so.” I had performed this act before, but I had never before had any feeling behind the motions.

  I wanted to please my gladiator. I wanted to bring him to his knees, and know that I had done so.

  “Aah.” Rough fingers combed through my hair, pulling tightly as I scraped my teeth lightly under the ridge of his cock. He seemed to like it, so I did it again, then swirled my tongue over the very tip, tasting salt and man.

  Marius’ hips arched upward, into my touch, and then he groaned as he extricated his cock from the warm wetness of my mouth.

  “No.” I protested, but he lifted me as if I weighed nothing at all, and pulled me into his lap.

  “You are my gift, and I will do as I please with you.” His words were stern, but his eyes danced with mischief as he ran a hand firmly up the inside of my thigh. His fingers danced over the curls between my legs, and then two fingers slid into the slick channel of my cunt.

  “Aah!” I cried loudly, then bit my lower lip as Marius moved those fingers in and out, in and
out. “I—oh!”

  His laughter rumbled against my neck, the bristles of his beard scraping the skin and bringing it to life. “You are a responsive creature, Cassia. I enjoy that.”

  I responded loudly when he withdrew his fingers—cruelly, I thought—and pulled me off of his lap and onto his sleep mat. He placed me on my hands and knees, pinching my nipples and laying his palm flat on the curves of my ass once as he pulled back.

  “Marius!” I turned my head to look at him, found him with his cock in his fist. He grinned, pumped his shaft twice, then smacked my rear again.

  “You will stay facing forward, or I will not touch you again. Do you understand?” I should have been nervous, but instead found myself insatiable. I wanted his touch, more than anything I wanted his touch.

  “I understand.” I faced forward, cursing my long hair as if curtained my face, obstructing my view.

  “Good.” Moments later I felt the strength of his thighs, pressing against my own. His cock nudged the cleft that divide my ass, and I pushed back against his heat.

  “Patience.” Something coarse tickled the skin at the nape of my neck, then traced down my spine. Before I could discern what it was, the coarse object had wrapped tightly around one wrist, then around the other, restraining me.

  “This is rope, Cassia.” With no hands to support my weight, my shoulders and breasts were pressed against the coarse blanket that covered Marius’ bed. “Any time that you want to be freed, tell me and I will release you. Do you want to be freed?”

  I did not have to consider the question. I wanted to be here, with him.

  I shook my head vigorously, the blanket abrading the skin of my cheeks.

  “This is for your pleasure.” His hands clasped my waist, then traced the outline of my ass. I arched against him, pushing my flesh into his own, asking for more.

  “Still.” His fingers slid between my legs, again sampling my heat. I moaned, long and low, into the blanket.

  “Did you know that I have watched you, Cassia?” He moved his fingers inside of me, a slow swirl that made my knees seem to melt. I felt a sensation more delicious than anything I had ever felt begin to build between my legs, and all I knew in that moment was that I wanted more.

  “Wh—why?” He slid his fingers from my cunt, trailed them up between my cheeks and pressed against the pucker that lay hidden there. I pressed back against him as he slid just the tip of one finger into my tight entrance, stars showering in front of my eyes as my nerves began to explode.

  “I cannot truthfully say.” His voice was thoughtful—if a little breathless—as he moved that finger just the slightest bit. I gasped and moaned, all reserve having melted away under his touch. “I know only that as I trained, as I fought in the arena, looking up to the balcony and seeing you there gave me pleasure, and so I began to search you out.”

  Abruptly his finger pulled out of my tightness. Hands grasped my hips as, in one quick movement, Marius hilted his cock inside my cunt, a thrust with no warning.

  The sound I made as he stretched me to the point of pain was very nearly a scream. He pulled back, then thrust forward again. I bore back against him, wanting more of the pleasure/ pain.

  “I am glad that the Dominus you to me.” His grip on my hips tightened, and he began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out of my tightness, hard and fast.

  Pleasure built low in my belly, finally exploding when he reached a hand around my waist, fingers rubbing in a lazy circle over my clit.

  I screamed as I was flooded with bliss, thrusting back against him wantonly. Drawing back to sit on his heels, Marius pulled me back with him, his still rigid cock tight in my heat. My back was arched against his front, my breasts jutting forward when the last shivers shuddered through me. My cunt clenched around his cock as I came back to my right mind.

  “But...you...” I could not form words. I writhed on the lap on which I was anchored, incredibly still wanting more. “I have not pleased you?”

  He thrust up into me and I cried out.

  “You please me greatly, but I wish to please you yet more.” I struggled against the ropes that bound my hands tightly behind my back. Marius laughed again, that low chuckle that did something warm to my insides, and covered my breasts with his hands.

  “I have not paid proper homage to these.” Fingers pinched the rosy tips, rolled the hard flesh this way and that. I squirmed with need that was, incredibly, building inside me again.

  “Please!” I arched against him, wishing that I could touch his flesh.

  “Nor I have spent enough time here.” One hand continued to torture my nipple while the other dropped to my clit, circling the hard bud firmly, around and around.

  “Marius... I can’t. I can’t!” It seemed I could. My voice rose to a scream as once again I was sent flying. Before my shaking could stop, Marius began to move again, as well, thrusting up into me, his cock driving so deeply into my flesh that I felt as though we were one.

  He groaned and spilled his liquid heat inside of me as my shudders began to cease. I pressed back against him, rocking softly, trying to urge as much pleasure from him as he had given to me.

  We sat still for a long moment, sweat making our skin sticky and warm. I could hear my heartbeat as it thundered in my chest, and my mind was blissfully blank.

  “Lean forward.” Marius spoke softly, urging me forward until he could reach my wrists. Deftly he untied the rope that had restrained me, then massaged the skin that had chafed.

  “I am sorry for these marks.” Lifting me from his lap as if I were a child, he laid me on the bed, then laid down beside me.

  I arched a brow at him, causing that little smirk that I already loved to appear on his lips. “I am certain that you are many things, but I am not certain that sorry is one of them.”

  This drew a full laugh from the gladiator—from my gladiator—and I flushed with the pleasure of having found the humor in him. I found it more pleasurable still when he rose onto one elbow, leaned down, and kissed me on the lips—a demanding kiss, a kiss that claimed me as his own.

  Our first kiss, and one that I would always remember.

  When he again laid down beside me, he pulled me against him, my back to his front. He pulled my hair away from my face, knotted it at the base of my neck before nuzzling his lips into the delicate skin that lay there.

  “I am glad it was you, Cassia. I am glad that it was you.”

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  My Wicked Gladiators Excerpt

  Copyright Lauren Hawkeye 2012

  I did not want to want him.

  Yet as I stood on the balcony that overlooked the training area of my family’s ludus—the most prestigious of gladiator training schools—my husband by my side, want is what I did. I could see nothing of the mock battle beneath me but him. His sweat, his blood, falling down to the dry dust that ground beneath the worn leather that covered his feet.

  Never mind that I could never have him. Dreams of what his touch could bring me only increased the need that thrummed through my veins like flocking birds.

  “You’re quite flushed, Alba.” Lucius, my husband, touched a hand to my elbow and peered into my face with concern. “We should retire inside. Drusilla will draw a bath for you.”

  A bath . . . clear cool water, the thick silk of oils that smelled like herbs. The slither of limbs through water, and the sheen of dampness on muscles taut from incessant training.

  “Come.” I could hear the alarm in Lucius’ voice, though it was my slave girl, Drusilla, who moved to support me, not my husband. “Your skin is quite red. Inside. Now.”

  I alone knew the reason for my flush, but I certainly could not te
ll it to my husband. And actually, I was not the only one—there was one more who knew in what direction my thoughts lay.

  I caught the eyes belonging to that one, and their dense black seemed to swallow the golden gleams given off by the sun. My heart fluttered in my chest, like a young girl with her first feelings of lust, but his expression revealed nothing that was not there when he thrust his battered wooden training sword through the dense air.

  I knew that he felt it, too.

  And what kind of domina was I, imagining myself seducing a slave?

  Uneasy shame brought clamminess to my skin, and I stopped refusing Drusilla’s ministrations, allowing myself to be helped inside. Lucius followed closely behind, barking orders at the other slaves, though I could tell that his mind had already moved on, something to do with the ludus, no doubt.

  I could not complain, at least not out loud, at his lack of focus on me, his wife. Since my father had given me from his control to that of Lucius, Lucius was my pater familias, the head of this house.

  Much as our slaves had no choice but to obey us, I had no right to argue with my husband.

  And what would I have been complaining about, really? My belly was full, my body draped in silk and gold. The pool that Drusilla led me to was carved from bright white stone, and I could already smell the expensive oils that I could have rubbed into my skin, if I so desired.

  I stood still at the bath’s edge and waited for Drusilla to remove my garments. Lucius paced, raking a hand through his dark ribbons of hair before crouching to splash a handful of pristine water against the salty sheen on his face.

  When he again rose, I was naked. He let his sapphire gaze roam my bare curves, and the thin cloth at his groin tented.

  Still warm from the fierce stare of the other, the attention of my husband caused my nipples to peak and a shiver to roll over my skin.

  I so very rarely caught my husband’s attention. He preferred to take his pleasures quickly with one of the slave girls, women who did not require flattery or coddling. And since he had long ago decided that I was barren, there was no need for him to spill his seed inside of me unless he felt the desire to do so. To be fair, I also could have satisfied my cravings with any of the slaves that I desired.