Beast of Caledonia (5 page)

She began to relax just a little until she felt his tongue
stroking her nether lips. “Oh, blessed Venus,” she whispered with the little
breath left in her body. She had never known such pleasure was possible.
Annachie’s tongue probed inside her and her honey flowed out around his mouth.
She thought again she should stop him, for surely a man would not want to taste
such a thing, but her body wouldn’t let her. She felt as if she were floating
above the bed, out of that stark cell, and soaring to the stars in the night
sky.

“Sara,” he mumbled against her sodden curls, “I cannot wait
any longer. If I hurt you, I am sorry, but I need you now.”

“Yes, please, Annachie, please.”

He rose above her and positioned his body between her legs.
Taking hold of his phallus, he guided it to the opening of her passage. Then he
pushed, but stopped when Sara gave a short squeal. “Forgive me, my little love,”
he whispered. Then he pushed again, harder this time, and Sara felt the thin
membrane of her maidenhead give way.

Sara’s strangled cry stopped him. For a moment, she feared
he would pull out and leave her. Instead, he lowered his body until he rested
on his elbows and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her eyes that poured
tears. “I am sorry, so sorry. I had no wish to hurt you, but it is the way of
it when men and women join. The pain will ease, I promise. Forgive me.”

He stayed very still while she adapted to his flesh inside
her. From the strained expression he wore, Sara thought it must have been
difficult for him. She loved him even more for that.

“You think I am crying because you hurt me?” She hurried to
reassure him. “Oh, Annachie, my beloved, I was crying for joy. It-it hurt a
little at first, but now it is wonderful. I have wanted you for so long, wanted
you inside me.” She took his sigh of relief into her own mouth as she pulled
his head down for a deep kiss. She tasted her moisture on his lips. “Is that
how I taste?”

“You taste so sweet.” And with that, he began to move back
and forth, deep inside her passage and out until he almost slipped from her.
Soft, moist sounds came to her as her honey eased his way.

The pleasure built until Sara thought surely she would die
of it.

“Forgive me,” Annachie said, “but I cannot last much longer.
I promise the next time will be better, but now I must—
Ahh
.” With a loud
cry, he threw his head back and pushed as far inside her as he could. Sara felt
his seed bursting forth, bathing the soreness of his initial entry. For just a
moment she was again overcome with a feeling of panic, knowing the possible
consequence of her actions this night. But just as quickly, a calm settled over
her.

I have wanted this for so long. Yes, I would give up my
life for this one night in his arms. But, oh Blessed Venus, let it be more than
just one night.

They spoke little, content to simply look at each other and
touch each other, give sometimes gentle and sometimes hungry kisses. Despite
Sara’s protests, Annachie refused to take her again, saying that she would be
too sore from the first time.

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

“I have to tend the fire in the temple tomorrow night, and I
cannot risk leaving too often. In three days? Will they let you come?”

“If you have enough coin to pay Bato they will.”

Although the night was still black, they both knew that dawn
was fast approaching. “I must be back at the temple before daybreak.”

Annachie nodded, then smiled. “Just as it used to be, aye?”

* * * * *

Even from as far away as the stable, he heard her screaming
with a nightmare, and the night after that, she came to him again. This time he
heard her enter the stall in which he was chained. “Sara, what is it?”

“May I stay with you tonight, Annachie?”

“Oh, little one, if your father finds you here—”

“He won’t. I’ll go back before the household wakes up. I-I
am so afraid of the dark. But I don’t think I will be as afraid if I am with
you.”

He knew he should tell her—no, make her—go back to her room,
but he didn’t have the heart to do it. Even if her father killed him for it, he
would never send Sara away, especially when she needed him.

He held the blanket up and she lay down on her side, her
back to his front. That was all Annachie remembered until he felt her stir as
the sky began to lighten to a dull gray. She left him without a word, thinking
perhaps that he still slept.

Despite the warmth that lingered where she had lain, his
pallet felt cold and empty.

* * * * *

“Yes,” she replied. “Will we ever get to see a sunrise
together?”

Chapter Four

“Ho, Micah. Will ya look at that!”

Annachie peeked through slits in his eyes, wondering what
was going on. The young slave turned at the sound of the Germanic gladiator’s
gruff voice. Rolf pointed to Annachie, who leaned back against the stone wall
surrounding the gladiator compound. “What about him?” Micah asked.

“He’s smiling. The Beast is smiling.”

At Rolf’s words, Annachie’s smile widened.

“She was good, eh?” the big German asked.

“I do not kiss and tell.”

“Ah, come on. The last matron I had was so hot for it, she
drained me dry. I couldn’t fuck for two weeks afterward. Her husband was some
shriveled up old senator and couldn’t keep her happy.”

“Our Lord says the vow of marriage is sacred,” Micah said, “and
if you break that vow, you will burn in Hell.”

“I was not breaking it, she was.” Rolf replied with a laugh.
“And if I go to Hell, at least all my friends will be there with me, right,
Beast?” Rolf nudged Annachie in the ribs.

Annachie opened his eyes for the first time since the
conversation began and glared at Rolf. Then he turned to Micah. “Who is this ‘Lord’
you are always talking about?”

“Our Lord is the one true God, the one we worship. About one
hundred years ago, He gave His only son to die for our sins.”

“What kind of man would sacrifice His son for strangers?”
Annachie asked.

“But we are not strangers. We are His children.”

Annachie shook his head. “You confuse me, Micah. You say he
had only one son, yet you Christians are all his children. That does not make
sense.”

Micah opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Bato
called Annachie for practice. He watched the boy limp away, his twisted foot
slowing his gait, and wondered again about these people whom the Romans
persecuted so severely. They seemed to be a peaceful sect. Why then were the
Romans so afraid of them?

* * * * *

“Sara?”

“Yes, Mother Sylvia?”

“You are smiling. In the all the years you have been with
us, I have never seen you smile.”

Sara of course could not tell the chief Vestal why she was
smiling. “I was just remembering an enjoyable time I had with my family.” She
felt slightly guilty lying to Mother Sylvia. But she felt less guilty over the
reason why she lied.

Yet, in a way, what she had said was true—she considered
Annachie her family now. He was her husband in every way, even though the
priests had performed no ceremony. And the time she spent with him had
certainly been enjoyable. She felt the moisture pool in her womanly passage
every time she thought about it.

Two more days and she would see him again. Two more days…and
two more even longer nights.

The third night finally arrived. As soon as the cell door
was closed and locked, Sara flung herself into Annachie’s arms.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He yanked up the material of her gown and bunched it at her waist. With one arm
beneath her buttocks, he reached under his tunic and grasped his hardened
shaft. He positioned it at her opening and pushed, driving himself into her
until the head of his phallus touched her womb. Sara cried out as a slight pain
took her by surprise, but before she knew what was happening, her crisis hit,
even though Annachie had hardly moved inside her. Her pleasure triggered his.
He grunted and pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. Still inside her,
he carried her the few steps to the bed. Sara wished it were farther away; each
step he took sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through her.

When he pulled out of her, the feeling of emptiness almost
made Sara cry. But she knew the night had only just begun.

As he sat her on the edge of the bed, Sara unclasped his
belt and removed his tunic. She could not wait to feel his flesh against hers.
She threw the rough cloth into the corner of the room, leaving him naked except
for the boar’s tusks necklace. He had worn it earlier that day when he fought
in the games. She had heard the whispered comments around her in the stands, as
the spectators marveled at the size of the tusks and wondered what the
significance of the necklace might be. She had hidden her smile, enjoying the
secret she and Annachie shared.

He lifted her gown to her shoulders and pressed against her.
Sara quickly shrugged out of the bunched cloth and flung it aside. New
sensations engulfed her as her breasts pressed against his muscular torso.

His hands began to explore her and his lips followed. Sara
felt as if her body would ignite with each kiss and caress. Her honey, mixed
with Annachie’s cum, already poured from her by the time Annachie reached her
mons.

“Oh, Sara.” His voice sounded strained. “My little love, I
cannot wait. I must have you again. Please, say you are ready for me.”

“Yes, Annachie, yes. I cannot wait either.”

With no further delay, he thrust into her. She felt a slight
pinching, but nothing like their first joining. Then he began to move and there
was only pleasure. She met him thrust for thrust, her hips bucking beneath him.
They peaked together and, as if he had no strength left, he collapsed on top of
her.

He must have known he was too heavy to lie on her, for he
quickly turned onto his side, taking her with him. They cuddled in each other’s
arms as their breathing returned to normal. He pulled her hair aside and kissed
her neck.

“So you are a priestess now?”

“Yes.” Sara silently prayed he would not ask her anymore
about her life as a Vestal.

“What of your parents, are they well? I suppose your mother
is very glad to be back in Rome, is she not?”

“She was glad. She always complained about the weather and
the cold in Caledonia. We were only in Rome six months before she caught a
fever and died.”

“Oh, Sara, I am sorry.”

“We were not close, as you know. I never could seem to
please her.”

He nuzzled her ear. “You belong in Caledonia. I wish we were
there and not here.”

“As do I.” She moved back slightly so she could see his
face. “Would you go back there now? Surely your father would be proud of you, a
famous gladiator.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he said, “Aye, he
might. But it does not matter. I am a slave, trapped.”

“Have you tried to escape?”

“At first I did but the more I tried, the closer I was
watched and the tighter they chained me. So I gave up trying.”

“I am a prisoner, too, but I am chained only by my honor.”

“That can be a stronger bond than iron. And it should be.”

For a moment, Sara felt guilty. She lied, she had no honor.
She had broken her vow of chastity, and she knew that if Annachie said the
word, she would leave everything—the temple, Rome, even her father—and go with
him to Caledonia or to the far corners of the world, whatever he asked of her.

They lay peacefully for a time. Sara thought she might have
dozed off for when she opened her eyes, she found that Annachie too seemed to
be asleep. His chest rose steady and even with his deep breaths.

Sara was glad. She wanted to feel his body the way he had
felt hers, but she was afraid he would think her too forward. So she took this
opportunity to explore. She caressed his back lightly, tracing the paths of the
scars left by her father’s soldiers that long ago day in Caledonia. But that
brought back too many bittersweet memories, so she let her fingers wander
lightly down over his tight buttocks.

He groaned and she felt his flesh begin to harden against
her belly.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said.

His deep chuckle vibrated under her ear. “A touch such as
that could wake a dead man.”

“You do not mind?”

“Mind?” He took her hand and placed it over his hardening
flesh. “Does this make you think I mind?” Then he bent his head to hers and
took her mouth, parting her lips, his tongue dueling with hers in passionate
combat.

She raised herself up and leaned over his chest, pushing her
fingers into his thick curls. He brought her the rest of the way so that she
lay atop him. “Annachie, what are you doing?”

“You know how to ride. I watched you ride around the army
compound at the wall. Let me be your mount. Ride me, Sara.”

He pushed her hips back and lifted her slightly until she
felt his hard shaft beneath her. She was still wet from their previous joinings
and he slipped easily inside her. He kept his hands on her hips guiding her at
first until she found her own rhythm. Then he sat up, crossing his legs beneath
her, and took one breast in his mouth while he tenderly fingered the other. A
surge of hot pleasure shot to the heart of Sara’s womb and she came with a strangled
cry.

Her muscles squeezed him tightly and that sent Annachie over
the edge. His seed shot into her in hot waves. She fell forward onto his chest
and his softening flesh slipped from her passage.

“Annachie?”

He was still trying to recover when Sara softly called his
name. “Aye?”

“May I continue to touch you?”

He was tempted to laugh, but the serious and shy tone of her
voice stopped him. He did smile, however. “You may touch me as much as you like.”