Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle (59 page)

The Gladiator

The sound of swords clashing has always filled my stomach with a mix of fear and excitement. Fear, because I know I will see blood today, see men torn to shreds by wild beasts from the orient, see them beg for their lives and sob like newborn babes. And excitement because, as much as I hate myself for it, I love to see those gladiators, magnificent specimens of men, destroying one another. Their bodies, their muscles, they glisten in our unflinching Roman sun. Their sweat runs off them in rivulets and I can’t help but find my nether regions filled with delight, with lust, as I see their muscles work hard, their tendons stretch and strain in mortal combat.

My name is Abeba, daughter of the Nubian nobleman and diplomat-in-residence attached to the Roman senate, Kashta Axum. I have passed eighteen summers now and, as my father says, I am become a woman.

Not that I feel like a woman. Not that he treats me like a woman. I am still confined to my father’s house, to the women’s quarters, where I sew and play the lyre and trade stories with my sisters and our handmaidens. We go to the market once a week with Lephora, the slave woman tasked with keeping us out of trouble. And that’s it. Otherwise, my life is an endless parade of tutors hired by my father to teach me to be a suitable wife—from them, I learn how to run a household, how to order around servants, how to speak politely and intelligently to my future husband. I also learn, once a week, how to please a man. My father hired a Frankish woman, a former slave and now owner of one of the largest brothels in Rome, to school me in the arts of satisfying men…

There is one other aspect of my life, of course. The fights—the gladiatorial spectacles held every Saturday in the Coliseum in the center of Rome. Everyone who’s anyone in Rome attends them—there’s no other way to see and be seen here, especially for young women.

My father especially loves the games. He’s a rich man, a former senator back in Africa, who has more or less retired. He owns many farms outside of the city but he doesn’t even bother to visit them anymore. His only occupation in life, now that my mother has died, is buying and selling slaves to fight in the arena. He wins and loses fortunes weekly, betting on the games and winning prize money on behalf of his fighters.

Maybe you’ve heard of some of them—there was Alpinus, the huge Frankish beast, covered in hideous scars and tattoos, who was undefeated for over sixty fights in a row before my father gave him his freedom and command of his own personal school for gladiators. Then, there was Longinus, a disgraced centurion whose military precision and ruthless efficiency led him to victory in twelve engagements, all in successive weeks, before finally the emperor himself, determined to see a man who had broken his oaths die, ordered him to face a squad of twelve Scythians all at once. Longinus distinguished himself even there, dispatching seven of the Scythians before succumbing himself. My father could only watch in silent bitterness as he watched his invest collapse on the dusty field, gutted like a fish and crying crimson tears of blood.

“Abeba!” I heard my father’s voice ringing through the halls of our villa. I looked up from my sewing. I am not very good at sewing, so I was delighted to have any opportunity possible to escape my studies. My father burst into my chambers, a grin on his plump old face. His toga was all disheveled and he was clearly excited.

“You must come see the gladiator I have just purchased!” he announced, beaming. “He’s… He’s truly magnificent. He’ll fight this Saturday, and every Saturday after that, I imagine.”

I allowed myself a little smile. My mother’s death was hard on my father and I was glad, I suppose, that he had found something to take his mind off the sorrow.

“Go collect your brother and meet me outside! You absolutely must see him!”

I sighed as he dashed out of my room. Quintus. My poor brother. Born Kush, he took a Roman name when we came here, though his black skin proves to everyone his ancestry. He hates this brutal white man’s pastime, the gladiatorial battles. You see, he has never had any interest in the fights. I enjoy them, at least, but he hates them. He hates the sight of blood, the screaming, ruthless crowds. He hates to see anyone or anything in pain. He hates especially seeing all those handsome, beautiful men die. My brother is… Well, he is fond of what we call “Greek love.” That is, he finds men more beautiful than women. No one particularly cares but he is already fourteen and it won’t be long before he is expected to take up more manly pursuits. He’ll be expected to start whoring, to start betting on fights, to run a farm and go hunting. He’ll hate it all, of course. He would much rather write poetry with Theolon, his Egyptian slave boy and also his lover.

I found them together, entwined as always, in my brother’s chambers. Theolon sat on Quintus’s lap, stroking his light brown curls.

“Dear sister, salve,” said Quintus, removing his lips from Theolon’s neck. Theolon blushed and bowed his head.

“Mistress,” he said softly. I was fond of the delicate, beautiful young Egyptian, and I hoped my father would let Quintus keep him even after he must take a wife.

“Salve,” I replied. “Father wants us downstairs. He wants to show off his newest acquisition.”

My brother’s face fell.

“Oh, gods. Are we to be forced to watch another poor wretch be brutalized at the hands of other poor wretches?”

“I’m afraid so,” I said with a shrug. I didn’t want to admit that I perhaps looked forward, if only somewhat, to the coming bloodshed…

The three of us made our way downstairs and out to the front of the villa where the slave dealer was unloading his merchandise. There were half a dozen rather boring looking fellows, filthy and wild-looking but otherwise scrawny. They were nothing my father would get excited over. But then, I saw the man in the back of the cart, almost completely covered by his chains…

He rose to his full height, which had to be nearly seven feet tall. He was naked except for his chains and as my eyes roamed over his hairy physique, savoring his bulging pectoral muscles, his powerful gut, his arms which looked like they had been forged from bronze, I couldn’t help but let my gaze drift lower and lower… His member was enormous, even flaccid. He had to be half-horse—not only was it massive but it looked especially strange, as if it were somehow sharp and swollen at the same time…

“Here’s the beast!” my father roared with delight as the huge man stepped off the cart.

His handsome, bearded face was bowed before us, a blank look obscuring his features. I glanced at my brother and I saw him fixated on the huge warrior.

“Ursinus,” said the slaver, an oily, tubby man dressed in little more than rags despite the bulging bags of coin affixed to his belt. “An odd name for a slave, isn’t it? The bear… The great bear-man of the North! Captured by our centurions running wild in the forests of Germania. They were going to execute him when I found him, but I thought to myself, why destroy such a fierce animal when we can make some money off him first?”

“Absolutely,” my father nodded, his face ruddy with approval. “And… He can turn into a bear?”

“So they say!” the slaver laughed. “So they say! The centurions swear by it, claimed that he had torn the throats out of fourteen of their finest before they subdued him. I’ve not seen it myself, of course…”

“Well, he’ll show his true form, if it’s to be seen,” my father said with a grim smile. “That, or he’ll die.”

As they chuckled over Ursinus’s fate, I couldn’t help but feel bad for the warrior. His only hope was to win in the arena, win enough times that he could win his freedom.

But they would never allow such a fierce, terrifying looking man such as him to continue winning. The rabble would want to see him lose, want to see him slaughtered, and so they would throw more and more warriors at him until he finally fell to their blades.

Gloom had stricken my brother’s face and Theolon’s was impossible to read. I was suddenly very conscious of how I must look. I was wearing only the light robes I wore in the house, and they left very little to the imagination: my breasts and curves were readily apparently through the light, almost translucent toga. In fact, I realized that the slaver and Ursinus could probably see my nipples pressing against the fabric and maybe even the soft patch of dark hair between my legs… Or maybe they would focus more on my dark curls, piled atop my head in the popular style of the moment? Maybe my naturally dusky, almost rosy cheeks? Unlike so many other girls, I didn’t have to crush roses into a powder and apply it to my cheeks to give the appearance of good health. Maybe they would notice my round face, my plump, crimson lips, or my dark hazel eyes?

But no. They seemed to notice nothing and for this, I was glad. My father continued to laugh and joke with the slaver, prodding Ursinus with a stick he had found somewhere along the dusty rode. I saw a dark look of resentment pass over the big man’s face and his upper lip curled ever so slightly, revealing a fanged canine tooth. My heart stopped when I saw that tooth, for his eyes met mine. They seemed to glow in that moment and I felt his eyes passing over my body, drinking me in. I felt like he was devouring me in that moment, hungrily nibbling at my flesh and preparing to consume me whole. I flushed. I felt warm, a warmth I had never experienced before, and one that emanated from my very core, spreading throughout my entire body…

Night

It was warm that night and I left the windows of my chambers open. As I fell asleep, I dreamt of the bearish man who was chained up outside our villa, probably sweating in the dust. I fantasized about going down to him, letting my toga slide off my body and standing just out of his reach, allowing those hungry eyes to devour my flesh all over again. I would tease him, frustrate him, whisper to him that I was a virgin, that no man had ever touched me before. I would work him up into a frenzy until he pulled free from his chains and took me…

I heard a clatter on the sill of my window. Usually, I’m a heavy sleeper but for some reason, this roused me. My eyes fluttered open and I saw a huge bear, pitch black, padding along the floor of my bedroom. My mouth dropped open but I was too shocked to scream. The bear leapt into the air and landed heavily on my bed, nearly collapsing it under his weight.

He smelled of sweat and blood and fear and I trembled as he straddled me. He growled, his gaping, toothy maw only inches from my face, saliva dripping from his fangs. His eyes seemed to glow, exactly in the same way Ursinus’s had… Could it be? I hit upon the realization with a start and as soon as I whispered the word, the change in the bear’s face told me I was right:

“Ursinus.”

Slowly, the beast began to transform. The snout shrunk, receding into a human face while the beast’s shoulders broadened. He grew longer and some, though not all, of the coarse animal hair receded. It only took about thirty seconds before I found myself pinned beneath a very human and very naked Longinus.

I knew what I would see if I looked down but I couldn’t help myself. His tool was huge and erect in the moonlight, pointed directly at my womanhood. I felt my insides clench up in fear and excitement. Was this really happening? There was no way…

“You can’t do this,” I whispered desperately. He pulled the light sheet away, leaving me only in my silk night robe.

“If your father expects to enslave me, I might as well take some price from him,” Ursinus growled. This was the first time I had heard him speak. I was surprised he knew Latin.

“But… If you can escape your chains, why not run away?”

“I could never get over those walls. Your father has sentries and besides… Being here means three meals a day, so long as I kill for your father. And it means I can take my pleasure in his daughter whenever I want, apparently.”

I swallowed hard. The thought of being a toy, at this beast of a man’s whim, both terrified and aroused me. I felt my inner thighs growing wet and warm…

“I’ll scream.”

“If you do, I’ll kill you.” As if to demonstrate how easy it would be, he grasped my robe with one hand and in a single, swift motion, rent it from my chest. I gasped. My breasts were bared before him, my dark nipples erect under his gaze.

He lowered his mouth to my right breast and his long, lupine tongue slithered out from between his lips, wrapping around my nipple. I shivered. Gods, but it felt good. He knew how to use that tongue of his, he did. He lapped at my dark nipple slowly, his glowing eyes never breaking contact with mine as he serviced me. My breasts weren’t as big as some of my friends but I was proud of their size, their shape, the way they sat high on my chest, and I hoped he noticed. I found myself hoping that he liked them… Could I ask him?

“Do you… Do you like my body?” I whispered, fidgeting beneath his tongue. Whatever he had expected from me, it wasn’t this.

“Your body?” the bear growled. “Do I like your body?”

I nodded. “Do find it… Pleasing?”

“Most certainly, my lady,” he said with mock formality. “Jupiter honors me with such a bounty.”

I scowled and rolled my eyes.

“No, I mean… Surely you’ve seen other girls. Am I prettier than them? Am I the prettiest you’ve ever been with?”

Ursinus let out a short, hard laugh that was a bit too loud. He looked surprisingly sheepish as he sat back on his massive haunches, his huge cock still straining and pressing against my belly.

“You’re a delicate flower and I look forward to plucking you.”

“I don’t want poetry, you ass,” I hissed. “I want to know your honest opinion!”

“You’re a saucy one. A man breaks into your room, announces he’s going to have his way with you, and all you want to know is how your body stacks up against his other conquests. I’ll never understand women.”

“I still haven’t gotten my answer,” I said, covering my chest. “I want a sincere, honest answer. Then you can do what you will with me, but not before. I shan’t allow it.”

Of course, I was in no position to be making demands or ultimatums. Nonetheless, I sensed he liked this game. I sensed he enjoyed this back and forth, that he enjoyed my naughtiness and cheek. And I enjoyed that he enjoyed it.

“You’re a gorgeous one, you are. The northern girls are all brawn and boobs but you… You’re like a delicate oriental vine, one I’d like to wrap around my cock,” he whispered. His face drew close to me and I smelled the cheap wine he had probably been given with his dinner. “You’re the most beautiful girl who’s ever had me in her bed. That’s for sure.”

“But not the most beautiful girl you’ve ever had in your bed?” I needled him. He laughed.

“I don’t often have a bed, so it’s a moot question, as far as I’m concerned. Now, if it please the mistress of the house, might I continue to lick your little rose buds?”

I flushed and slowly slid my arms away. He hesitated before returning to my breasts and pressed a hot, hard kiss to my lips, conquering my tongue. Our mouths dueled and he defeated me almost immediately. I was his toy and he molded me with his mouth, doing with me what he would, whatever he desired. He teased my tongue, nibbled at my lips, and I melted with him in return.

He kissed down my neck, nibbling on my flesh and suckling as he went. I sighed in delight and wrapped my arms around his powerful shoulders. He was so large that I couldn’t even join my hands behind his back. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel once he was inside of me…

Again, his mouth captured my nipples and I let out a delighted sigh, my hips involuntarily pressing up against him. He grunted as my cloth-clad crotch rubbed against his huge bear cock.

“You’re getting more enthusiastic, mistress,” Ursinus growled into my breast, his teeth tearing at my hard flesh. I could only whimper in response as he tore away the rest of my toga, leaving me completely naked. He spread my legs wide, my wetness and stickiness slipping open for him. I was sure he could smell my scent, my flavor hanging in the air, and I noticed him become noticeably more excited, hungrier, as he spread me.

But he restrained himself. I could tell his muscles were straining, demanding that he take me right then and there, that he pound into me and fuck me hard, make me scream and cry and sow his seed in my womb, but somehow, he resisted the animal urges. He kissed and nibbled down my breasts and down my sensitive belly. I shuddered and giggled as his long tongue slurped over my belly button, over my tender flesh.

He kissed ever so slightly lower with each passing moment and my heart beat faster and faster. That magnificent bear’s tongue slid around my crotch, passing over the patch of soft dark hair crowning my sex and down into the crease between my legs and my pussy. I whimpered as he lapped and licked at my inner thighs and I pressed my hips up and into his mouth, as if urging him to bury his face in my hot sex.

“Please, take me… Take it…” I whimpered.