The Barbarian's Mistress (15 page)

Lara knew that many Greek Temples had been converted for use by Roman Gods. But this one would have required too much work to repair, and the town was too small to have enough devotees to fund it. So the Romans had left it to decay, taking from it pieces of marble as they fell away.

In the evening they all played games, even Daria joining in. They laughed until they cried, especially when Lara impersonated famous people. She couldn’t help remembering how Vali had laughed when she’d dressed up as a ghost to shock him. Back then his laugh had been restrained. Now he let it out, and it was infectious.

As the evening progressed, and the wine flowed, Daria asked them about their life. In turn, they made up their fictional love affair as slaves belonging to different masters in the same town. They told how they had their master’s affection and been awarded their freedom, and Vali his citizenship, so they could marry and manage his master’s estate in Pompeii. Now there was no estate and they had to wait to find out what their next actions should be. A missive from their patron would come by the end of the week, they assumed. Then they’d know what they would do.

Lara liked the way Vali described how he had seen her in the forum for the first time, when she was no more than a child. And he had loved her then. He’d waited for her to grow up, and when he felt it was right, had approached her.

‘Little did he know,’ Lara said, breaking into Vali’s monologue, ‘that I’d been watching him for years too, frustrated and annoyed because he kept his distance. I thought he was shy, or stupid. I’d just about given up on him by the time he came over to make my acquaintance.’

They all laughed at the idea of Vali being shy or stupid.

‘And you scowled at me and said “About time!”, and I didn’t know what you meant.’

‘Men can be slow about matters of the heart,’ Daria added with a soft smile on her face. Her aging body seemed suddenly young again, as she remembered her courting days.

‘Darius didn’t think he was good enough for me. My father was a wealthy merchant in Herc
ulanium. Not a citizen, just a pleb, but a wealthy one. Darius was a fisherman, and we met when he brought some crabs to our door. Word had it that father would pay top price for good crabs.

‘I still remember his face when he first saw me. Like he’d been hit by a fish on the back of the head. I couldn’t get a word out of him that made any sense for at least five minutes. It took him weeks of bringing those crabs around, before he could string a sentence together. But he was such a big, hulking lad with a handsome smile, I didn’t much care what he said.

‘Of course, my father didn’t think he was good enough for me, but I insisted. And so we married and moved here with his family. My father died not long after. And Darius died last year. His fishing boat was caught in a storm.’

The woman rose quickly to her feet and headed into the kitchen, mumbling something about checking the stove fire was banked for the night. Lara and Vali exchanged compassionate looks. Quietly they rose, and headed for bed. The sad story had infected them both.

There was no question about wearing or not wearing clothes that night. Lara pulled off her tunic and undergarments while Vali stared out at the bay. When she was in bed, he removed his tunic and slipped into bed beside her. Without thought, Lara snuggled in to his side, barely noting the way he stiffened.

She slipped into sleep easily, lulled by the steady, thundering beat of Vali’s heart. But she was brought to wakefulness again sometime later when she sensed his body tensing and felt the slight movement of his hand beneath the sheet.

‘What are you doing?’ she mumbled sleepily.

He became still and made an attempt to relax. ‘Nothing. Go back to sleep.’

‘Have you got a cramp again?’

‘Cramp?’

‘Yes. You were rubbing yourself last night, and seemed in pain. Is it bad again tonight?’

He groaned and made to shift away from her. She held on. ‘W
hat have I said that’s so wrong this time?’

‘I have no cramp, Lara my dear wife. My rod is hard and aching because you insist on sleeping naked with your seductive body pressed up against mine. I’m simply relieving the pressure. It works for a while.’

‘I don’t understand.’

He swore foully and grabbed her hand, brought it under the sheet to where his loin cloth was pulled away from his arousal. Frustrated, furious, he placed her hand on his length, and moved it up and down, groaning as he did so.

‘Do you understand now? That wants to be inside you. But it can’t be, so I have to give it something, anything to make it leave me alone for a while.’

He took his hand away and tried to shift to his side away from her. But she clamped her hand around his thick rod and refused to move.

‘Let me go,’ he snarled, trying to pull her hand away.

‘No. If you hurt then let me help. I can do it, what you were doing. I can do that.’

He stayed still for a moment, panting. Then he relaxed back into place. ‘Don’t blame me if you don’t like it. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it properly. A little advanced education that your future husband, whoever the bastard turns out to be, will surely appreciate. Although how you learned it, he most definitely won’t appreciate. Too bad.’

He yanked the sheet down off both of them and for a moment Lara felt exposed and vulnerable. But knowing this was wh
at he wanted made her stay strong. He undid the loincloth so that he was exposed to her. In the bright moonlight from the open window she could see the heavy fullness of him, so different from her body.

She reached out and ran the tips of her fingers down his length, from tip to balls. Vali groaned and his hips gave a convulsive jerk.

‘Sit astride my thighs just below… my balls.’ He swallowed hard and she felt him trembling.

Obediently, she arched her left leg across his thighs and seated herself on the hard, thick muscles there. He took her hands and placed them, one on top of the other, around his girth. Swearing softly, he flattened himself against the bed for several seconds, his fists clenched against the mattress. She watched him in fascination. Was this pain he was feeling? Why would he want her to do this, if it hurt? But then her mother had taught him a lot about pain and pleasure, so maybe this was what he meant when he said he did things that he enjoyed, but that made him feel sick.

‘Am I hurting you?’ she asked tentatively, loosening her grip.

‘Gods, no. It feels so good. Too good. I don’t think this will take long.’

‘What?’

‘This… you’re going to make me release. And it will look like I’m in agony, but I’ll be feeling pleasure… lots of pleasure. Don’t be shocked, but it will erupt like Vesuvius and this molten cream will pour out, spurting out like a fountain. Are you still sure you want to do this?’

She nodded her head, and looked down at what she held. It pulsed in her hands and was as soft as a horse’s muzzle. Soft and hard. Powerful and yet vulnerable.

‘Can I touch…’ she started, taking the lowest hand away and indicating with her finger the soft sacks beneath his rod. They were covered with coarse, white-blonde hair that reminded her of the triangle that covered her secret place. A place that lay comfortably between his rock hard thighs
at that moment, and felt oddly full and aching.

He guided her hand and showed her how to fondle those sacks until he couldn’t keep his hand still and he fisted it again into the bedding.

She continued to explore his fragile potency for several more minutes, watching to see how he would react with each touch. Finally, satisfied that she knew this part of him well, she moved back to hold his rod as he had instructed her.

‘What now?’ she asked, all attentive student. 

Rather than try to speak, he placed his big hands over hers, and began to move her palms up and down, slowly at first, and then with more speed and pressure. When he let go to resume clutching at the bedding, she continued to do what he had shown her. His body twisted and arched as if she held a burning brand to his skin. Still not convinced that this was pleasure she was giving him, she nevertheless maintained her movements until he gasped ‘Harder, more!’ and she did as he instructed.

When he cried out and arched off the mattress, a stream of hot liquid pouring onto his belly and chest. She gasped in shock, but didn’t stop her movements until he subsided, and the fluid ceased.

‘That was a lot different to last night. Not the same at all.’ She commented, as she took her hands away, and sat back. He reached up and cupped her breast in his hand. Shocked, she drew away.

He chuckled at her modesty.

‘That was far better than last night. You get used to stealthy movements when you’re with slaves every minute of the day. I got so good at getting myself off at night, without anyone noticing, that I thought I could get away with it while you slept. Wrong again.’ He paused, as if savouring his mistake. ‘But doing it that way takes from the pleasure. Having you do it… ’

‘Having me do it?’

‘Better than sex with anyone else.’

‘I did it right?’ She couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice.

‘You did it more than right. But you better dismount, because I need to clean up.’

She did as she was told, and lay down on the mattress, watching him clean himself with the discarded loin cloth.

‘Can I do it again?’ she asked, after he was back, and lying beside her.

‘Maybe later. Now I’m tired. How do you feel?’

‘Me? I… I don’t know. How should I feel?’

‘Aroused by what you did. Shocked, guilty or horrified?’

She considered the options he presented. She was a little shocked by it, but felt no guilt or horror. Not with Vali. Aroused? She didn’t know what being aroused felt like. Unlike him, she didn’t have a rod to indicate arousal.

‘Well?’

‘What does arousal feel like?’

He lay silently beside her for several long minutes before he answered. ‘You don’t know?’

‘That night you kissed me on the marshes. I felt lazy and excited, as if I’d drunk too much strong wine. I wanted something, but I didn’t know what…’

He swore softly. ‘Do you feel like that now?’

‘No… but I feel discomfort … between my legs.’

His big right hand crossed over his body and cupped her core. She gasped in shock and something else. He ground his palm against her and she whimpered, wanting more.

‘Do you want me to do for you what you did for me?’ He said roughly, his voice no more than a gravelly croak.

‘But I don’t have…’

‘You have a tiny rod, here.’ He ground his lower palm against her soft lips again.

‘Do you want to?’

‘More than my next breath. But I’m walking a cliff edge here, sweetling. I can’t lose control, or I’ll take you. That would be a mistake for so many reasons. But I could show you…teach you…’

‘What do I have to do?’

He nuzzled in to her neck and kissed her there. ‘My fingers are too calloused and rough to touch you, especially for the first time. Do you remember how I sent my tongue into your mouth when I kissed you?’

She swallowed hard and nodded, remembering all too well.

‘I want to kiss you like that between your legs.’

Gasping, she closed her legs together tightly. ‘You…you wouldn’t.’

‘Yes, I would. And you’ll like it, once you get used to it.’

‘I’m not sure… I’m not clean…’

‘Yes you are. We had baths before dinner.’

‘Maybe another night. I’m not…’

‘All right, then go to sleep.’

It was a long time before either of them slept again.

28 August 79 CE, Rome LATIUM

The loud banging on the door had Marcellus Lavius’ house slaves up and answering the incessant hammering immediately.

‘What do you want?’ the grumpy old slave demanded of the fisherman at the door.

‘Urgent message for Lavius from Campania.’

‘Where the mountain has erupted and killed thousands?’

‘South of there. But this message is urgent. I was told to deliver it immediately we reached port.’

‘I’ll take it,’ the slave held out his hand.

‘I have to wait for a reply.’

‘My master will not be disturbed tonight.’

‘It’s urgent. I won’t leave until I get a reply.’ The young sailor stuck out his chin and crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Be it on your head.’

The door was slammed in his face. Half an hour later, the slave opened the door again. ‘My master says this is for Annius Bibulus who lives three doors along. Take it to him and only him.’

‘But…’

‘Do as you’re told. My master is not amused by your
urgent
missive that kept him from his sleep. Go three doors up, and ask for Annius Bibulus.’

The young sailor did as he was told, grumbling all the while. Again, he bashed on the door, and again, another disgruntled and sleepy slave finally came to him.