Another of my earlier short stories set in a Roman bath house.
She’s back! As soon as I finished with my guest, I heard the news from Piroska. She’s back!
My heart beats loudly in my chest as I prepare myself for her. I wash off the stink of man with flowered soap; a little dab of honeyed oil at my wrists and throat; unstained silks of sheer greens and yellows slide against my skin; a thorough brushing that leaves my hair glowing with health. And all the while, Piroska chatters to me.
She’s been away for months. I’ve missed her so, worried about her well-being. Piroska says she’s been west of here, defending the empire from the Goths, that she’s looking hale and hearty. And she asked for me!
I am eager as I leave my room, nearly floating in my happiness as I drift down the stairs. Piroska stays behind to change the linens and freshen my workspace. She will be gone by the time I return with my prize, my soldier, the old maid’s presence marked only by the scent of jasmine lingering on the air.
The main bathhouse is noisy and humid. Many people are here to ease the late summer heat. As I stand in the entry, I scan the waters, looking past the children swimming like porpoises, the scantily clad men and women taking their ease. I’m able to see other girls that work here plying their trade, seducing young soldiers and old merchants alike. Most are men; not many women join Caesar’s army which makes my soldier that much more special than all the others.
There she is!
A quite bubble surrounds her as she lounges at the edge of the pool. She’s in the water, forearms braced on the tiled edge, head resting upon them. Her ebony hair is wet, the ends drifting in the water, teasing her muscular shoulders and back.
I quell the flutter in my belly, mentally going over my appearance again. Satisfied, I slide toward her, walking as I’d been taught when my family sold me to the brothel. With some pride, I notice the heads turning. Men eye me with speculative lust and I raise my chin, ignoring them. They can pay for my services at another time. Tonight, I am hers.
As I come around the pool, I see her eyes are closed. Though my steps are soft, a gentle smile crosses her face as I near. An answering one is on my own and I kneel beside her arms. “I’ve missed you.”
Her smile turns seductive and she opens her eyes. I cannot resist reaching out one hand, cradling her cheek as the blue lightning of her gaze lingers on me.
“Hmmm,” she purrs. “I’ve missed you, as well.” Taking my wrist, she turns her head and plants a kiss on my palm. Her lips are slightly roughened from windburn, but so soft compared to the men I’ve been with. She exerts a slight pressure on my wrist, pulling. “Join me.”
I rise and undress, the silks sliding down my body to pool at my sandaled feet. She licks her lips in anticipation as she watches, her stare turning wild as it caresses me. My nipples pebble in response and I can feel a flush crawl across my skin as I slip into the bath. She’s moved away from the edge, holding herself aloft with one hand. Heated water is cool against my flesh, another flame warming me inside.
The bath is deep here but before I can begin to tread water to stay afloat, she presses against me, pinning me to the side. I gasp at the contact, arms unerringly wrapping about her broad shoulders for support. Her length next to mine feels so delicious that I can’t help but squirm against it, the sensations causing shivers.
Aware of her power over me, she laughs quietly as she nuzzles my neck. As I’ve done before, I marvel at her voice; a low tenor that captures my ear with ease. The baths are noisy, yet I can hear nothing else when she speaks or laughs or whispers. A memory of her moans drifts through me and I wrap my hands in her ebony hair, my legs about her waist.
Her nuzzling has intensified, teeth nipping. I guide her head, turning mine until those full lips reach my ear, the tongue tracing my lobe. Warm wetness surrounds it as she sucks on the tender skin, a light growl breathing into my ear. I answer with a gentle moan of my own, flexing my legs as I stroke against her. It’s not enough and my breasts ache to be touched, my nipples brushing hers only prolonging the agony.
She pushes away from the edge of the bath, her arms and legs holding us afloat as they propel us backwards towards the center. Other swimmers drift away, allowing a semblance of privacy in the crowded waters. They give us lustful and envious gazes, wanting to be with one or both of us and I can feel a bubble of laughter in my chest that no one can be as lucky as I this night.
My hands rake through her hair, pulling her lips from their task. “Kiss me,” I breathe.
A mischievous smile lights her face. “Why?”
For a moment, I’m unable to speak, the memory of her mouth on mine washing over me. Moistening my lips, I find my voice. “You’ve been gone so long. I miss your lips, your tongue…” I trail off as a new wave of arousal courses through me.
“Take a deep breath,” she orders in a husky voice, her pale eyes darkening.
Inhaling, I obey, my heart fluttering with anticipation, feeding off her desirous gaze. With instinct born of passion, my eyes close.
Her lips on mine are rough with insistence, drinking their fill of me after months of deprivation. Simultaneously, her arms envelope me, a callused hand running down my back to cup my buttocks, squeezing me closer as the other buries itself in my hair. No longer treading water, we sink, wetness surrounding me, wetness within. My soldier’s tongue invades my mouth, salty and slick, the faint taste of olives from her last meal filling me. I’m not aggressive as a rule; the men who buy me prefer passive partners. Her intensity fills me with desire, however, and I find myself responding with the same ferocity, my hands roaming her well-muscled body.
We remain submerged until my chest aches from lack of air. Knowing that the wild attention from her hands and mouth will end with the kiss, I am loath to stop it, my need for her warring with my need to breathe. I cling to her body, rubbing against her, writhing from the responding touches that elicit an almost painful yearning. Strong arms grasp me tight and muscles bunch beneath me as she launches us upward.
Breaking the surface, we both gasp aloud, filling our burning lungs. Her arms and legs return to the task of keeping us afloat, my skin mourning their loss. The impish smile on her face piques me just a little and I pout to show my displeasure. She appears unrepentant so I decide to return the favor. With clear purpose, I slide my body along hers, leaning close to nuzzle her ear.
“I’ve missed you – your caress, your voice,” I whisper into her ear, my lips brushing the sensitive skin. She shudders under me and I smile. “At night… when I’m alone… I touch myself, pretending it’s you, hearing your moans. Gods, your moans inflame me!”
She growls in desire at my voice and I lick suddenly dry lips, brushing my tongue along her ear. “Take me,” and here I pause for effect, “to my room. Allow me to ravish you, to love you.” My legs tighten around her waist, pressing closer. I know she can feel my heat along her skin, feel my slickness despite the waters that surround us. As she moves us toward the edge of the pool, my heart thumps in anticipation of a long, leisurely loving.
Once more she presses me against the tiled edge. “You are a vixen,” she rumbles deep in her chest.
Her hips thrust forward and I gasp at the sensation. Leaning her head forward, her sharp gaze capturing mine, lightning eyes dark with thunder. Again she thrusts against my center and my eyes flutter closed, the vision of my dark soldier intent on her prize remaining with me.
“Hold the edge of the pool,” she orders quietly, her voice hard with command.
I swallow, trepidation trickling through me, wondering what she’s about to do. With her the loving has always been private and gentle. She’s never been this… forceful before. Pushing against me with her body, she growls when I do not immediately obey.
Her voice holds an edge I’ve heard only when she’s near release. “Now! Or I leave.”
The threat works its magic and I release my hold on her neck, grasping the tiles behind me. My arms are spread wide, breasts buoyant in the water. Now that I’m holding myself up, she releases her own hold on the tiles, using my legs about her to stay afloat.
Her hands begin to roam my body, scratching down my sides, thumbs circling my navel. I can’t help but moan aloud when my neglected breasts are firmly grasped. Arching into the contact, my knuckles turn white as I keep hold of the pool, fighting the instinct to dig into the flesh of her back and shoulders. She kneads them with strong fingers, crushing them together, thumbs circling my nipples. When she pinches them, I cry aloud and she swallows my voice with a ravaging kiss. One of her hands remains where it is, rolling the nub in her fingers, squeezing the breast. The other slides through the water, reaching behind me, beneath me.
Her fingers enter my warmth with no warning, no gentle teasing. They plunge into me with rough insistence even as her hips press into mine. I lose myself in the developing rhythm, squeezing her with my legs, trying to draw her deeper into me as her unbridled wildness takes us over.
Time has no meaning, only the water lapping against me, her flesh moving against mine, fingers rutting within. My belly tightens with impending orgasm, each brush of her body against my center sending me closer and closer to the edge. Her lips are on mine again, consuming me with passionate heat, driving me further.
I convulse against her, unable to keep hold of the bath as waves of sensation roll through me. My hands wrap in her hair, holding her lips to mine as hers hold my body to her. Sliding down the side of the pool, our heads go beneath the water, but I don’t care. Her fingers are still within me, milking the last of the climax from my shuddering form.
Before we drown, my soldier brings us back to the surface. The noise from the other bathers floods my ears as I breathe deeply and I wonder where their voices were while I was in the throes of passion. A caress along my skin brings my attention back and I smile at the dark angel before me.
“Take me,” I repeat, “to my room.”
Her smile turns sultry and she bows her head once. “Your wish is my command.”