The Centurion's Wife Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Rachael Stewart

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, email: [email protected].

  Twitter: @rach_b52

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  www.rachaelstewartauthor.com

  To Jenni,

  For sharing my love of history,

  and for being my writer-bestie.

  So glad I have you in my life!

  Rxx

  PS #BringingRomansBack

  Chapter One

  Corinium, Britannia c.300AD

  Lucia

  I am a slave. I was born a slave, I’ll die a slave. I have no wish for freedom, to fend for myself, not when I can live just as I do.

  I am the Body Slave to my Domina.

  She owns me.

  She owns my heart too.

  I roll over, stretching out and she moves with me, her palm stroking up my inner thigh, her fingers caressing in circles and making my legs tremble with what is to come.

  She likes to do this. She likes to worship me when we are done. It’s an odd arrangement but one I’m more than happy to oblige. I have been trained well. Giving her the greatest of pleasures, and in return I get to feel like a goddess at her hand.

  ‘If only we could stay like this always,’ she murmurs, leaning over my naked form.

  Her head drops to the crook of my neck, her lips soft, her tongue softer. She’s teasing a sensitised path along my skin, one born of knowledge. She knows my every curve, every erogenous zone to which I react and slowly she glides down, her hair trailing over me, teasing at my tautened peaks that she purposefully avoids.

  I wriggle beneath her, showing my displeasure and she gives a soft laugh. ‘What is it, Lucia, am I neglecting you?’

  Goosebumps prickle deliciously as she hums into my navel, pressing for an answer––‘Hmm?’

  My body quivers as I make a sound akin to acceptance––she doesn’t like my foreign tongue, and I’m not about to displease her. I’m happy to keep my lips sealed until she demands something more taxing and pleasing of them.

  Her chin brushes over my curls and my tummy contracts with the instant hit to my clit. I want to rake my hands through her hair, guide her where I want her, but I daren’t. Instead, I reach up behind me to hook over the luxurious cushion beneath me. I tilt my head to the side, pressing into the plushness as I buck over her initial sweep of my clit, a blissful cry erupting from my lips as my eyes strike with Lucius standing guard at the door.

  His eyes burn into me, his hunger searing across the room. I know he wants to be involved and I revel in it, both his desire and our Domina’s expert attentions pushing me further into the hedonistic abyss.

  But she’s teasing me. Her hands have ceased their caress, her tongue is slow and savouring.

  ‘You are so delicious,’ she whispers against me, her soft breath rippling over my wetness. ‘Would you like a taste, Lucius?’

  He clears his throat, his deep brown gaze lighting as his body straightens, every stretch of muscle taut and on display, save for the one I know he’s eager to use, his impressive hardness visible beneath the strip of cloth at his waist.

  ‘Come,’ she commands, her body shifting to make room, her hands pressing at my inner thighs to make way for them both.

  I succumb to her pressure and open myself up, watching him approach. A bubble of excitement ripples through my lower belly as I devour every flexing sinew of strength. Even his cropped hair does something to me deep and low.

  He kneels beside the couch on which we lie, she dips her fingers inside me, and my body lifts and clenches, savouring her invasion as my eyelids flutter and her thumb slips up to caress my pleading nub. Pleasure streaks through my limbs, my lips part in a moan. She is so good at this, so good at making me beg, making my body plea for completion.

  Through the haze of desire, I watch her undulate within me, over me, my body riding her in abandonment and then she withdraws, raising her glistening fingers to Lucius. ‘Taste.’

  Dutifully, he parts his mouth and she slips inside. I watch as his gaze flits between us, his tongue and lips cleaning her of every last drop. Then she gestures to me and she doesn’t need to say the words, he knows this game of old.

  He bows, his hands parting me open, his tongue running leisurely from bottom to top and coming to rest before my throbbing bud. He traces around it, teasing me, his eyes dark and greedy as they now burn into my own. I pant with the crazy force building within, my gaze flits to her in desperation––let me come. But she only smiles, her delectable lower lip catching in her teeth as her lustful gaze takes it all in.

  I’m close to speaking, to risking it all and begging, but then his hands shift to grip at my thighs, his eyes flash in warning as he takes pity and flicks directly over my hardness. I buck with the rush that sears me. My head thrashing as he rhythmically repeats the move, every flicking sensation sending me higher and higher, the tension taking hold of every muscle in my body. And then he stops, his mouth surrounding me as he sucks back and my body spasms.

  I am so close, I can feel it curling through my toes. His tongue is back, rotating over me and I wriggle beneath him with heady approval. His teeth nip gently, his mouth sucks and his tongue rolls. It’s a maddening combination, one that he knows will tip me over.

  ‘Enough,’ she suddenly declares, and I look to her, my vision bleary with lust, my brow raised in pleading––don’t leave me like this.

  But Lucius obeys, rising onto his haunches, his eyes looking to her and only her.

  ‘The oil, Lucius.’

  Oil––I hitch a breath.

  ‘Onto all fours, Lucia.’ They both rise as she issues the command and I do as she asks.

  She walks around the chaise longue, humming her approval before gracefully climbing on, joining me on her knees before my bowed head.

  I look up, taking in her beautiful curves, her long raven hair flowing freely, her porcelain like complexion glowing, her green eyes blazing. Thirty years and her maturity only adds to her appeal. I could gladly kneel before her forever.

  I sense Lucius return and feel the trickle of oil hit my lower back, he trails it down through the crack between my cheeks and my Domina leans forward, the neat hairs protecting her modesty press against my nose, teasing me with her scent, her proximity. But I know not to taste her, not until she commands.

  Her soft palms glide over the liquid, sweeping it down my valley, her fingers confident as she caresses my tightly puckered opening. Gently she probes and my body trembles of its own accord, my thighs slipping against one another with my dripping need. The throb within so intense I am barely lucid.

  The couch shifts with the arrival of Lucius, his hard thighs press between mine as my Domina moves to palm my cheeks, spreading them before him. ‘Take heed Lucius, I have no wish to have this beautiful body tainted with child.’

  Lucius grunts his acknowledgement and inside, I breathe easy. For as long as my Domina wishes to keep me as I am, I am protected from the horror of bringing a slave child into this world––But for how long?

  I squeeze my eyes shut against the sanity threatening and rock back seeking his presence, seeking the thought-obliterating pleasure I know he will soon deliver.

  His swollen head presses against my opening and I clamp down on my lower lip, forcing my body to relax and accept the enormity o
f him.

  He eases in, the oil lubricating his path as the multitude of tiny nerve-endings light up in a dizzying dance. I contract around him, dropping my face to the cushioned softness and grant him all of me, adjusting around him as he eases back and thrusts deep. Harder this time. His body slapping against mine and delivering waves of pleasure that take out the pain.

  I feel my Domina shift, her body straightening, ‘Ah, Lucius, bene futues.’

  He did fuck well, he was stretching me so wide, filling me so deep, I was on fire for it, my drawn-out climax making my clit pound fiercely, my fingers itching to service it. But it’s her fingers that move. I can hear her slip inside her own wetness and I peek up at her pleadingly.

  She smiles with a small nod and opens herself up to me. Yes.

  I raise up, my tongue flicking over her awaiting clit as her fingers comb through my hair, holding me fast, steady against Lucius’ thrusting rhythm.

  Hungrily I lap at her, scarce able to draw breath, my nose pressed into her pelvis, my mouth working her. Lucius is taking my all, but he isn’t greedy. One heated palm slips around my hip, cupping me between the thighs and I moan in delirious gratitude. He fingers me, his expert caress probing at the heat coursing through my veins.

  Above me, my Domina whimpers like a kitten, loving my attentions, loving what she sees. My climax hits hard and fast, timed with perfection as she loses it above me, her nails biting into my shoulders as she uses me to keep upright.

  I feel Lucius tense, his thrusts becoming jagged and then he grunts hard, his cock pulsing as his hot seed surges within me.

  He rocks and I move with him, our Domina drops back into the couch, encouraging me with her. I rest my head on her belly as Lucius folds into me, his body heat mixing with the bliss-like warmth coiling through every limb and I smile to myself––I am so lucky.

  I am a slave but I’m one of the lucky ones.

  Or so I was…

  Chapter Two

  Gaius

  ‘Come Gaius, you should be proud of the role I offer you.’

  Proud––His chest tightened. The man was deluded, so pumped on the idea of battle and the honour it bestowed, that he couldn’t see past it to the true horror.

  Only Gaius could.

  Home two months, married for one, his dream of having a family and running his land, the gift of a hard-earned retirement, barely even started. And here was Tiberius demanding he abandon it.

  He eyed the legendary Legatus and supped at his wine. As a Centurion, his rank had ensured he obey, as a retired Centurion, his options were no different.

  ‘I am not asking you to fight,’ Tiberius pressed, his lips blustering with the heat of his words. ‘I’m asking you to train, to make these men as powerful as you, to push back these blasted Picts from the north and regain our stronghold.’

  ‘And what of my land?’ Gaius asked steadily. ‘Who will take care of it in my absence?’

  Tiberius waved a flippant hand, ‘It will survive, your foreman will ensure it.’

  ‘And what of my wife?’

  ‘Ah-ha,’ Tiberius now chortled, nodding as he grasped a handful of grapes from the bowl being proffered by his half naked serving woman and relaxed back into his chaise longue. ‘Now the truth is out, it’s really all about the woman…granted they are worthy of being distracted by.’

  He trailed his fingers down the back of his serving girl, his eyes tracing the move. ‘But if we don’t see off these invaders, we won’t have the land on which to enjoy their offerings––hmm?’

  His eyes returned to Gaius, their piercing snake-like shade probing and seeing far too much. ‘If that is all you are concerned with, you know of old that a man such as you can have your pick of the spoils…after all, isn’t that how you met your woman?’

  Anger rushed his veins and he took a slow, deliberating breath. Gaius hadn’t fought his way through the ranks by letting his temper win out. But the bastard was making it a challenge like no other. He thought of his golden-haired Aurelia, his native bride, and her soothing beauty. Her passion, her joy, her ability to see good in all around her. Even he. After he’d desecrated her land, all in the name of Rome, and rescued her from a fate worse than death, she had learned to love him, to forgive him.

  A raven-haired girl appeared at his side, her clothing or lack thereof leaving nothing to the imagination and Tiberius gestured to her. ‘You see, I can help ensure you are never left wanting.’

  She curved her palm over his thigh, her touch soft, her eyes beneath her lashes promising him a thousand pleasures and he stiffened, his hand shooting out to take hold of hers, stopping her. He smiled to soften the rejection and lifted her away, his eyes returning to Tiberius. ‘I only have need for my wife.’

  ‘Then take her with you, we will secure you a townhouse, you can––’

  ‘I have no wish to take her closer to danger.’

  Tiberius cursed, launching out of his seat, his patience lost. ‘You have no choice Gaius, Augustus Constantius commands it of you.’

  And there it was, the real reason he was fated to this path. There would be no denying Augustus, not if he wished to retain the future they dreamed of.

  But Aurelia, how would she fair while he was gone?

  He flexed his fists and held Tiberius’ eye, ‘I want men to protect my land.’

  He gave a one-sided sneer, ‘You mean, to protect your wife.’

  ‘Yes.’ His affirmation was strong but inside he was crumbling. She was young and she was lonely. And in a new household such as theirs, she had no advocate, no friend, no one to care for her while he was gone, no one to ensure her happiness.

  ‘What has you so pained now?’

  Gaius raised his chin, he would not feel ashamed of his thoughts. ‘I gave her a promise that I had done my time for Rome, that my life was hers now, that we will always be together.’

  ‘You can still have all that, in six months, a year...find someone as strong as you to put in your place and you can hurry home sooner.’

  ‘I do not wish for her to be alone.’

  ‘She is hardly alone, she has an entire houseful.’

  ‘Regardless, her position is precarious without me.’

  ‘You only have yourself to blame,’ Tiberius tsked, filling his palm with grapes and then his mouth, chewing as he spluttered, ‘It was you who chose to take a slave as your wife.’

  ‘She is no slave.’ Gaius’ voice rumbled through his chest, his anger hitting every syllable.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Tiberius dismissed, unperturbed by the edge to his voice. ‘You freed her to marry her, she was a slave.’

  ‘I don’t care for your opinion,’ Gaius said, his teeth gritted, his pulse working tangibly in his jaw. ‘Unless it aids me.’

  Tiberius puffed his cheeks out on a breath. ‘I care for you, Gaius, but do not take that to mean you can speak how you choose.’

  ‘I seek only to ensure my wife is happy.’ He spoke steadier this time––to anger the Legatus would no better serve him than his outright refusal to do as he asked. ‘So long as I know this to be the case, I can fulfil my role with no distraction hanging over me.’

  Tiberius erupted with a surprising laugh and pushed the plate away. The girl dropped to kneel at his feet, placing the plate on the ground as Tiberius lowered his palm to stroke over her hair, his expression thoughtful.

  ‘Very well, Gaius,’ he spoke eventually. ‘I have an idea that could serve you and your marriage well. In fact, you may consider it a gift from this house to yours, a gift of two halves.’

  ‘Two halves?’

  Tiberius looked to him, a self-satisfied grin lifting his features, ‘I think both you and Aurelia will be more than happy.’

  ‘And what is this gift?’

  He chuckled again and snapped his fingers, his body slave stood and curved into him. ‘All in good time, Gaius, all in good time. Right now, I have other pleasures to indulge. I’d offer you the same,’ he gestured to the raven-haired slave still waitin
g in his shadow and crooked his finger, ‘but I sense she is not for you.’

  She stepped forward, sauntering towards her Dominus, and Tiberius followed her move, his eyes already glazing over with lust. ‘I will call on you tomorrow with your gift, Gaius, and also send word to Augustus Constantius that you will be in position before the month is out.’ She folded into his free side and greedily, he palmed both girls by their behinds, sweeping them closer, his eyes flicking briefly to Gaius, ‘Now go and enjoy your wife.’

  He dipped his head, it was about as much agreement as he could muster before Tiberius turned and walked away, flanked by his women.

  Fucker.

  Gaius threw back the last of his drink, eyes boring into the other man’s back as his women fawned over him and each other, the sight fuelling his blood to do exactly as the man had dictated, enjoy his wife.

  And as for the gift––no gift was greater than the life he dreamed of. The life he’d believed they now had.

  He tossed the empty goblet aside and strode for the door, anger surging with the heat of desire in his veins. Home could not come swift enough.

  Aurelia

  Aurelia had given up on sleep. Ever since Gaius had been called away she’d been unable to do anything but worry. She’d even tried to read, to work on her language to please him upon his return, but her brain had failed to stay on task. And now the sun had set long ago, and her tummy rumbled miserably, but the only noises she cared to listen to were the ramblings of her panic-ridden brain.

  What could Rome want with him now?

  Hadn’t he given them enough?

  Hadn’t he promised he was done?

  She paced the bedroom, ignoring the observant gaze of Livia and Tiro, her slaves, her protectors. She’d tried to dismiss them but as always, Gaius’ orders overruled her own and they insisted on their post. But she wasn’t blind to the glint in their eye. She could read the resentment like an open book and couldn’t help wondering if they took pleasure in her discomfort.

  A groan nagged at her throat and she swallowed it back. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. But by the Gods, this wasn’t the life she’d wanted. Not really. She would settle for a tiny dwelling, farm her own land with Gaius and, Gods be willing, have their children at their side. She had no need for the trappings of Roman life.