Silk and Steel (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

Corinna said nothing. He could do as he wanted, of course.

'Yes, I can do as I please,' he said, in that uncanny divining of her thoughts. 'But I do not think you will complain. No woman has before.'

I am not interested
, Corinna fired at him in her mind and now he smiled and drew back, sitting on his heels like a boy.

'Do you know what I was born to be?' he asked, plucking a pebble from the ground and tossing it from hand to hand. 'I am a farmer's child. One of ten, sold into slavery at twelve when my father died and mother could not feed us all. I was the biggest and greediest, so she sold me. Last year, I bought her farm and gave it to her outright.’ He tapped his chest with his fingers. ‘Yes, I am still a slave, but I was able to do this for her. Another year in the arena and I will have made enough to get my own freedom and my own place. A farm and a woman.' He flipped the pebble into the well and ran his thumb down her ear and teasingly beneath her chin. 'When I have dealt with Silvinus Cato, I will have the woman.'

The slave buys me through killing
, Corinna thought. The Christian in her was appalled at his lack of remorse, but she was horribly fascinated, too. Ashamed of her own interest, she said nothing.

'Come, speak to me,' he said. 'You have a pretty voice.'

She almost asked him who was
his
master, but still she made no reply. Where had this new stubbornness come from? Was she mad? This man was a hired killer. Did she want to provoke him?

'Silence as a weapon, eh? Then I shall have to disarm you.'

Moving with a deadly, fluid grace, Decimus scooped her away from the well and up, high, going higher, towards the moon. Even as she started and tried to react at the speed of his response—which she had had been trying to anticipate and evade—Corinna found herself tucked tightly into the crook of his arm, unable to kick or jab.

'No biting,' he warned, as she strained against a sinewy arm that gripped her in a python-like vice. 'I despise fighters who do that.'

He carried her to the middle of the large courtyard garden, where Silvinus Cato had placed a wooden bench beneath a gnarled olive tree. Sitting on the bench, his back resting against the olive and Corinna snug on his lap, he brought a pomegranate from the folds of his tunic. 'Here. Bite on this, instead.' He cracked the rough skin open on the bench and offered her a piece full of glistening, plump seeds. 'No? Do you think I am death himself, offering you this fruit to lure you to the underworld?'

Corinna shook her head—she knew the pagan story—but to prove him wrong she took the piece, relishing the tangy taste of the sweet fruit, the first time she had enjoyed such a delicacy. He ate, too. They chewed in silence, a curious intimacy in the silent garden.

'I think we two are the only ones awake,' Decimus remarked, wiping his mouth and breathing in deeply. 'What is that scent?'

She almost answered, rosemary and lavender, but still said nothing.

'There!' He kissed the tip of her sun-burnt nose. 'I nearly had you answering. Women love to show off what little knowledge they have.'

Not so!
Corinna shrugged to show that his comment did not trouble her. She was curious as to what he might do next: already she did not fear that he would beat her. But then, she could scarcely believe that this smiling angel was a gladiator. Was he indeed real? Was this a dream?

'Should I tickle you into speech, make you laugh out loud?' His hands hovered close to her stomach, teased under her breasts, lingered under her arms. 'You are a very hot little wench. Is that excitement or fever?' He ducked his head to check her expression. 'Do you not want to ask me questions?'

In answer—and it was a teasing answer—she traced a finger along a long white scar on his forearm. He smiled, lifted her hand and kissed her finger. 'Believe it or not, that scar was from a plowing accident, years before I entered the arena. It has grown with me. And not the only thing that will grow, if you keep wriggling like that on my knee.'

'I'm not moving—' She broke off, but was too late. His eyes gleamed.

'Let me look at you, gladiatrix,' he exulted. 'I claim a victor's right to do so.' Deftly, he untied her cord belt, tipping up her head and kissing her as he did so. 'No more fight, my red-headed beauty?' he murmured against her cheek, stopping any possible reply with a longer, deeper kiss.
‘
No more teasing?
’

‘
A slave is not allowed to tease,
’
Corinna answered, disliking the way her voice wavered as his hands raised the ragged hem of her tunic. She was no innocent so why did she feel so nervous? In the bath-house she had been stripped before hundreds, and endured rough handling. So long as he did not hurt her, what did it matter what he did?

She closed her eyes, stiffening herself to endure again. His large, powerful hands skimmed up her calves, briefly hugged her knees and then glided higher. Her rough tunic grazed against her taut belly and she flinched as the cloth brushed roughly across her nipples. He murmured something in Thracian, then again in Latin, 'Sorry. I will have you in softer cloth than this. There!'

Corinna welcomed the cool night air on her naked skin. She felt Decimus' fingers ease down the length of her spine, kneading at the rigid points on the back of her neck.

'Uhh,' she mouthed, her head falling against his shoulder. She could feel her lurking headache unraveling, melting away with his expert massage.

'My, but you are hot. I think you really are turning sick.'

Corinna forced her eyes open. 'If I am, I'll soon be well.' Men never liked sickly females. They could not be bothered with the trouble of them. The world around her was starting to spin, very slowly, and she licked her dry lips. 'Truly Master—'

'Master, eh? Finally, we are getting somewhere.'

She tried to smile, but the garden was now spinning faster and faster. She hung onto Decimus' tunic, bracing herself for a stinging slap to bring her round, trying to sit up on his lap and thrust out her breasts for his attention, suddenly fearful that he might withdraw from the sale. Then what would Silvinus Cato do to her? 'Believe me, Master, I am never ill—'

'Hush, Corinna. Drink this.'

They were over at the well again and he was cradling her one-handed, splashing water over her body. 'Drink!' he said again and now a jug was pressed against her burning mouth and she gulped, spluttering and drinking.

'Let's away. I'll leave your slave-price on the garden bench. Silvinus or his people will find it in the morning and you're in no fit state to be haggled over. I want you back in my barracks where I can tend you. Come.'

She felt herself being lifted again, opened her mouth to protest that she was naked, and knew no more.

* * * *

Afterwards, she knew snatches of life. A handsome, naked man looming over her, easing watered wine down her throat. A sweaty mess of sheets, then cool, crisp sheets. A handsome, naked man saying, 'Keep drinking, Corinna. I've paid good silver and gold for you and I don't want to lose you now.'

She drank. The water was wonderfully cooling.

When she was awake, she was confused. Decimus was a killer yet he tended her with endless patience and gentleness, sleeping beside her, feeding her. Once she heard him call out in sleep, shouting, 'No more!' She had woken him and asked what he had been dreaming, but he had been grumpy and sleepy and merely rolled her onto her side and clamped his hard long body against hers. As he snored she thought of what he had told her, that he had been a farmer. Now he cared for her like a rescued lamb.

A lamb to be fattened up and disposed of later?

Corinna decided that she did not want to think about it: she was too comfortable. Again she drank, wine now, not water. The wine was wonderfully sweet.

* * * *

Two days later her fever broke completely and she slipped into calm, dreamless sleep. When she stirred, she found Decimus sitting on the bed beside her, staring at her as if to convince himself that she was real.

'Good morning.' He ruffled her hair. 'Do you like your new quarters?'

Corinna sat up to stretch the stiffness from her muscles, aware that she was naked and aware of Decimus watching. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed his stare, but she didn't dislike it. 'We're not in the gladiator barracks?' she asked.

'I moved us to our new home in the city yesterday. You slept in the cart for most of it.' He held out his hand. 'Come see our garden. It's not so grand or big as Silvinus Cato's, but I like it. He sent a slave yesterday, by the way, to say he will be calling on us soon. I think he wants to keep an eye on his investment.'

'Investment?' Corinna was suddenly chilled.

'He's sponsored a young nobleman, Julius Tertellus, who fancies himself as a gladiator and wants to train with my team at the barracks. I've offered to keep an eye on the lad and stop him from injuring himself.'

'I see.' Corinna breathed out slowly, relieved there was nothing more to her former master's visit.

'Come.' Decimus rose from the bed, pulling her with him. 'Can you cook?'

'I can try.'

He laughed, saying in a low, amused voice, 'That's a skill you can learn later. I've other lessons for you now.' He stood back, giving her hand a final squeeze. 'Now, walk exactly as you are through that curtain, everything is ready.'

Wondering at the
everything
, Corinna obeyed her new master's instruction.

Decimus sprawled on the bed, giving his little red-haired wench time to move ahead. Even feverish she had been a sweet morsel, now it roused him just to watch her fantastic legs and pert backside as she walked away. The thought of those legs wrapped round him made his mouth go dry while his manhood stiffened further.
By Hercules she is perfect,
he thought, savoring his ownership. He had always liked small, full-breasted, wide-hipped girls. He liked her, too, for her clear warmth, her wit and her empathy. Most of all she was his exclusively, from the tip of her bright mane of bouncing curls to the soles of her narrow arched feet, and he was aching and ready to enjoy every bit of her.

Would he have her first and then spank her? He wondered. Or put her over his knee at once and pink up that luscious round bottom of hers with a few well-directed smacks? Would she think it punishment?

Not the way I do it,
he decided, as he rolled off the bed to follow her out.

* * * *

Corinna heard his padding approach and shivered slightly, although she remained where she was, leaning against one of the three pillars of a small portico and looking out into a secret, sunken garden. She knew what would happen in a few minutes. In the dusky shade of the portico there was a broad couch littered with cushions and on a table nearby was a jug of wine and cups, a plate of sweet pastries, dates with almond and honey. Noting the basins of good olive oil and ointments perfumed with spikenard at the foot of the couch she felt her face grow hot. As a bath-girl no sexual act should be unknown to her, but at the baths her every mating with a man had been a hurried, casual matter. These careful preparations hinted at arts she did not know.

'Do you like our garden?' Decimus had joined her by the pillar. Standing behind her, he crossed his powerful, tanned arms around her middle and tugged her close. He was naked, as she was. Half-twisting in his grasp to look up into his bright eyes, Corinna caught a glimpse of the scatter of his clothes leading to where they were.

His body was taut and hot against hers. She could feel the hairs on his long legs, the wedge of solid muscle across his belly, his ribs against her shoulders. Fully erect, his cock was a thick column rising to his stomach and jutting against her bottom.

'I—' She had forgotten the question. His was the most beautiful male body she had ever known and to have it touching against hers made her light-headed with mingled excitement and tension. He pressed her closer and her feet scrabbled an instant for balance until her toes were resting on top of his. His cock twitched, riding into the crease of her buttocks, and her own sex clenched in answer.

He kissed her, rotating her easily in his arms, lifting her higher so her feet dangled, drawing her up so that the tip of his sex nestled in her crop of red, intimate curls.

'The servants have all returned to my old barracks. They hire themselves out from there as it is,' he said, rocking her against himself. 'Which means we are alone today.'

His member brushed against her moist vulva and even as she wondered at his self-control, Corinna felt herself tense, he felt so large to her. Wanting to please him, though, she put her arms about his neck, running a hand through his gray hair.

'Are you pleased, Corinna?'

'Who is the slave here?' She almost whispered, but what came out of her mouth was a shallow gasp. Every part of her body was tingling and alive, sensitized to an incredible point. She felt the tip of his cock brush and circle her intimate parts again, almost as if his sex was kissing hers. She stretched up and began to kiss him, thrusting her tongue past his half-open mouth.

In response he moaned, snarling her even closer so that not even a shadow could fit between them.