Festival of Rome

"Yes. Incredibly so. And it pleases me greatly."

Lucia smiled a secret feminine smile. He shifted her, and she found the imposing length of him nestled along her vulnerable cleft. Her body clenched, her body's pleasure coating him. His hand held her hip firm as he began to glide along her damp cleft with tantalizing deliberateness. "A man slides in and out of his woman, deep, shallow, hard, fast."

She clung to his shoulders, her breathing ragged. Something her mother had said, when she was younger, teased at her. "Does it hurt a woman?"

"Only the first time, and then only briefly. A woman's maidenhead is pierced by the man as he enters her, then he fills her deeply and she stretches to accommodate him. If her lover has prepared her, making sure she is slick and damp when he comes into her, then the pain is lessened."

"Oh." About every third or forth torturous glide, as if by chance, the tip of him thrust up and a different angle, pushing at her body where his fingers had rested until her body's natural resistance halted him, then eased back.

"If a man...his first time, does it hurt?"

"Only his pride, if he and his lover are not careful. A man always wishes to impress his lover, yet his control may not be as he hoped."

"Has a lover ever told you that it...you..."

"Weren't impressive?"

She nodded, just as the crown of him probed her entrance. He rested there, his breathing harsh, his muscles strained beneath the dig of her fingers. His hands slid down to squeeze and mould the creamy mounds of her bottom.

"It is different for men then it is for women. A woman never fails to impress because she is inexperienced in loving a man. So long as a woman is passionate and willing, she has nothing to fear that her lover will find her wanting. Tell me your name."

She answered his command without thinking. "Lucia."

"Lucia," he husked, and a shiver stole down her spine. "Lucia, let me come inside your warmth. Let me show you what it is to take a man inside of you for the first time, to love your sweet body. Let me give you pleasure."

She moaned as a finger found the sweet nub between her thighs, lightly stroking her. Her body clenched and unclenched at emptiness, the feel him lodged at her entrance an aching reminder of all that she could have. His words returned to her. He would take nothing freely offered. Indecisiveness warred within her when there should have been none.

His mouth captured hers in a possessive kiss. Her body yearned that he fill that emptiness that he had created, to bring an end to this sweet torment. She knew then that she could not leave him without knowing, without once having him.

"I give myself fully to you," she whispered, and his eyes closed for brief moments before opening and gazing down at hers with a startling intensity that made her body tremble.

He kissed the valley between her breasts, the hollow of her throat, her lips. "I will worship you, sweet Lucia. There will be no regrets."

He flexed slightly, butting the barrier that stood between them. The pressure of his hand on the small of her back eased her hips forward, her nipples rubbing against the dusting of black hairs on his chest as she steadied herself against him. His hands settled over her hips, his mouth on hers. He began to slide up inside her and she gasped at the sharp pinch of her maidenhead. He whispered intelligible words as he stole further into her melting warmth, his hardness forcing her innocence to yield to his possession.

"Push down on me," he encouraged, his hands on her hips showing her how as he pressed on. Even though there was a tender soreness as he slid impossibly deep, there was no denying the incredible sensation of two bodies joining. His mouth was unrelenting on hers, kissing her as he came to rest fully inside of her.

She burned beneath his intense regard, the heavy beat of his heart racing hers. It felt incredible to be held in his arms, to have him pulsing within her. The breeze lightly stirred the silken hair against her damp back as she knelt astride her golden warrior, his tongue tangling with hers. Her body felt complete without ever having lacked.

He began to rock against her, creating eddying thrills that drove away the languid heat as a renewed urgency struck her. She whimpered against his mouth, his hands on her hips guiding her as she lifted and plunged to meet the intoxicating thrusts.

She felt stretched beyond bearing every time he drove deep, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, her back arched, her hips rolling as her body took his all.

His hands moved possessively over her young body, sliding down over her belly to discover the glistening bud. His fingers massaged her, dragging husky moans from her. Her whole being was focused on the heat between her thighs, the driving hardness that slid impossibly deep as she rode him. His groans mingled with her cries as the intensity of sensation reached fever pitch.

Her body felt needy and tingly as she opened to his surging thrusts, writhing and wriggling on the full gloriousness of him. He was impossibly thick and hard, banishing all thoughts except of him and every wicked thing he was doing to her eager body.

Her whimpering moans turned to gasping cries, moisture trembling on her lashes as she struggled with the overpowering sensations tore through her. It was too much, too intense.

She clenched around him as ripples of pleasure stormed through her, a soundless cry escaping her. His fingers caught her chin, his gaze locked on hers as her body reached its zenith. "Lucia, sweet Lucia," he groaned, surging deep over and over as fire consumed her. She clung to him, her nails raking down his back. His thrusts became more jerky, faster, his groans reverberating in his chest. Then he was bucking inside her silken tightness, his hot seed pouring forth into her welcoming heat.

She collapsed against his chest, unable, unwilling to move. His heart thundered against her ear, his chest glistening with sweat. Arms wrapped about her tightly, holding her close. Lips pressed against her forehead, her hair.

When the night cooled, he tugged the stola about her body and nestled her sideways on his lap as he leaned back against a wooden trellis. She lay quietly nestled in his arms beneath the stars, not wanting these stolen moments to end.

~*~

Hadrian gathered Lucia in his arms and lifted her, her delightful shoulders and knees left bare by the hazard stola. He gazed down at her serene face, framed by the tumble of silky brown waves. The dark crescents of her lashes rested against her creamy skin touched with gold, her soft peachy lips slightly parted. The portrait he had been presented with did her little justice. It pleased him to know he would be the only one to see her thus, tired and satiated from his loving.

Guided by the moon and his tracks, he made his way back toward the township and his waiting horse. Lucia only stirred twice, and quickly settled with gentle kisses.

Perhaps she would be angry upon first learning of his deception. He had come to this town for a purpose, and by chance had found himself dragged into the festivities by the locals at the inn. He had done so only because he thought tongues loosened by wine would garner him more honest words than otherwise. He had discovered what he sought of this lady and more, much more. He had found her by chance, and some small part of him wondered if fate or Valentinus of Terni was responsible for what followed. The time for recriminations, if any, would be tomorrow. He had promised her no regrets, and he held none.

He skirted the ribald revelry for the most part, and unbidden in the darkness he guided his horse to her domus.

~*~

Lucia was drawn awake by the opening of doors to the atrium. Sunlight flooded the room, lighting up the blue and gold mosaics tiles decorating the walls of her cubicula.

"Wake up, Mistress. The master is here and demands your presence in the tablinum."

Confused at finding herself in her own cubiculis, Lucia sat up. And winced at the slight tenderness her body expressed. What had she done? And what did her father know of it? Lucia searched her memories, and did vaguely recall a horse and the shouts of revellers but nothing to explain how she now lay naked in her bed.

With Cassia's help, she donned a simple stola and her hair was coiled on top of her head. Cassia made no comments about the dirt on her knees or the soft bruises on her hips. Not long later Lucia presented herself in her father's study. When her father was absent it was used as a passageway, the doors pushed wide to allow light from the inner courtyard.

Her father gazed up from paperwork littering the table before him. "I have signed your wedding contract this morning." Lucia knew she would have no choice in a husband. Marriages were for political or financial alliances. She would become a freewoman, free from the control of her father. She would be able to own her own property, run her own household. A marriage offered her many advantages.

Lucia felt her chest tighten and the skin on the back of her neck prickle. It wasn't unexpected. She knew the purpose for which her father travelled to Rome. Yet memories of her warrior intruded and she struggled to deal with this news. Her new husband would divorce her on discovering her lack of virtue. Her family would become the target of gossip. No regrets, he had told her, and Lucia knew she would struggle to hold onto this promise in the days to come.

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the opposite door. A tall man, his toga revealing broad shoulders filled the entrance. Lucia's breath caught even before she met unreadable green eyes, her own golden ones wide.

"I am Hadrien Graccius." He moved toward her and caught her unresisting hand between his, a shocking reminder of the race yesterday. She felt him slip a ring on her finger, and only later would she recognise the possessive of the act. "Many believe a bridal ring is connected to the heart of its wearer."

Her warrior was her intended? Unanswered questions raced through her head. Yet the presence of her father stilled her voice.

Hadrien's grip tugged her closer, his head lowering until his mouth rested against her ear. "It pleases me that Valentinus favours our match," he whispered.

No regrets he had promised. Joy flooded her. Lucia smiled, lifting his hand to her lips and pressing them against his golden skin. Valentinus indeed.

THE END