For the Sake of an Empire Ch. 05

Her fingers curled around his as she pressed his hand to her breast. Her flesh was warm and supple beneath her thin silk gown and she smiled when his eyes darkened with desire. He looked younger when uncertainty filled his eyes and Portia's free hand gently brushed against the side of his face.

"Portia..."

"Shh. Just touch me, Marcus. Allow yourself to imagine for a moment that what you feel now could be yours always. I know that you're no untried boy, but we could learn about passion together. We could have it all if we work together..."

She breathed out when she slid his hand beneath the cloth, fingers finding flesh even softer than the silk. Her hand tightened around his, helping him lift the smooth weight of her creamy breast free of her gown, bringing the tempting flesh to his sight.

It was a generous globe, perfect and creamy with a rosy tip that hardened when his thumb stroked over it. Portia moaned, her head tipping back in pleasure when he pinched the supple flesh surrounding it, making her body throb with pleasure.

They were in full view of anyone who happened past, but Portia didn't allow her gaze to leave his. It was a delicate spell that she had woven and she knew the hold was fragile.

"Feel how like silk my skin is Marcus. You could have it wrapped around you every evening if you wish."

"Silk would cost me less than such follies with you."

"Silk alone cannot give you the pleasure I can."

Her hand slid gently down his chest, finding him hard and ready. She smiled when he groaned with pleasure, her fingers stroking him to full readiness beneath his clothing. His breathing deepened, his hand stilling her movements.

"You're playing games with me, Portia"

"This isn't about games, Marcus. It's about what is best for the country. Together we would be unstoppable. To rule jointly is our duty, but we can still find pleasure in it."

His other hand moved abruptly, curling around her neck. She was pliant as he tilted her head up so that his breath could move over her mouth.

"You forget that I have known you since you were a child barely past my knees, Portia," he whispered against her lips. "You have mastered the art of manipulation. You watch people for their weaknesses as if they were pieces of fruit you are considering plucking."

Portia smiled, her tongue peeking out to delicately trace the outline of his lips. His pulse quickened and she pressed herself more firmly into his hand. "I plan more than just plucking for you, Marcus. Think of all that could be if you just allow it. You have nothing to fear from me."

"As my uncle had nothing to fear?"

The question hung and Portia stiffened as if she had been slapped. She could not find words. Marcus untwined her hands from around his neck, ignoring the throbbing in his loins. She was still as beautiful and desirable as she had been a moment ago, but as her face tightened with rage, he felt his sanity returning.

Portia flushed with rage as he stepped back, struggling to regain her composure. Her breasts rose and fell as she straightened her robes, determined not to allow him to know how much he had rattled her though her hands trembled. The breeze swirled strands of hair around her face and her cheeks burned with anger against her hand as she pushed them back. The festivities continued inside but neither of them would find reprieve in the lilt of the flutes that urged merriment.

"We all have things to fear Marcus," she whispered. "When we stop fearing, we become foolish and that is one thing I am not."

"Nor I."

"Indeed..." She inhaled, forcing a smile which didn't touch her eyes. "Now that we have that out of the way, I have a gift waiting for you in your bedchambers. She's quite lovely. Her cheeks color when she says your name."

"So quickly you shift your dream to another?"

"I am a patient woman, Marcus Aurelius. Eventually you will come to your senses."

"I cannot be swayed by sex alone, Portia."

"I offered you much more than that. You could have the kingdom."

"That is your dream not mine."

"Tell me what you want, Marcus, and I will make sure you have it."

"What I want cannot be measured in power of wealth, Portia."

"Then tell me of your dreams ... Do not walk away from me, Marcus,"

Marcus paused in his steps, turning at the door to look at her. Shadows played over his face, shielding the expression in his eyes. "The woman meant for me would not have to ask. Good night Portia."

He disappeared through the doorway and she tried to calm herself. No other man could raise her temper the way he could. His calm was the flame that set her ablaze, her skin tingling with energy that had been urged and left unsatisfied.

She jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder.

Commodus's brow arched in question and she felt her irritation growing. She had encountered defeat and she was in no mood to tolerate the old priest or his gloating.

"What do you want?"

"So cordial, Portia. You truly epitomize all that a Queen should be."

"My patience wears thin tonight, Commodus. Tell me what brings you to haunt my steps and then be gone."

"I saw Marcus leaving but he did not look like a man who had just had his dreams handed to him."

"He was tired. It is his first night back in Celaenia. We have plenty of time to convince him that taking the throne as my consort would be the best decision for the country."

"I take it then that he does not believe it is the best decision for him."

"You should never assume, Excellency. It makes you look pompous."

"Perhaps, but I would rather be pompous than foolish by supporting the wrong candidate for the throne. Get your thoughts in order Portia. I know your preferred methods of persuasion, but Marcus cannot be won over simply by the allure of your body. Celaenia needs a Queen, not a whore."

Portia lashed out before she could think, her hand striking his cheek a crack of sound. Commodus's head whipped to the side with the force of the blow, color rising in his leathery face as her palm throbbed.

"How dare you?! I am the future Queen of this country and you will, by the gods, show me the proper respect!"

"Respect is earned, not freely given, Portia."

"As your Queen it is within my right to demand it."

Commodus nodded his gray head slowly, offering a slight bow from the neck. "My apologies, my lady. You are right that it is within the rights of a queen of Celaenia to demand anything she wishes."

He bowed again, then moved towards the door. He turned back in the doorway, mirroring Marcus's earlier stance. "But, you are not Queen yet and it is a very long journey to the throne. Much can change."

His robes flapped as he walked away, leaving Portia trembling with barely contained rage. She felt feverish, overwhelmed by her foolishness. She had been so close to success, to achieving every dream she had ever had and now she could hear the laughter of the gods in the wind, mocking her failure, her weakness.

Her eyes closed, knuckles going white as she made her vow to the mocking stars and heavens above.

I will not fail. As the gods are my witness, this is not the end, only the beginning. I will not allow my enemies to defeat me. I will triumph and so will Celaenia, even if I must lie, cheat or kill for her. When it is over, they will all regret ever doubting me, and it will be my turn to laugh. As the gods are my witness, this is not the end...