moaned, desperate for more, but she kept to her pace, not changing it in the slightest, making him beg for what he wanted from her. He tried thrusting his hips, forcing her to take it faster, but she pinned him to the ground, drawing a rough laugh from him. Finally, when she decided he had taken enough punishment, she let her mouth slide up off the end with a light pop, and licked her lips. She pushed herself up to kiss him on the mouth again, the taste of his precum still fresh on her tongue as she rubbed her clothed pussy against his exposed cock.
'Please what?' she growled, so wet she was sure he could feel it even through her tunic.
'Please let me take that sweet pussy,' he said, between rough kisses. Barra chuckled, sliding her hands toward her waist.
There was a sudden sound of running footsteps behind her. For a wild moment Barra considered ignoring them, but they grew closer, and frustrated she turned to see a young man from the village sprinting up the hill, his skin red and shining with sweat, his eyes wide with fear. Barra reluctantly climbed off Finn, rolling over onto her back. The youth's eyes caught briefly on Barra's bare breasts and Finn's slick shaft, but he managed to stutter out his message all the same
'Barra, Finn, I'm sorry but...it's the Roman armies! They're here!'
Finn tugged his tunic back into place, and looked to Barra, his eyes narrowed.
'How?' he cried. 'They were a week away!'
Barra stared into the middle distance, weighing their options.
'It must have been a forced march,' she said. 'They wanted to be on top of us before we knew it, so we couldn't harass them along the way.' She stood, pinning her tunic back into place. 'Impressive – it's what I would've done.'
'Then what do we do?' Finn said.
'We're out of options,' Barra replied, and turned to Brenock, the young messenger. 'Get back to the town. Get everyone armed and ready.'
There was fierce defiance in her voice, but an undercurrent of inevitability, too.
'We fight,' she said.
-*-
Fight they did, and Barra's people were not the victors.
Barra was led into the tent in chains, pulled along by two legionaries. The summer sun gave way to the dark interior of the tent, the light filtering through its rich red canvas walls. Inside, a tall man stood facing away, his hands clasped behind his back. The two legionaries threw Barra to the floor, her knees colliding heavily with the earth, and a small grunt of pain escaped her lips. The tall figure gave a small laugh, and turned.
Barra was immediately struck by how much of a general he looked. His hair was cut short, shaved almost to the skull in a way no man of the Celtoi wore it, and instead of a rugged beard he had only the dark shadow of a day's growth. His eyes were grey steel, piercing and intense, and the lines of his face were sharp. His shining armour left his arms exposed, and she could see they were thickly muscled and defined. He was no general to sit on the sidelines – this one wanted to be in deep, thrusting with the rest of his men. He fixed his piercing stare on Barra, and she could almost feel his thoughts entering her, reaching into her to dig deep, trying to find out her secret truths. She gazed right back, no stranger to men with power. The general smiled icily.
'Celtic barbarian,' he said, 'Welcome to the camp of your betters. My name is General Titus. If you're sharp, you'll do exactly as I say, and tell me exactly what I wish to know.'
'And if you're sharp,' Barra replied, 'You'll stick your attitude up your arse.'
One of the legionaries yanked her to her feet by her chains and grabbed a handful of hair – Barra growled as her head was pulled back, and Titus rounded his desk to approach her, drawing so close he could have kissed her, and she could smell the rich scent of his fresh sweat. A feeling rose inside her at the smell, but whether she wanted to fight or fuck, she wasn't
'Please what?' she growled, so wet she was sure he could feel it even through her tunic.
'Please let me take that sweet pussy,' he said, between rough kisses. Barra chuckled, sliding her hands toward her waist.
There was a sudden sound of running footsteps behind her. For a wild moment Barra considered ignoring them, but they grew closer, and frustrated she turned to see a young man from the village sprinting up the hill, his skin red and shining with sweat, his eyes wide with fear. Barra reluctantly climbed off Finn, rolling over onto her back. The youth's eyes caught briefly on Barra's bare breasts and Finn's slick shaft, but he managed to stutter out his message all the same
'Barra, Finn, I'm sorry but...it's the Roman armies! They're here!'
Finn tugged his tunic back into place, and looked to Barra, his eyes narrowed.
'How?' he cried. 'They were a week away!'
Barra stared into the middle distance, weighing their options.
'It must have been a forced march,' she said. 'They wanted to be on top of us before we knew it, so we couldn't harass them along the way.' She stood, pinning her tunic back into place. 'Impressive – it's what I would've done.'
'Then what do we do?' Finn said.
'We're out of options,' Barra replied, and turned to Brenock, the young messenger. 'Get back to the town. Get everyone armed and ready.'
There was fierce defiance in her voice, but an undercurrent of inevitability, too.
'We fight,' she said.
-*-
Fight they did, and Barra's people were not the victors.
Barra was led into the tent in chains, pulled along by two legionaries. The summer sun gave way to the dark interior of the tent, the light filtering through its rich red canvas walls. Inside, a tall man stood facing away, his hands clasped behind his back. The two legionaries threw Barra to the floor, her knees colliding heavily with the earth, and a small grunt of pain escaped her lips. The tall figure gave a small laugh, and turned.
Barra was immediately struck by how much of a general he looked. His hair was cut short, shaved almost to the skull in a way no man of the Celtoi wore it, and instead of a rugged beard he had only the dark shadow of a day's growth. His eyes were grey steel, piercing and intense, and the lines of his face were sharp. His shining armour left his arms exposed, and she could see they were thickly muscled and defined. He was no general to sit on the sidelines – this one wanted to be in deep, thrusting with the rest of his men. He fixed his piercing stare on Barra, and she could almost feel his thoughts entering her, reaching into her to dig deep, trying to find out her secret truths. She gazed right back, no stranger to men with power. The general smiled icily.
'Celtic barbarian,' he said, 'Welcome to the camp of your betters. My name is General Titus. If you're sharp, you'll do exactly as I say, and tell me exactly what I wish to know.'
'And if you're sharp,' Barra replied, 'You'll stick your attitude up your arse.'
One of the legionaries yanked her to her feet by her chains and grabbed a handful of hair – Barra growled as her head was pulled back, and Titus rounded his desk to approach her, drawing so close he could have kissed her, and she could smell the rich scent of his fresh sweat. A feeling rose inside her at the smell, but whether she wanted to fight or fuck, she wasn't
Similar Books
