Seduced by the Gladiator by Lauren Hawkeye Page B

anything, not even if he had knowledge that would save my life. What could he know that was so important he felt the need to warn me of its approach?
    I thought of Christus, and of how shadows seemed to haunt him. Whatever it was that the dominus knew, I did not think that it boded well.

 

C HAPTER S IX
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    T he trip into town with the dominus had left me uneasy, the feeling a faint but present aftertaste that clung to my mouth. I worked through the afternoon’s training with fierce focus, doing my best to put both Christus and the dominus’ warning out of my mind.
    After training, I stayed on the sands, jesting with Darius. I made certain to appear unconcerned about events that had transpired in the ludus recently. As I stood with my tall friend, however, I noted that Bavarius still watched me with mocking on his face. I pretended that he did not exist.
    I also noted that Christus hovered on the edge of the sand, his eyes never straying from my frame. I knew that he was waiting for me, was waiting for me to come to him.
    Though I very much wanted to do just that, and though I had not been able to keep him from my thoughts all day, I stubbornly stayed behind. I did not wish to tell him of the day’s events, for he would worry.
    I did not know why I cared so much about what the man said or did. I had allowed him access to my body once, and would not do so again. He meant nothing to me beyond that.
    When I could delay it no further, I crossed the sand to the outer door of the chambers that I now shared with Christus. I knew that I would face an angry man inside.
    Before I could think our actions through, Christus wrapped his arms around my waist and half carried, half dragged me across the room to the bed. When we reached the wall beside it, he pressed me up against it, and the chill of the stone against my back was a delicious contrast to the heat that pressed against my front.
    My exclamation of surprise was muffled against his mouth, which devoured mine, hot and fast. After a second in which I pushed against him, startled, I returned the kiss as fervently as I received it.
    In that moment, I didn’t know why I had ever felt unsure. I did not know why I protested so much to myself. This—Christus’ skin against mine—felt so right. I knew that I always felt the need to prove a point, but as soon as he touched me again, I could not think at all, not when his hips bucked against mine, causing his cock to rise and to thicken against the soft swell of my belly.
    His tongue swept inside of my mouth, and at the same time he worked his hands between my back and the cool stone of the wall. Tracing fingers gently up my spine, he found the knot that held the band of leather up and worked it free.
    I shivered when my breasts were kissed by the air, the leather pulled down around my waist.
    Christus hissed in a breath at the sight. Small, they were pale and tipped with red, and he palmed one with something close to reverence.
    My mouth watered. I wanted him to taste them.
    Sliding his other hand from my back, around my hip, and up my abdomen, he cupped a breast in his right hand. He cursed when he discovered that he wasn’t touching skin—his hand had become caught in the thin cloth that had lined the leather, which had banded at my waist.
    But when the covered hand brushed over the rigid tip of my nipple, I emitted a low moan from the back of my throat. Burying his face against the slender arch of my neck, he rubbed that nipple between his fingers, the touch buffered by the smoothness of the cloth.
    I pressed my hips into his and wrapped my legs around his waist. Swallowing thickly, I wished to free the fastenings of his subligaculum, but did not wish to separate my hips from his for the time in which it would take to disrobe him.
    I forgot all about my wish when he dipped his head and closed his mouth over both cloth and flesh.
    I whimpered and bucked against him. He ground back, growling low in his throat, the sound