Chapter 13
Velia woke to a myriad of pleasurable sensations: tingling warmth on her neck, her breast, her waist, with a solid heat behind her.
As her awareness slowly returned, the feelings clarified: Ferox’s lips nuzzling her neck, his hand skimming up and down her front, his large body tight against her back.
Velia stretched and sighed as the last vestiges of sleep dissolved.
She couldn’t think of a better way to wake up than with a muscular, aroused gladiator curled around her body.
She stretched again, this time more suggestively, allowing her bottom to make delicious contact with the swell of his arousal. His breath caught. In a swift motion, she found herself flipped onto her back, pinned flat beneath him.
Her surprised giggle was cut short by the hot, hungry press of his mouth on hers.
She stretched her arms over his magnificent shoulders.
His hand groped downward to find the curve of her breast, and his thumb swept over her nipple, coaxing it to stiffen.
The flood of sensation, sharp but exquisite, made her gasp.
He growled in her ear. His hand moved lower, finding the crook of her bent knee and pulling it higher, opening her to him.
Her sore hip and thigh stretched—the only thing that could distract her from the pleasure of this awakening. She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to put a stop to this. Ferox was now busily tugging up the folds of her dress. Her inner muscles, though still tender, gave a hopeful twitch.
Her body wanted him, and though she knew their coupling would be highly enjoyable, she didn’t fancy repeating yesterday’s level of discomfort. Reluctantly, she laid a hand on his chest. “Ferox,” she breathed, voice hoarse with her first spoken word of the day.
He paused. “Yes?”
“I don’t—I don’t want to.” The words were difficult to get out, because she did want to—just not right now.
“Oh.” He rolled off her. “Sorry.”
She sat up, combing her fingers through her tangled hair. “I mean, not now. I need another day or so to recover,” she confessed.
He propped himself on his elbow. A wrinkle appeared between his brows. “Recover?”
“From…the night before last.” Heat rose to her cheeks.
He blinked at her, uncomprehending.
“Our coupling,” she clarified. “I was a little sore after.”
She could tell when understanding set in, because it dropped a dark cloud over his expression. A moment later, he was out of the bed, pacing to the other side of the small room. “You mean to say…” His hand clenched into a fist, bracing against the wall. “I hurt you?”
Velia swung her legs out of the bed. “That’s not what I said.”
He half-turned, his eyes dark and heated. “I knew this was a mistake. From the first moment I wanted you, I knew I should keep my distance. I knew I would hurt you.”
The revelation that he’d desired her for longer than she’d realized was interesting, but Velia set it aside for the moment.
She rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t about to indulge this fit of self-reproach, but she understood where his guilt was coming from.
“It was nothing, Ferox. I didn’t even notice it then.
It was only when I woke up the next morning. ”
“Tell me how,” he demanded, his voice rough. “Tell me how I hurt you. Did I…did I make you bleed?”
“No!” she exclaimed. “It was just a little soreness in my, well, you know. And my legs were a bit stretched from that position we tried. And…” She debated withholding this next piece of information, but he’d asked. “There were some bruises on my hips.”
He made a pained noise low in his throat. “I bruised you?”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Look.” She gathered up her dress, raising it to waist level.
He turned hesitantly, as if about to face some horrifying carnage. His eyes locked onto the thin marks, now faded to yellow shadows.
She brushed her hand over them. “Nothing,” she repeated. She dropped her dress, covering herself to the ankle. “I’ve gotten worse from bumping my elbow on a doorframe.”
Even though she’d covered herself, he was still frozen, disgust and self-loathing written plain on his face. “I’m—sorry,” he finally bit out.
She sighed. For a moment, she regretted bringing this up, but she’d planned on raising it with him anyway. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“I’ve lain with other women,” he said, his voice low. “Do you think…did I hurt them too?”
His concern for the women of his past was endearing. “Were they prostitutes?”
He gave a swift nod, his gaze on the floor.
“Then I’d wager all the emperor’s money that you were probably one of their best.” She approached him, laying a hand on his arm.
“Come here.” She drew him over to the bed, sat him down, and slid into his lap, sitting sideways across him.
His arm curled around her waist to steady her.
She kissed his forehead, lips brushing a faded scar.
“Do you think I would have brought you dinner if I was displeased with you? Much less spent the night?”
He leaned his head against her shoulder. “No,” he grunted, a reluctant admission.
“And do you remember last night, when I told you that you were pulling my hair, and you stopped?” She drew back to meet his gaze.
“That’s what I would have done, had I noticed any discomfort when we were together.
And you would have stopped.” She raked a gentle hand through his short hair.
“You must trust me in this, as I trust you.”
At her words, some of the tension finally eased from his gaze. “I do trust you.”
Her stomach gave a strange leap. No one had ever told her that before, and she realized what a great, precious gift it was. She dropped a quick, sweet kiss on his lips, then pulled back, smiling. “It was partly my fault, anyway. I fear that position we tried was a little too ambitious.”
“I could teach you some stretches. If you wish to attempt it again.”
Velia giggled. “Next you’ll have me running laps with Achilles.”
He snorted.
“I was probably just out of practice,” she said. “It had been a while since I’d…” She gave an expressive shrug.
“Well,” he replied, sliding his hands up her back, “that’s an easy fix.” His lips found a spot on her neck that made her gasp and clutch at him.
“Mm,” she breathed. “It may take a great deal of experimentation to find the perfect way to lie together.”
“Once you’re feeling better, I’m at your disposal for as long as it takes,” he murmured, then captured her mouth with his.
Later that day, Velia returned to the ludus after paying another visit to Oppius.
The official had once again extolled the virtues of his bachelor nephew, but eventually Velia succeeded in booking Achilles for his next fight at the end of the week.
She’d also received the remaining money due for his first appearance.
She wished she could have negotiated his fee higher, but that wouldn’t happen until he’d logged a few wins and built some popularity.
Still, her half of the fee was more money than she made in a week from her uncle, though she still had to pay him back for Achilles’s room and feeding.
She would do that first. After passing through the gate, Velia headed toward the building that housed her uncle’s office.
A voice from behind caught her attention. “Velia?”
She turned to see Jason. He appeared to have just come from a training session, bare-chested and sweaty, with a damp rag laid over his shoulder.
“Can I have a word?” he asked.
“Of course.” She had always liked Jason; he had a mild, reasonable personality, and he wasn’t bad to look at either.
His features were refined, but a previously broken nose lent his face a rugged edge.
His body was lithe and well-proportioned, skin tanned to a golden hue by hours spent training in the sun.
Before Ferox arrived, Jason had often been the target of her ogling, though she’d never felt anything close to the pull toward him that she felt with Ferox.
Jason scrubbed the rag over his face, mopping up some lingering sweat. “You’ve been spending time with Ferox.”
“Has he told you?” Though Ferox seemed like a private person, she might have expected he’d speak of their encounters to his closest friend.
Jason shook his head swiftly. “Of course not. But I have eyes. As does Lea.”
Ah, that was it—Lea had seen her yesterday morning.
She dipped her head to concede the point. “What of it?”
He took a step closer, lowering his voice though there was no one nearby. “I hope this doesn’t offend you, Velia, but…I know in the past, you’ve seen fit to be rather, well, free with your…favors.”
Velia’s eyebrows shot up. “Where exactly is this conversation going?”
Jason raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I mean no offense. I only wanted to say…Ferox isn’t like that. He doesn’t, well, he doesn’t share that part of himself lightly.”
Velia had sensed that, but still she frowned. “He’s been with others.”
“Yes, but as far as I know, always courtesans. Those encounters are like buying lunch from a food stall. And they were infrequent at best. Only the night before matches.”
Velia tried to understand what Jason was getting at. “So you think your friend is too good for me, is that it? Because I’m just some…some slut who’s leading him astray—”
“No!” Jason’s exclamation cut her off. “That’s not at all what I meant.”
He seemed genuine, his expression radiating sincerity and dismay at her interpretation of his words, but her lips pressed together. A familiar insult echoed in her mind: stupid whore.
“I just wanted you to understand that if he’s…spending time with you in that way…he doesn’t do it lightly.” Jason’s gaze, serious and dark, held hers.
The earnest tenor of his voice assuaged some of the tightness in her chest. “I see,” she murmured.
“I only ask that you take care,” Jason continued. “You must know he doesn’t intend to stay here past the end of the games. I won’t have him leaving broken-hearted again.”
Velia cocked her head. “What do you mean, again? Was there someone else?” It seemed to contradict what Jason had said earlier about Ferox’s lack of previous entanglements.
“No. Not like that.” He hesitated, eyes sweeping up to the sky and back down to her face. “We had a friend. He died in the arena. Ferox took it very hard because—” He stopped himself. “Forgive me. It’s not my story to tell. Anyway, that’s why he left.”
Velia made a murmur of acknowledgment, turning this new information over in her mind. She had wondered why Ferox left and why he’d been so reluctant to return.
“I have no wish to hurt him,” she said after a moment. “We both know this won’t last forever. But if you’re asking me to stay away from him…I can’t promise that.”
Jason shook his head. “No. I only wanted you to understand. To be careful. And”—a crooked grin lit his face—“if you have any mercy on me, please don’t tell him I spoke of this to you. He’ll smother me in my sleep.”
Velia chuckled. “I won’t.”
“Thank you.” Jason nodded to her and stepped aside.
Velia continued on her way, mulling over Jason’s words. If Jason was correct that Ferox had only lain with women the night before his fights, that meant him asking her to stay last night truly was unusual. Not to mention their abbreviated tryst this morning.
For there was no match today he needed distraction from. That seemed to mean he desired her in a different way than he’d ever wanted a woman before.
Velia had to admit the same might be true for herself. She hadn’t been truly tempted by anyone since coming to the ludus, her previous urges toward recklessness tempered by the new and fulfilling life she found here.
Maybe this was uncharted territory for them both. After all, she knew what it was like to have transitory encounters—one boy here, another there. But this feeling of wanting the same man over and over again…this was entirely new.
Velia reached her uncle’s office, paid him what he was due, then spent the rest of the afternoon busy with other errands.
Messages needed to be taken, there was a supply delivery to oversee, and the physician had to be summoned to check on one of the men who’d sustained a mild injury in yesterday’s games.
As the day came to an end, Velia stole a moment to herself in her room, sitting on her bed with a grateful sigh as she rested her tired feet.
A knock sounded at her door. She grimaced, but heaved herself to her feet and opened the door.
Her exhaustion was quickly forgotten as she beheld Ferox standing in the hallway outside her room. She smiled, opening the door wider. “Hello.”
He murmured a greeting, then thrust something at her. “For you.”
Velia took the object, a palm-sized clay container. “What’s this?” She removed the cover, finding a thick ointment within. A minty fragrance mixed with something herbal spiraled to her nose.
“Henbane seeds and peppermint,” he explained. “It helps with sore muscles. I thought…it would make you feel better.”
“Oh!” Befuddlement made her stammer. “You—you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, thank you,” she managed, flushing. She was woefully unpracticed at the niceties of accepting gifts.
He ducked his head in a nod of acknowledgment and turned to leave.
Velia held up a hand, fighting through the mental disarray his kind gesture had produced.
“Wait—I have something for you too.” She slipped into her room, set the ointment container on a shelf, and retrieved Ferox’s half of the money from Oppius.
“I booked another fight on Friday,” she informed him as she dropped the silver coins into his hand. “How was Achilles today?”
Ferox shrugged. “Irritating, but that’s nothing new. It’s good for a novice to lose early. Stops them from thinking they’re invincible.”
“Did you lose your first fight?”
He shook his head. “But I lost the second and drew the third. After that, I understood how hard I’d have to work.”
It was difficult to imagine Ferox losing. Maybe one day, someone would think of Achilles the same way. She could only hope.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” Ferox said, then turned toward his own room.
For a moment, she debated calling him back, inviting him to stay, but after Jason’s warning earlier, she wondered if a bit of distance might benefit them. She’d never had someone show so much care toward her. Her gaze lingered on the little container of ointment he’d brought. How sweet.
Jason’s warning had been delivered with Ferox in mind, but Velia now realized she might need to look out for herself as well.
There was no future in this, after all. This dalliance could be a pleasant diversion for the next two months, but that was it.
Ferox would leave, and she had to prepare herself to let him go.