Maximus pounded into his wood nymph’s tight channel, giving her every last drop of essence, draining him dry, wringing his soul with the fury of his possession.
His roar of satisfaction echoed in his ears, vibrated through his brain and trembled along every sated nerve.
Control long since vanished, he collapsed onto her welcoming body, so soft, so hot. Burning still, with slaked desire. Enclosing him in a scented mist of raw sex and unbridled passion.
Through the fire that still licked through his brain, he became aware of her smallness. Her fragileness. Against his desire he heaved himself onto his elbow and studied her delicate face.
Gods, she was so beautiful in the ethereal light that bathed them both. As desirable as a nymph of the goddess of love herself.
His cock, still buried in her tight, wet tunnel, stirred. Venus, he wanted her again already.
Her eyelashes fluttered open, and although he couldn’t see the colors of her eyes, their beauty still awed him.
“I came.” Her voice was hushed, as if the fact astounded her.
He laughed softly and wound a damp lock of her hair around his finger.
“I came too,” he said. “A most satisfactory outcome for us both, I believe.”
She pressed her hand against his heart. He liked the way she touched him, the way she looked at him as she touched him, as if it gave her great pleasure.
“We truly did come together.” Her whispered words, in genuine wonder, aroused him further. “It was even more magical than I had dreamed.”
He stilled playing with her hair. “Was this your first time?” To be sure, it was rare he came at the moment of his partner’s release. Usually he ensured they came first. But with his golden Celt his control had shattered.
Thank the gods he had still satisfied her. She deserved nothing less after the immense pleasure she’d given him.
“Yes.” Still, the wonderment laced her voice. He smiled down at her, pleased she hadn’t shared mutual orgasm with any other man.
Her hand rubbed over his chest, as if she couldn’t help herself. As if his hair held an impossible attraction for her.
“It is different, coming with a man inside.” She looked up at him, wide-eyed with newly discovered knowledge.
He frowned slightly, unsure as to her meaning. “Different?” He shifted his hips, and his cock showed its appreciation by swelling further, pushing against her tender flesh.
“Yes.” She seemed to think that answer enough, but before he could demand she explain further, she clenched her internal muscles around him, wiping his question from his mind.
“Gods.” His voice was ragged. “You have the touch of Venus, my lady.”
Her hand reached up. Instinctively knowing what she wanted, he lowered his head, so she could gently stroke his hair. Odd how so simple a gesture could be so arousing, when performed by his Celt.
“Your goddess of love.” It wasn’t a question. She trailed her fingers along his jaw, and he saw her lips curve into a strangely shy smile. Something tugged deep in his gut, painful, almost sexual and yet not.
“The Morrigan never blessed me so before.”
The name was vaguely familiar. A heathen three-headed goddess the Celts worshipped. Certainly incomparable to his divine Venus.
He would never insult his wood nymph by telling her so.
“Tonight both our goddesses blessed us.” And he was ready, more than ready, to be blessed again. He slid his arm around her waist and swiftly reversed their positions, and grinned at the startled expression on her face.
“Oh.” Her voice was faint as she stared down at him, and her glorious hair tumbled over her shoulders, enclosing them in a scented river of gold.
He cupped her hips, holding her still. Poised above him she looked like a goddess from Olympus, enjoying the charms of her mere mortal lover.
“Take me deep inside you, lady.” Still holding her hips, it would be too easy to force her down the length of his shaft, but he waited agonizing moments, wanting—needing—her to be the one to make the first move.
Slowly, as if she had never done such a thing before, she inched down his erection until he was utterly enslaved by her slick heat. Enveloped in a tight embrace, she contracted around him, the sensation so exquisite a primitive roar scraped along his throat, echoed through his mind and shattered the remnants of his restraint.
He dragged his hands over her waist and cupped her breasts as she hung over him. Felt her move, matched her rhythm, slammed his hips against her, molding her tender flesh to fit his size and take his length. Her nails tore his shoulders, and through a haze of lust he watched her eyes widen, glazed with passion, saw her lips part, felt the heat of her ragged breath against his face.
“Maximus.” She gasped his name, as if in wonder, and it was too much. With a primordial growl he abandoned her breasts and cupped the rounded cheeks of her delicious bottom, and rammed his cock into her, claiming her, possessing her. Branding her his.
And sanity shattered.
Arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist, Maximus heard the uneven gasp of her breath against his neck and the erratic pound of her heart against his chest. He tightened his grip around her quivering body, but was too sated to move farther.
“You belong to me.” He said the words aloud, claiming her even if she didn’t know it. “You will always belong to me.”
“Yes.” Her soft response satisfied his male pride. And then, within a heartbeat, he stiffened.
“You understand me?” He had spoken—still spoke—in his native tongue.
Her breath puffed against his neck, as if her exertions this night had thoroughly exhausted her. And despite himself, male pride heated him once again.
“Yes. I always have.” Again she answered him in perfect Latin.
Gods, what had he said to her the other day, believing her oblivious to his words? He couldn’t recall. But he did know he hadn’t wanted her to understand.
“Why did you lie to me?” He traced his fingers over the curve of her waist, and felt her shiver.
He should have ensured his cloak was within reach. He didn’t want his little Celt to become chilled.
“I didn’t lie.” She snuggled against him and her hand curled around his shoulder. “You assumed, and I allowed you to do so.”
He conceded that perhaps she was right. “Your grasp of my language is impressive.”
This time he felt her sigh. “It was thought prudent to learn the tongue of our approaching enemy.”
He stroked her hair, which curled over her shoulders. “I don’t wish to be your enemy, my lady.”
She was silent for a moment. “Nor I. But you will always be the enemy of my people, Maximus.” Infinite sorrow clung to her words, as if she somehow knew that for a fact.
He banished the thought. “In time, even your kin will accept us. Already much of the populace are benefiting from our presence.”
She began to trace swirling patterns on his shoulder. “Maybe that’s true. But it doesn’t mean you’ve been accepted.”
He rolled her onto her back and pinned her beneath his heavy body. She gazed up at him, fearless.
“If your family surrenders, they won’t be enslaved.” He would make sure of that. “We could use the knowledge and loyalty of the nobles, my lady.”
“That would make us traitors to our own people.”
Bracing his weight on one hand, he cupped her face with his other. “No. You could help bridge the chasm between your people and ours.”
Pain filled her eyes. “You make it sound easy. But you’d wipe out our culture without a second thought. Destroy our way of life forever.”
He traced the outline of her lips. “No. You can still worship your gods alongside the gods of Rome.”
She frowned, clearly confused. “Reports of your conquest reached us long before you arrived in Cymru. Of the blood-soaked battles and merciless slaughter of all who opposed you.”
“I’m a soldier, lady,” he said, gently playing with her beautiful hair. “We fight when opposed. I can’t lie and tell you otherwise.”
A ragged sigh wracked her body. “My kin will never surrender, Maximus.”
He fisted her hair. She was only a woman, and as such had little power in her family. He knew that. And yet the fact she was so adamant her kin would never consider surrender irked him.
“In Britannia, many nobles retain their exalted status.” True, they paid tribute to Rome but that was a small price to pay for an improved standard of living.
Again she frowned, but not with confusion. For the first time she looked offended by his words. “We are not Britons, Roman.”
Her haughty tone amused him and wiped clear his irritation with her cowardly family.
“No. You’re a stubborn Celt, and you belong to me. And as such I should take you back to the garrison tonight and never allow you to leave.”
She melted beneath him. “But you won’t.” She sounded so confident he wondered how she would react if he put his threat into force.
He had no intention of dragging her back by force. Not yet, anyway. Only as a last resort should all else fail.
A strange flicker caught his attention, and he glanced up to see one of the lanterns fade into darkness. His wood nymph gasped and pressed ineffectually at his shoulders.
“You’re not going anywhere. Stop complaining.” He settled himself more securely over her wriggling body. If she continued so, he would have no option but to fuck her once again.
“Maximus.” She stilled beneath him, but her eyes captured him. “I have to go.”
“And I said no.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t want to leave,” she said. “But if I’m missed tonight, I may never be able to escape from them again.”
Sudden anger shot through him. So her family kept her prisoner. “Then come with me. You will never have to escape from them again.” Despite what she believed, he could keep her safe. Safer than she could possibly be wherever it was her cursed kin were hiding.
She cradled his jaw, a fleeting caress. “You misunderstand. They bind me with love, not chains.” She sighed. “If I disappear, they’ll think terrible things. I can’t do that to them, Maximus.”
He could. Easily. “You’ll meet me here again.” It wasn’t a question. “In three nights.” It was the earliest he could manage. Curse her. He didn’t want to wait three nights.
For a moment she appeared surprised at the wait, as if she’d expected to see him tomorrow. If she agreed to return with him now, then she would fucking see him tomorrow.
“I’ll be here.”
Yes, she had better fucking be there. Otherwise he’d rip the entire valley to shreds until he found her. And her fucking family.
“Maximus.” Her soft voice pulled him back to the present. She had a strange smile on her face, but in the gathering darkness it was difficult to determine her precise expression.
“What?” It was a growl. He couldn’t help it. No woman had ever annoyed him so.
“I’ll be here waiting for you.” A silken caress that soothed his wounded ego. “I’ll always be here waiting for you.”
He sucked in a deep breath, savoring the scent of crushed flowers, fresh sweat and hot, abandoned sex. Her promise appeased him. For now.
“Very well.”
Carys shivered as her Roman finally rolled off her, severing contact. She had the powerful urge to pull him back and entice him inside her again, because his withdrawal left a gaping chasm. Cold. Lonely. Extraordinary sensations that gripped her body and confused her mind.
A second lantern flickered and died, and Carys jerked up. She had little time before all the lights extinguished and the smoke’s magic, hallucinogenic properties vanished, allowing Maximus to realize, should anyone pass by the circle, that they were invisible to the world.
She caught sight of her gown lying some distance off. Her Roman reclined on the blanket, propped up on his elbows, watching her as a predator watched his prey.
He clearly had no intention of collecting her gown for her. On hands and knees she crawled across the grass, aware of his intense gaze on her exposed buttocks. She gave an exaggerated wiggle of her hips and glanced over her shoulder to catch his reaction.
His eyes clashed with hers. “Do that again.” His voice was eerily calm. “And see where it lands you.”
The temptation to do just that was strong. But the watchful look on his face assured her that if she pushed, he would take. And she couldn’t afford to linger much longer.
She crushed her disappointment. Safety was of paramount importance, and she wouldn’t allow herself to risk discovery through mindless lust.
“I don’t wriggle to order,” she said instead, and grabbed her gown as Maximus made as if to rise. “No. There isn’t time.” She hastily pulled her gown over her head. Maximus remained on the blanket, but she could see every muscle tensed as if he was waiting for the slightest provocation to pounce.
“You don’t appear to do anything to order.”
She tugged her gown straight and threaded the ties at her breast.
“Not when they’re given by a man.” She flashed him a teasing smile. Heat bloomed deep in the center of her being at the sardonic grin he tossed her way. As if he didn’t believe her but was prepared to indulge her fantasy.
“You had best start learning how to obey orders given by this man.”
She sat back on her heels, knowing she didn’t have time for such flirtations and yet unwilling to shatter the moment.
“It’s possible,” she said, “I may make an exception in your case.”
He laughed. She knew he hadn’t meant to, knew he was still angry with her for refusing to go with him. But still he laughed at her, as if he couldn’t help himself.