Bend - Bromberg K. - Страница 78

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Her tongue darted out and traced her lips as she looked from our joined hands to my eyes. I held her gaze, but she remained hesitant.

“I would find it most relaxing,” I informed her.

She took a deep breath as she wet her lips again. She blinked rapidly a few times and then reached over with her other hand and removed my fingers from hers. She laid my hand at my side, and for a moment, I thought she might refuse me.

I would never press a woman, not even an unwilling slave, but I felt my chest constrict at the idea that this one—this beautiful Aia—would deny me what I wanted.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she tugged at my undergarment, unwrapping the top layer and pulling it down, exposing me to her. Without hesitation, she took my cock in her hand and gently ran her fingers up the shaft.

“Mmmm…” I moaned.

“Will you lie still?” Aia asked quietly.

“I will try,” I replied with another half-smile.

She looked at me, and her eyes sparkled as she stroked me again. She slid partway down the bench and positioned herself over my lower body. With her eyes still on mine, she leaned forward and took me again, this time in her luscious mouth.

After six months on the battlefield, I didn’t know how long I would be able to restrain myself.

Her mouth was warm and soft on my hardened cock, and she used her tongue expertly to flick against the tip, up one side, and down the other. Her hair fell around her shoulders and partially covered her face from my view until I reached down and wrapped it in my fingers. I did nothing to change her pace but only held her hair away from her beautiful face.

Her eyes held me as tightly as her mouth held my cock. She was beautiful and glorious as she moved her head up and down in perfect rhythm. There was no hesitation in her expression. Indeed, there was nothing there but raw desire, and it captivated me.

She is only a slave.

I found the errant thought curiously disturbing.

She glanced at me once before rising from her seat and releasing my cock from her warm lips. She moved deftly to straddle me low over my thighs, and her head tilted first one way and then the other as she appraised me. Leaning over, she met my eyes as she coursed her tongue over her lips, and the moisture across her mouth gleamed in the candlelight as her lips again wrapped around the head of my cock.

She lifted her head and ran her tongue over the end of my cock and then took me deeply into her mouth again. I groaned and forced my ass to remain against the bed as I grasped the edges of the cot with my fingers. My side ached, and I didn’t care. All my focus was on her lips and tongue. I relinquished control and basked in the warmth of her wet mouth as she moved expertly over my shaft.

I stared at the ceiling and let her set her own pace for a moment as I reveled in the feeling of her soft mouth over my hard length. Another moan escaped me, and I caught a slight movement near the door.

As I looked to the far side of the room, I saw that the doctor had returned. His eyes widened as he looked at the scene in front of him, glancing quickly from my face to Aia’s position on her knees, bent over my cock. Narrowing my eyes, I raised my hand and flicked it out towards him, motioning him away. We looked at each other for a short time before he nodded slightly and backed away.

With my full attention back on the mouth surrounding my cock, I reached down to her and closed my eyes again. Twisting my fingers around Aia’s silky hair, I pulled her head down a little farther over my shaft.

“How much of me can you take in that beautiful throat?” I asked. I brushed strands of her hair from her forehead as I gathered it up in my hand.

Aia looked to my eyes, and I watched her relax her jaw and open her mouth to engulf more of me. She retreated as her reflexes betrayed her but quickly sucked more of me into her mouth again.

“Far enough,” I informed her, stroking her cheek. I didn’t want her to push herself further than she was able just to appease me. I was quite appeased already. “Use your tongue on me.”

Clenching my teeth, I strained to keep my hips still and not thrust forcefully into her throat. Her mouth and tongue continued to envelop me over and over again as I fought to stay still. When she trailed her fingers over my balls, I could resist no longer. With a light tilting of my hips, I grunted as the buildup of pressure found its release onto her tongue.

She didn’t stop but increased the suction against my cock until she had claimed all I had to offer. I growled in the back of my throat appreciatively as she swallowed down my essence. When she slowly backed away and let my cock loose from her lips, she looked at me with satisfaction and pride.

For many moments, I kept my eyes locked with hers while I remained in utter awe.

“You have my gratitude,” I finally panted.

“Will you now grant me your sleep?”

I smiled, chuckled low, and nodded my head as she pulled my subligarium up my body. She smoothed it back into place over my flaccid cock and then ran her hand over my stomach. She checked the bandage at my side before positioning herself back at her bench. She pushed a strand of hair off my forehead and smiled at me.

The worth of this woman tripled in my hooded eyes.

“What thoughts are in that beautiful head of yours?” I asked as I reached for Aia’s hand.

We had not touched other than the common contact of nursemaid and wounded soldier since she had taken me in her mouth. Over the past few days, Aia told me more of her life, cleaned and dressed my wound, and slept on the bench beside me at night, but we had shared nothing more intimate. I had provided her with constant innuendo because the look on her lovely face at such words often made me smile.

“Nothing of consequence,” Aia said, but her blush betrayed her.

“I know exactly what brings that look into your eye,” I teased.

“What is that, Faustus?”

“The memory of my cock in your mouth and the taste of my seed on your tongue.” I was rewarded with her blush and shy glance, but no other response was forthcoming. With another woman—a Roman woman—I might have found her actions to be coy, but there was nothing coy about Aia. There was youth and innocence despite her position but nothing coy.

Unlike women in Rome, including my late wife, Aia did not attempt childish games with me. She was forthright and quite honest when pressed, which was wholly the opposite of the Roman women I had encountered. It was refreshing.

And alluring.

“Your mouth gave me more healing than any of the salves prepared by the good doctor,” I told her.

“You flatter,” Aia responded with a half-smile, “but healing your injury requires rest, not activity of a more strenuous nature.”

“Then spread your legs over my thighs,” I suggested. “I would promise to lie still and let you do all the work.”

She looked away from my eyes again, but I could still see the corners of her mouth turn up. Releasing my hand, she picked up a clay jar of whatever salve the doctor had prepared for me and began to remove the dressing from my wound. I swallowed down a gasp as her skilled fingers worked the ointment into the stitches.

Aia applied fresh dressing over my injury and washed her hands in a small tub near the door before returning to my side. I watched her intently until her blush returned, and she averted her eyes.

“Why do you look away from me?” I asked.

“I find your gaze to be…too intense at times.”

I considered her meaning as she leaned over me to straighten the linens around my shoulders. The teasing nature of Roman women entered my head, but I knew Aia was not teasing. I wondered what she meant by her words and found it concerning.

“You fear me?”

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