Page 16 of The Legionary Seduction (Roman Heirs #2)
M ax eyed the bed, a lumpy mattress spread with a worn woolen blanket. Volusia had collapsed into it as soon as they’d entered the room, and fallen asleep immediately. Her sprawled form took up almost all of it. They would have to get very cozy tonight, unless Max decided to do the honorable thing and sleep on the floor.
He wished he could fall asleep as easily as Volusia had, but the stress of their journey still had its claws in him. He paced the short length of the room, unable to sit still despite the soreness of his legs and ache in his feet.
His thoughts turned to Elephant once more. Worry squeezed his chest whenever he thought of her. Were Glabrio and his men taking care of her? What if they didn’t get the tangles in her mane out and it snagged on a branch? What if they didn’t rub her down properly and she caught a chill?
He tried to take a deep breath. Thoughts were racing in his head like bees around a hive. Elephant would be fine. If there was one thing soldiers knew, it was how to take care of a horse.
A knock came at the door, and Max let in two young women carrying a large vat of steaming water. “Thank you,” he said as they set it in the middle of the room along with a small bottle of oil and some clean cloths. He handed them a coin, and they nodded and left. The tub wasn’t big enough to sit or lie down in, but it was far better than nothing.
Max went to the bed and gently shook Volusia’s shoulder. She woke with a start, gazing up at him with unfocused eyes.
“Our bath is here,” he said. “I thought you might want to go first.”
“That’s kind of you.” She heaved herself out of bed and went to check the temperature of the water. “Oh, that feels good.” She bent to remove her dirt-crusted sandals.
Max turned around, realizing she was about to start undressing. “I could, er, go back downstairs…”
She gave a short laugh. “I’m much too tired to be modest, Max.” Fabric flickered in the corner of his gaze.
Instinctively, his head turned to catch the movement. Her dress was in a heap on the ground, and her lithe body was completely bare.
His breath stuck in his throat as he beheld her. Fucking Dis, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her back was to him, but that view was more than enough. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the fine bones of her shoulders, the elegant line of her spine, and the lush curve of her bottom. Her skin was dirty and marred with scrapes and bruises, but nothing detracted from her beauty.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice a hoarse growl. “I hope you know that.”
She tossed a smile at him over her shoulder as she stepped into the tub of water. “Language, Max.”
Legs unsteady, he stumbled over to the bed and sat on the edge. Desire welled up in him as his gaze continued to devour the sight of her bare body. His cock hardened inside his braccae, and he curled his hands into fists at his sides as he watched her.
Standing in the calf-high water, she splashed some water over herself, then leaned down to pick up the small vial of oil. The sight of her bending over almost made Max pass out. She poured a small measure of oil into her hand. She rubbed it over her arms, chest, belly, and legs, then scrubbed a damp cloth over her skin to remove it.
“Would you perhaps help me with my back?” she asked.
It took a moment for her words to enter his lust-addled brain. “You...me…help?”
“I can’t reach it myself.” She turned slightly to hold out the vial of oil, and he glimpsed the curve of her breast, tipped with a pink nipple.
The sight was enough to propel him to his feet. He crossed the distance to her, took the oil, and poured some into his hand. She turned around, sweeping her hair over one shoulder to leave her back completely bare. He could smell the light perfume of the oil, and could see the tiny hairs that covered the back of her neck.
He bit his lip, then touched his hand to her shoulder blade. Gently, he rubbed the oil over her skin. He could feel her bones shifting beneath his hand, but he knew better than to think her fragile.
She leaned into his touch. His hands traveled down her spine, finding the sore spots and trying to soothe them. There was a sensitive spot near her waist that made her gasp and arch her back. Her bottom knocked against his hips, making full contact with his cock, now achingly hard.
He drew in a sharp breath, wondering if she would be scandalized. She was no innocent maiden, after all; she knew what she’d felt. She knew he wanted her.
His oiled hand lingered on her hip. “Do you want me to wipe it off now?” A stack of clean cloths rested on the floor just to the side.
She tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder with a sigh. “I don’t want you to stop touching me.”
Her quiet words hung in the air. She wanted him—at least in this small way. And he was prepared to give her anything she wanted.
His fingers slid down to grasp a handful of her firm, round bottom. His cock throbbed. “Fuck, Volusia,” he growled.
“Language,” she whispered.
His other hand moved around to her front, skimming up her stomach and over the ridges of her ribs. He stopped when his thumb brushed the warm underside of her breast, hesitating, hardly able to believe he was really touching her like this. She gave a soft sigh, and he raised his hand to cup her breast. He couldn’t hold back the groan that rumbled in his chest at the feel of her breast filling his hand. Her nipple puckered against his fingers, and she shivered when he ran his thumb lightly over it.
Abruptly, she turned toward him, stepping out of the small tub. Water dripped on the floor, and he should have handed her a cloth to dry herself with, but her heated gaze captured him, her hazel eyes reflecting his own desire and longing. She reached for him, and before he knew what was happening, her hands were on his body, grabbing the hem of his tunic and tugging it over his head.
He tossed the filthy tunic to the floor and swept her into a kiss. He reveled in the softness of her mouth, the wet slide of her tongue against his—but broke off in a gasp as her hand closed around his throbbing cock through his braccae.
“Oh, my,” she whispered, staring down at the stiffness that filled her hand with an expression that looked something like wonder. Max realized that though she might not be a maiden, the passionless marriage she’d described had likely given her little experience with an aroused male who hungered for her touch.
Her fingers found the ties to his braccae, and with a few deft pulls, she rendered him as bare as she was. The feel of her soft, warm, naked body against his skin was what he imagined Elysium felt like.
They stumbled toward the bed. He meant to lay her down and begin a campaign of pleasuring her thoroughly, but instead she maneuvered to press him down onto the bed and perch at his side, feet tucked delicately beneath her thighs. Her hand found his cock once more, and every muscle in his body shivered against the scratchy blanket as she stroked him, her hand still slippery from the oil. The look on her face was rapt, intent, as she worked her hand up and down.
With painful effort, he summoned the presence of mind to grab her wrist. He was supposed to be pleasuring her . “Stop, please.”
“You don’t like it?” Her brow wrinkled.
“Oh, I like it very much,” he assured her.
“Then be quiet,” she said sternly.
He shut his mouth and surrendered to her touch. She stroked him slowly, almost experimentally, varying her movements as if to gauge his reactions. It was torment, but Max was happy to suffer for her.
The sweet agony built with every ragged breath. His hands clutched fistfuls of the blanket, knuckles straining, until finally pleasure burst over him like a sudden thunderclap. He exploded over her hand, his seed coating her delicate yet very talented fingers. He half-expected her to pull away in disgust, but instead she kept stroking until he reached out to stay her hand as the tremors stopped.
His body relaxed, limp and powerless, into the straw mattress. Volusia leaned over him to brush a kiss onto his forehead. “Thank you,” she murmured.
He was fairly sure he was supposed to be thanking her for what just happened, but he wasn’t yet capable of speech.
She rose from the bed and fetched a damp cloth to wipe her hand and clean him. Then, she curled herself against his side, resting her head on his chest. He draped an arm over her. For a blissful moment, all of their troubles—the loss of Elephant, the fact that their families would soon think them dead, the revelation of corruption in the highest ranks of the army—seemed miles away. He could even feel a touch of gratitude for Petronax’s treachery. Without it, there was no way he’d be here, naked in a bed with Volusia.
He tried to sit up, though his body felt like lead. He needed to show her the pleasure she deserved.
Volusia put a gentle hand on his chest, guiding his body back down to the bed. “Sleep, Max.”
“But I want to—”
“I know what you want, and I want it too.” She found his hand and twined her fingers through his. “There will be time for that later. For now, sleep.”
His eyes fell shut. He wanted to protest more, but a wave of exhaustion was already pulling him under, and he finally allowed himself to succumb.