Текст книги "Bend"

Автор книги: Alessandra Torre

Соавторы: Ella James,K. Bromberg
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 41 страниц)

II

“I cannot sleep like this,” I insisted. I fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was impossible. Every time I moved, there was more pain.

“You must relax,” Aia said. Her soft hand touched my forearm as she shook her head at me. “Do not try to move.”

I growled under my breath, shook her touch away, and started pushing myself up with one hand. Pain rippled down my side, and my growl changed to a groan. After three days of lying on my back in the same position, every bit of skin that touched the cot below me was raw and sore, and my muscles ached. Between the pain of the stitched wound and the uncomfortable position, I was beyond tired and irritated.

“Faustus!” Aia exclaimed with hurried voice. “You must stay still!”

“I despise being on my back like a whore!” I snapped.

“You’ll inflame your wound,” she said. “How can you heal if you don’t lie still?”

“Assist me, then!” I ordered.

I saw her frustrated glance as she moved from the bench to the other side of the bed. I continued to try to move myself to my side, but the pain was too much. A loud grunt escaped me, and Aia reached out to put her hand on my hip to steady me. At the same time, I reached for her, and as soon as I gripped the edge of her dress with my fingers, her feminine scent was all around me.

Without thought, I grabbed her waist and pulled her down to the bed. My other arm went around her shoulders, and I pressed her young body against mine. For a long moment, our eyes remained locked together—hers widened in surprise and mine heavy with sudden desire. A slight movement was enough for the tip of my nose to brush against hers.

“Perhaps the healing I need can be found between your thighs,” I said quietly.

“Tribunus…” Aia’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. I watched her throat bob up and down as she swallowed, and I reached up to brush her neck with my fingers. She dropped her gaze to my chest, and I moved my hand back around to her ass to pull her closer to me. My hardened cock pressed against her, and her mouth opened with a slight gasp.

“So many months on the battlefield without a woman,” I whispered against her cheek. “Your scent is like strong wine, and I want to drink from you. You intoxicate me.”

“Tribunus…” Her voice trailed off again, and she looked away from me.

“Faustus,” I corrected. Again, the errant thought of her uttering my first name lingered in my mind. I took her chin in my fingers and turned her head toward my face.

“Faustus.” She moved her eyes back towards mine. Her desire was unmistakable, but there was hesitation. “Your wound; I fear you would harm yourself. If you lie quietly, I can still give you the release you need.”

“I may be willing to take the chance if it means burying myself inside of you.” I punctuated the words by pulling her stomach against my shaft. Her blush was my reward. Looking for more, I jerked my hips and pressed my cock further into her stomach.

My body seized up as I barely contained a scream. The pain up my side was excruciating, and as my body stiffened in response to the sudden pain, Aia pushed herself from my arms and immediately pressed her hand to the dressing. I didn’t have to look—I could feel the blood seeping from it.

“Lie back!” she said quickly, her voice ringing out a desperate tone. “Please, Faustus!”

With her hand on my shoulder, I was again placed on my back against the mattress. The muscles of my shoulders complained immediately, but it wasn’t as bad as the pain in my side. Aia pulled up the dressing for a moment and confirmed I had indeed ripped out some of the stitches.

“I’ll fetch Sergius.”

She was gone only a few moments, but in that time, sweat covered my brow and my breathing increased until I was panting to get enough air. My chest ached along with my side, and my head began to swim.

“What did you do, woman?” Sergius cried as he fussed over the bandages.

I looked up to her distressed face.

“I did it,” I growled through clenched teeth. Anger mixed with pain, and I found myself rising to her defense. “She tried to stop me, and I obviously should have listened.”

With the doctor’s wrath directed away from the young slave, she visibly relaxed, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes. I looked from her to Sergius, trying to understand the dynamic between them, but I could determine nothing. Once again, Aia held me down as the doctor sutured the skin that had pulled away from the stitches.

“Do I need to strap you down, Tribunus?” the doctor asked.

I glared up at him, resenting his tone. It didn’t matter that he was trying to heal me; I still felt the desire to punish him for him impudence. I considered several options, including buying the hospital itself to keep him permanently under my thumb but knew such a thing would not serve Rome well. My loyalty was a singular thing, so I dismissed the thoughts in my head.

“You do not,” I replied.

He nodded succinctly, rechecked the dressing, and left us.

“Apologies, Tribunus,” Aia began as soon as he left the room. “I didn’t intend to-”

“Hush,” I commanded. “You did nothing.”

She remained unsettled until I reached out and took her by the hand. I smiled as best I could through the pain and pulled her closer to the bed.

“I have suffered far worse,” I told her. “This is not my first battle wound.”

Aia squeezed my hand gently before releasing it and moving back to her bench. She reached for a cloth and dipped it in a bowl of water and then ran the cool cloth over my forehead and down the side of my face. She continued, apparently determined to wash whatever remained of the blood of battle away from my flesh.

I closed my eyes and evened out my breaths as her ministrations lulled me. My shoulders still ached from the constant position against the bed, but I tried not to think of the discomfort. When I opened my eyes, I saw Aia looking down my body and couldn’t help but respond with a smile.

“Do you still think of it?”

Aia looked back at me.

“Of what, Faustus?”

“My cock pressed against your belly.”

She looked away, but I could still make out the crimson shade of her cheeks and neck in the glow of the candles on the table. I wanted to reach out and grab her hand again, but she was too far away.

“I’m still in need of distraction,” I reminded her.

“I think you need sleep,” Aia rebutted. Her lips pressed together, and I was sure she wanted to comment further, but chose not to do so. I found my eyes drawn to the front of her dress as she leaned over me, partially exposing one of her breasts.

Despite the discomfort, my cock took notice.

“Distract me,” I commanded again.

“I think you know everything about my life now, Faustus.”

“Then distract me another way,” I suggested. I kept my eyes on her, and when she looked to me, I raised an eyebrow and smiled suggestively.

Aia turned to drop the cloth in the bowl, and I watched her eyes as she looked down my body. From my supine position, the state of my cock was becoming noticeable. Her blush returned, and she looked back to the bowl again. Her hand trembled slightly as she wrung out the cloth and hung it beside the table.

Reaching out, I took her wrist and guided her hand to the hard length of my cock.

“How long will it be,” I asked with lowered voice, “until I can fill you with this?”

Aia’s lip trembled, and her eyelids fluttered as she looked from where her palm rested back to my eyes. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and the swell of her breasts beneath the sheer fabric of her dress rose and fell with her breathing.

“Ten days,” she said in a near-whisper. “Perhaps two weeks.”

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath through my nose. When I opened my eyes again, I caught a glimpse of Aia’s tongue as it darted over her full lips.

“A long time,” I said, “to lie with stiff cock.”

I felt her pull at her hand to remove it from the bulge beneath my undergarment, but I held her in place.

“Are you not here to give me comfort?”

“Yes, Faustus.” She looked at me.

“Then do you believe my length not enough to desire?” Again I raised an eyebrow and granted her half a smile.

“No!” she exclaimed in near-panic. “You are…quite grand.”

“Then become better acquainted with my grandeur,” I smirked.

“Feeling your desire for me is most overwhelming,” Aia admitted. “The honor of comforting a man of your grandeur has me anxious. I worry I will not be enough for you.”

Her flattery did not go unnoticed. I saw it not only with my eyes but also felt it in both heart and the hardened flesh beneath my subligarium.

“Your mouth draws forth the most beautiful music,” I said. “I would hear it sing to my cock.”

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.

III

“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?”

“No, Faustus.”

My own sense of relief at her denial of fear surprised me. I was used to people fearing me, both men and women, but I did not seek her fear.

“Then what?” I demanded. “Speak plainly.”

Our eyes met once more, and she held her gaze steady as she spoke.

“When you look at me like that, I feel quite warm inside.”

I could not stop my smile or the response of my cock at her words. I longed to warm her insides, and to feel the length of my cock buried within her. I was pleased to hear she didn’t fear me and pressed the issue.

“I could warm you further,” I offered with a raise of my eyebrows.

“You must remain still,” she said with barely a whisper. She finished straightening the linen on the bed below me and stood straight at my side. “I have concern you will be further injured.”

Reaching out, I took her hand in mine and pushed it down my body, over my stomach, and to the top of my subligarium, right above my hardened cock. Aia moistened her lips with her tongue as she stared down to where her hand covered me.

“Then you warm me.”

She took in a long, slow breath as her look darkened in desire. I observed in her eyes the moment she relented and felt a smile cross my face. She gave me the smallest of nods, and my smile widened.

I released her hand, and she drew it back slowly. Her fingers outlined me from base to tip as she reached for the top of my subligarium and loosened the woven fabric at my waist. I lifted my hips slightly to allow her to remove the cloth from me entirely, exposing my needy flesh to her eyes.

Aia knelt beside the cot and laid her head against my chest. Maneuvering my arm around to her back, I held her loosely as her hand trailed across my stomach. She took my cock in her hand and slowly stroked it as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes at the feeling.

She claimed my flesh with her fingers and palm, running them up and down slowly at first and then with an increased pace. I fought against the urge to lift my hips and meet her touch with more force. I feared moving too much, for she might be inclined to slow or even stop her actions. I slid my hand down to her thigh, pushed the hem of her dress out of my way, and found her bare ass with my hand.

I opened my eyes just a crack to watch her skilled hand on my flesh. My arm tightened around her waist as my fingers squeezed her backside. I wanted her to turn her face to me so I could capture her lips with my own, but she kept her eyes focused on her purpose. With her mouth slightly open and the sound of her shallow breaths in my ears, she was a heady sight.

I could hold back no longer.

“Aia…” I groaned as I released into her hand and across my stomach.

She continued to stroke me until I went soft in her palm and then slowly untangled herself from my arm to retrieve the cloth and bowl of water. She washed me first and then cleaned her own hand of my seed.

I watched her efficiency in silence.

* * *

After more than a week at the medicus’ residence, I was finally able to lie on my side. The relief I felt in my sore back and ass was enough to make me groan with pleasure as I relaxed into a different position. The gash down my side still ached, but the pain was much less than before.

With my back now facing Aia’s usual place on the bench beside the cot, I couldn’t see her, and I found the realization distressing. I called her over to the other side of the bed, and she complied. Kneeling beside the cot, she took my hand in hers.

“Are you in pain?” she inquired.

“Nothing of consequence,” I replied. I dropped my eyes to the linens on the bed and judged the space there.

“Come,” I said. As I pulled her hand, I saw hesitation in Aia’s eyes. “Lie here with me.”

“Will you be still?” she asked quietly.

I nodded once, and she hesitated but a moment before rising from the floor and positioning herself on the cot at my side. I wrapped my arms around her small form and held her against me. She placed her hand on my chest, carefully avoiding the dressings around my wound.

For some time, we simply lay together on the cot, and Aia distracted me with more tales of learning to bake when she was young. Her stories had become so vivid, I could practically smell the bread with the warm, intoxicating scents of wheat, yeast, and herbs as it was removed from the oven. The contrast to my own childhood was not lost on me. It conjured forth memories of my father, a cold and unforgiving man. He was absent for most of my young life as he took his place on the steps of the Senate where he still spent most of his days. I had often been told I resembled him in attitude. There were also brief glimpses of my mother, whose social obligations left me to be raised by the slaves of the household. I barely knew her before she died. I had heard rumors of my father having her killed, and I did not doubt them.

As daylight began to fade, Aia brushed her fingertips over my shoulder and began to remove herself to the bench where she usually slept.

“Would you stay beside me?” The thought left my lips in the form of a question, and I found it odd I had phrased it in such a way. I could have commanded her to do so, but I realized I wanted her to desire it as much as I did.

“Of course, Faustus,” Aia replied as she settled back into my arms.

“This room is cold,” I said. Why I found it necessary to explain myself was mystery. I looked down her body as I ran my hand from her hip up to her shoulder. “You are warm.”

Our eyes locked over each other’s gaze, and we both paused. If Caesar himself had entered the room, I couldn’t have drawn my look from her deep blue eyes. I was a prisoner to them. My fingers twitched without order from me to do so as I moved them from her shoulder back to her side. I realized I had not drawn breath since our eyes had met, and I attempted to release the air slowly.

I still hadn’t looked away from her gaze. Her eyes grew soft, hooded, and the desire I found in them unmistakable. Her fingers traced the planes of my chest and then continued down to my stomach.

“You touch me as a lover would,” I remarked, “not just as my nurse.”

I smiled at her blush as she looked away.

“I think you desire my touch,” I teased.

“You are gentle.”

I widened my eyes at her.

“Gentle?” I huffed a short laugh through my nose. “I have not ever heard that particular word used to describe me.”

I watched her for a long moment.

“What do you know of me?” I asked.

Aia moved her eyes to my chest as she spoke.

“You command one of Caesar’s legions in the west, against the Gauls,” she said. “You had a wife and child, but they passed into the afterlife some time ago, and you have never remarried. Your father is a senator in Rome, and your family holds more coin than the gods themselves.”

She looked back to me.

“Or so I have heard.”

My mouth twitched in a grin, but it was short-lived. What she knew was truth, but it was not the knowledge she needed to understand with whom she had lain.

“I am a soldier,” I said quietly. “I’ve moved through your homeland, destroying everything I encountered—burning villages, killing men, enslaving children, and raping women before I slit their throats—and you call me gentle?”

I felt her body tense at my harsh words, and my stomach twisted. Oddly enough, it was important to me that she knew the black heart of the man she apparently desired.

“You are gentle with me,” was all she whispered in reply.

I suppose I had been, in my own way. I’d also snapped at her more frequently than not, but I did hold her in highest appreciation for her steadfastness. Yes, she had been commanded to tend to me, but the manner in which she did so was more than expected. Still, her description of me I found most inaccurate, and as I thought a moment, I wondered what young Aia may have endured at the hands of her Dominus that made her consider me anything but a brute.

“And your master?”

She tilted her head away from my gaze.

“He is…rough and quick.” There was more to her thoughts than her mouth revealed, but I decided not to press the issue. I didn’t want my own mind to wander in the direction of Aia in the arms of her Dominus. Considering how many business ventures Cassianus indulged, I doubted he spent much time at the hospital at all. I hadn’t laid eyes on the man since I had arrived.

“The doctor?” I inquired, and her lips turned into a tight-lipped smile.

“A brooding soul,” she said, “and one who prefers the company of men. He is quite harsh at times and quick to…to discipline.”

The idea enraged me.

What I said to her before was true—I was considered more beast than man when it came to my enemies. I cared not for the outcome of those I sent into slavery or to the mines and was more likely to order the deaths of my captives than bother with forcing them into servitude. Those who did not see the value of the Roman Empire and Caesar’s rule were irrelevant; their choice was to succumb or perish. They would either die at my hands on the battlefield or serve Rome in some other capacity until their untimely deaths at the hands of their masters or in the gladiators’ arena. The unfamiliar concern for how the doctor treated this young slave girl sat in the pit of my gut like sour wine.

Did my own slaves fare better?

No, they were often worse off at the hands of their betters in my household, but I cared nothing for them. They could all be replaced with a handful of coins. But Aia? She was different.

I trailed my fingers up her side and over her arm. When I reached her shoulder, my hand lingered and experienced the softness of her warm skin for a moment. I dragged my tongue over my dry lips as I cupped her chin and finally looked back to her eyes.

They were wide, deep blue, and they burned into me. I moved slowly as I changed my focus to her full lips, to her eyes, and then back again. Diminishing the gap between us to nothing, our lips finally met. I could feel my body’s desire to invade her mouth with my tongue as I would invade the lands of the savages fighting against Rome, but I restrained myself.

Gentle.

I pressed my lips firmly but slowly. I tilted my head first one way and then the other. She warmed my lips, and I felt her mouth part for me when I pressed my tongue to her. Moving my hand to the back of her head, I entwined my fingers in her hair and held her fast as I tasted her.

My cock took notice of the close proximity of her thighs, and made itself known to her. My hands traveled over the skin of her back, and her warmth seeped into me. I pushed the top of her dress away from her shoulders, exposing her firm breasts to my eyes. Needing more, I dropped my hand to her thigh and pushed the cloth of her dress up, exposing her backside. Reaching low, my hand found the sweet spot between her thighs.

She was wet with her desire, and I found the will to resist the pain in my side much weaker than the will to keep my cock from finding its way into her body. I pushed at the top of my subligarium, releasing my turgid shaft.

“Please,” Aia whispered as our lips parted, “let me offer you release as I have before.”

“I do not want simple release,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to feel your body give way to mine. I want to feel your flesh engulf my cock. I want to taste your sweat as we merge into one. Simple release is no longer enough.”

“Faustus…”

“Lucius,” I said as my mouth covered hers again,

“Lucius,” she repeated in a moan against my lips.

The thoughts in my head beat against my skull as a warhorse’s hooves beat the ground of the battlefield in pursuit of a retreating enemy. My heart pounded in my chest at the sound of my name. With my cock in hand, I pressed the tip to the apex of her legs, seeking entrance. The need to be inside her was overwhelming, and holding back no longer seemed possible.

I was not an emotional man; some would say to a fault. Perhaps it was the awkward position of needing her these past weeks that brought such feelings into my soul, or maybe it was just Aia—her demeanor, her deep blue eyes, and her soft, caring hands.

Breaking our kiss, I stared at her for a long moment. With my cock mere inches from its goal, I slipped my hand from her hair, traced a fingertip over her cheek, down her jawline, and finally cupped her chin. I kissed her again, and she again moaned.

“Lucius…”

“Beautiful music,” I said quietly as I traced my thumb over her lower lip. “Do you enjoy the taste of my name in your mouth?”

I didn’t wait for her response but pressed my lips to hers. I moved slowly against her, just barely touching her lips with my tongue. Her hot breath covered my face, and I again gripped my shaft and positioned myself to claim her.

She enveloped me, embraced me, and drew me in. She slowly raised her leg up and over my hip, careful not to brush against the wound at my side, and I pulled her ass against me to bury myself in her completely.

“Slowly,” she whispered. “Please, Lucius.”

I thrilled to the idea, holding her softly in my arms as I moved our bodies together. Her skin was like silk beneath my palms, and the sweet smell of her breath surrounded me. Taking her slowly was all too glorious a plan though my cock wanted its release. She felt magnificent…divine…right.

Aia moved with me, attempting to better the angle to ease my passage in and out of her warm channel. I could feel the heel of her foot against the lower part of my back as she pulled me into her in slow, peaceful rhythms. The action still pained my side, but I ignored it.

With my hand over her ass, I thrust deep inside her and stayed where I was, rotating my hips against her pubic bone in slow, rhythmic circles. Aia gasped, and her hand moved to clench my arm as she looked up into my eyes, and I captured her mouth.

She moaned as I moved, nearly crying out as my tongue searched her mouth and found the sweetest of treasures there. No amount of coin could compare with this. There was no price to be put on the feeling I experienced as we moved together.