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The Gladiator’s Touch
    T he scent of lust was thick in the air.
    As I descended the steps into the ludus , the training school for gladiators, led by Septus, the Dominus’
right hand man, nerves fluttered in my belly. Nerves, and also anticipation.
    I was to be given to Marius the Undefeated,
a gift as he ascended to his new position as Doctore —teacher— of the ludus.
    The other gladiators jeered as I
followed the male slave down the corridor of the men’s quarters. Comments on my
breasts, my thighs, my lips showered down upon my ears, but I was not affected.
I did not care what these men thought.
    I cared only for the man to whom I would
belong.
    “Enter.” Septus gestured impatiently
toward the room at the far end of the corridor, one whose entrance was covered
with a heavy curtain of faded cloth. Unlike the other men, Marius had private
quarters—he had earned them through his prowess in the arena.
    I was grateful that we would be hidden
from prying eyes as he sampled my flesh and decided if he would have me for his
own.
    “Gratitude.” My voice was soft as I
spoke to the slave, who I knew did not care. He was already walking away, his
mind back upstairs with the Dominus who treated him as a treasured pet.
    Slowly, so slowly, I drew the curtain
open enough to let me into the room. The fabric wicked away the nervous sweat
that slicked my palms, and I wished that it could absorb my apprehension, as
well.
    “Come in.” I heard the words before my
wide eyes located their speaker. I started, though I had known that he would be
there, waiting for me.
    Casting my eyes to the floor, I clasped
my hands in front of me, letting the long waves of my pale hair fall in front
of my face.
    “I am sent by the Dominus, a gift for
Marius the Undefeated.” I could not seem to speak louder than a whisper. Now
that I was here, now that I knew what was expected of me, I trembled. This was
a man who made giants and killers tremble, a man who had slain warriors and
great beasts.
    What would he do with me?
    “You are Cassia.” I heard him approach,
but did not look up. Heat warmed my back as he pulled me close to his hard
frame, and I felt fingers sift through the strands of my hair. “I did not know
who was being sent.”
    I shivered as those fingers grazed the
side of my neck. They were rough, battle hardened, and scraped against my skin.
    “I only hope to please you.” If I did
not, I would be beaten by the Dominus.
    Those hands travelled over my shoulders,
measuring their breadth, then down to skim over my breasts. My nipples peaked
and I arched into the surprising pleasure of the touch, but he continued his
exploration of my body, tracing the curves of my waist, my hips, before
travelling back up my frame.
    “Aah.” I gasped as Marius caught my
throat in one of those massive hands and urged me to turn. I did, and only then
looked at the gladiator straight on.
    I had watched him in the arena, in the
training yard, but nothing had prepared me for the sight of him up close. His
body was hard as the stones of the walls in this house, and his jaw and cheeks
seemed to have been sculpted by an artist. His hair was cropped short, as were
all the men’s, but was still messy, soft spikes of true black that I itched to
run my fingers through.
    His eyes were a dark blue, sea blue, and
were regarding me with curiosity and desire.
    “You do not need to fear me.” He
squeezed, just the slightest bit, that hand that was still at my throat. “I see
enough pain, enough violence in the arena.”
    “I... I do not fear you.” No, I did not
fear him—he had no cause to hurt me. I was here to bring him pleasure and
relief, hopefully more than could be provided by the occasional whores that
were snuck in and that the Dominus turned a blind eye to.
    “I will never hurt you.” Releasing my
throat, Marius loosened the ties that held my toga in place. The soft, light
wool slithered down my body, awakening sensation as it went, and then I