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  He pushed and pulled as he felt his scrotum tightening and his excitement grew with each shuddering breath. When he pulled her to her feet and pushed her tunic up her thighs, she cried out and stepped away from him. “You know I’d never let you do that to me,” she whispered angrily to him in the dark. Lucius chuckled and approached her with a hand held out. She was like a wild rabbit afraid of a hawk’s shadow.

  “I wasn’t going to. I was just going to return the favor,” he told her as he pushed her tunic up again. He found the spot between her milky, soft thighs that made her melt and she forgot that she thought he was going to enter her. The women in the camp knew that if they became pregnant, they would be on the streets as beggars the next morning.

  Lucius parted her legs gently as she stumbled against a rough tree trunk, and he found her moist core with his fingers. She took three easily and he put his lips to her swollen nub. Her body convulsed around him almost immediately and he wondered if the man who had claimed her as his was as attentive. Her fingers curled in his brunette hair and her breaths became ragged as he suckled her. When he felt her convulsing, he pulled away from her and shoved her down so that she could greedily take his cock into her mouth.

  He thrust forward and she took him into the hilt, halting her breath between his thrusts. Then she felt his thick organ pulsing inside her mouth and swallowed the hot streams of his orgasm. She sucked him dry and stood with her thumb to her lips. Lucius watched her wipe away the last of him with a flick of her tongue and leaned against the tree where she had leaned just seconds before.

  Her hips sashayed nicely in the moonlight as she hurried off to find the boar that was lucky enough to have won her over in a bet. He would have her for the entire night, and Lucius found that to be a shame. He pulled down his tunic and slipped his sandals back on. Then he made his way back to his tent for a good night’s rest before his second gladiator battle the next morning.

  They were gathering their belongings in the morning when Julius approached Lucius and wished him luck in the arena. “It’s a big one, so there’s going to be some deaths today. I hope you’re not one of them,” Julius said seriously. They had grasped each other’s arms before they stood parted ways to head to the arena separately. The feast had already taken place the night before and a large breakfast complimented with a drink made from the ash of plants had made Lucius feel full rather than energized.

  He adorned his armor and wielded his axe like he had done in his first battle and ignored the jeers from the men that had come from out of the city. His reputation for being a man who fought for love was one of his selling points and made the crowd stomp their feet and clap their hands when his face hit the sunlight. They marched around the arena as bets were placed and finally ended in front of the emperor’s podium.

  He was there, as always, and was wearing his purple toga to symbolize his power and status in the empire. Then his hand went up to silence the crowd and he smiled at the gladiators. “Welcome,” he boomed. Then they took an oath, and they were paired.

  Lucius took to the shadows as he listened to the names being called, and his heart sank as his body broke out in a cold sweat when he realized he was paired up with the man who had become his friend, Julius. Their gazes locked and Julius gave him a brave smile before he found his place in the shadows with the others.

  Several fights took place before it was their turn to walk into the arena, and the dirt was caked with blood. It made it difficult for Lucius and Julius to obtain purchase with their footing, but they were determined to be the one who survived the fight. Friendship was forgotten as their axes were raised and the manager of the games called out for them to being.

  Their axes clashed like two swords and Lucius blocked a swipe of Julius’ foot by planting his firmly in the dirt. Their body came together and their gazes met as they tried to wrestle their opponent’s weapon from the other. Finally, Lucius gained the upper hand and broke free from the hold Julius had on his wrist.

  Chapter Six

  The men tried to catch their breath as the crowd began to heckle them. Julius rolled his shoulders and bared his teeth as Lucius rushed him, but he was too late. His axe swung through the air and missed Lucius by a few inches, and the feeling of the blade slicing through the air so close to his arm only propelled him forward.

  He had his axe raised and was about to bury it in Julius skull to give him a quick, clean death when a flash of red hair caught his attention. Julius was given enough time to recover as Lucius searched the crowd for the woman he sought. Then he saw her standing just behind the emperor’s podium and his heart sank. Her hair was pulled back and plated neatly and her hands were clasped in front of her. She wore jewels and fine garments, even for someone of the royal family.

  “No,” he whispered as he saw the emperor motion for her to come forward and fetch his wine.

  The anger at seeing her as one of the emperor’s slave women drove him to do what he did next. He’d lost Alba, but he would not lose another friend to the silly whims of those above him. Lucius swept out his leg and toppled Julius to the ground in one, foul swoop. Then he raised his axe and Julius put his index finger in the air. The game manager asked the crowd if they believe Julius should live or die.

  There were nasty jeers and some sad faces, but in the end, the emperor chose to allow Julius to live. He was in a good mood that day, and Lucius did not want to know why. He wondered if the poor, sweet woman he’d known since they were children had fallen prey to the emperor’s hands.

  “Thank you,” Julius whispered to him as they exited the arena. Lucius did not hear for he was still searching the crowd for the redheaded woman he’d lost, but she was nowhere in sight.

  A female slave approached him slowly with a bowl and a dull blade to scrape the sweat from his body to be put into the creams and perfumes of the wealthy women. Lucius sat down on a stool as he allowed his armor to be stripped off and dropped his axe between his feet. He leaned on the handle as the woman did her work gently and efficiently.

  He put his weapon and armor away in a haze as he tried to think of what he could do. Julius met him before he could go back into the arena and demand the attention of the emperor. “Where are you going so fast?” he asked as he blocked Lucius’ attempt at dodging him.

  “Alba is the emperor’s slave,” he spat with hatred and disgust.

  “And you think you can march out there and demand her back? You have no tact, Lucius. The emperor will not concede a slave in front of thousands of people for one, measly gladiator who barely won his battle today. You don’t have enough money, yet.” Julius gripped Lucius’ upper arms tightly in his grasp and pushed him away from the sunlight that would lead to Alba.

  “But she was a peasant of this country before he took her! He had not right to take someone who was born here,” Lucius argued feebly. He knew he had no clout yet, but if he waited a few more fights, he might have enough to buy Alba back from the emperor. Julius had a point, though. The emperor would not concede a slave to a gladiator for a measly amount of money. He would need leverage, too.

  That night, he sat at the banquet for the winner and even took a woman to the shadows, but he thought about Alba. He imagined it was her red hair and her stormy, gray eyes staring back at him while he pushed into her. At that moment, he realized he wanted Alba more than he wanted any other woman, and he’d do anything to have a chance to win her back in order to show her how much he cared.

  Lucius threw himself into the ring and picked up the heaviest sword he could find. “Teach me,” he demanded of Spurius. The older man picked up a light, short sword and a shield. Then he twisted the sword around in his hand a few times.

  “Okay, but only if you make me a promise,” he said quietly as he stepped to the center of the ring. There were no witnesses as everyone was still sleeping off their drink from the night before, but Spurius trusted that Lucius would keep his word.

  “What?” Lucius asked to entertain his manager.

  “Pr
omise me you’ll fight for one year after you get her back,” he said as he looked into Lucius’ eyes. The two of them stood there for a long time in silence. Lucius knew Spurius was asking him to potentially die after he got everything he wanted, but he needed to learn how to fight with all of the weapons before he would be able to wow the crowd enough to get the emperor’s attention.

  “I’ll fight for one year after I get her back, if I get her back,” he spat on the ground after he said the words and lunged at Spurius. As if the ease of the fight had never left him, Spurius easily parried the blow with his shield and side stepped. Lucius lost his footing and toppled to the ground with his heavy sword.

  “Fine, I’ll teach you. Lesson number one, don’t always pick up the heaviest, longest sword you can find. You’re quicker on your feet than you are strong, Lucius.” He tapped the tip of his shorter sword to Lucius’ shoulder to make a point.

  They had fought long into the morning before the others woke to find breakfast. Spurius knew that Lucius would become his best fighter if he spent the time with him, and he made a silent vow to do just that.

  Book 2 in the Rescuing Alba series can be found here! Also available for borrow or sale!

  Book 3 in the Rescuing Alba series can be found here! Also available for borrow or sale!

  Dorothy sat down exhausted, resting herself on the soft grass. Walking all day long was taxing on her, and her companions were all tired as well. Dorothy and her three friends were out walking all day, enjoying the sights and sound of the electronic music festival, Yellow Brick Carnival.

  Dorothy wore her favorite blue mini skirt and a white tank top which was damp from the water that was sprayed on the crowd. It was the middle of July, so even when the sun went down the temperature remained in the upper 90s.

  “I’m so tired,” Dorothy complained to her group of friends. None of her girlfriends wanted to go with her, so she brought along three guy friends, Carey, Lionel, and Tink.

  Carey was a thrift shop worker who would shop where he worked, keeping his eyes peeled for gems being brought in for donation. His wardrobe was heavily inspired by earth tones, if one could imagine a hipster farmer, that was Carey. His personality was fairly stereotypical, intelligence matching his straw colored hair.

  Lionel was a powerlifter who competed and crushed many state and regional records. He was a powerful man, with shoulders resembled concrete filled balloons and traps that nearly touched his ears. Wearing a bright colored tank top, he showed off his muscle mass in the hot summer sun. Although he was nearly six and a half feet tall and over 275 pounds lean, he was a gentle giant who wouldn’t hurt a soul. Not because he was a pacifist, but because he was too timid and intimidated by conflict.

  Tink worked long hours on the oil rigs in Texas. He would be gone for a few months, then come back home for a few weeks with pockets full of money that he would spend at the bars. Tink being a player was an understatement, easily pulling groups of girls back to his beach house and having his way with them. Tonight was going to be no different, his fingers working hard texting a bunch of girls he met earlier in the day.

  “The night is hardly over,” Lionel said, glancing at his cell phone. “It’s barely 1 yet. There are still a few more acts playing too.” The music was still playing off in the distance. They could all feel the bass rumbling the ground under their asses.

  “I definitely wanna go back out there.” He looked at the other three lounging in the grass. Tink was busy mashing buttons on his phone, preparing for a hookup. Carey looked like he was already asleep in the grass. Lionel raised his eyebrows and motioned with his hands when he made eye contact with Dorothy. She looked into the sky, thinking for a second, before smiling and jumping up.

  “I’ll go with you, but only if you give me a piggy back ride the whole way there,” she said with a smile, knowing Lionel would agree. He looked at her and grinned ear to ear before turning around allowing her to jump on him.

  Lionel made the short trek back to the main concert with Dorothy on his back. The temperature was in the mid 90s, but all the bodies bunched together made it feel a dozen degrees warmer. The temperature mixed with the ever present scent of marijuana in the air made it hard to breathe in the sea of people, so the two stayed in the far back of the crowd.

  Lionel bent down to let Dorothy down, who started dancing frivolously. Lionel couldn’t dance very well do to his mass, so he just fist bumped with the music, trying his best not to look awkward.

  He looked at Dorothy dancing, every so often her skirt would ride up and so off her healthy ass. She had the kind of flawless ass that had no dimples or anything. Lionel’s mind raced as he watched her, his brain making him nervous as he started to get a little hard.

  Dorothy backed up on to Lionel and started grinding on him, enjoying the music.

  Oh shit, I’m sure she can feel me Lionel thought, sweating from the weather and the situation. She could, but didn’t mind. Her body continued to gyrate in front of Lionel, every so often grinding her ass hard into him. Dorothy turned around and faced Lionel, putting her hands around the back of his neck and twisting her body seductively on his front. She started high then worked her way down, until she was face to face with his cock and started popping her booty.

  Lionel couldn’t help but look down at her ass, flexing himself forcing blood into his mushroom tip. Dorothy noticed the movement in his cargo shorts and rose back up. At she was near standing erect, she jumped on Lionel and wrapped her legs around him. She started dry humping him, still dancing and enjoying the music, holding one arm around his neck and the other arm high in the air.

  Dorothy let out a triumphant scream of joy, wooing at the music. When she finished screaming she looked Lionel in the eyes and kissed him on the lips.

  Lionel was so shocked at the action he nearly came right there from excitement.

  Dorothy hopped down off of Lionel, still smiling and looking him in the eyes. She pinched his ass and took him by the hand, leading him into the sea of people.

  When she stopped walking they were surrounded on all sides by people enjoying the music. She took his hand and and placed it on her stomach before dancing on him close. There was no choice but to do it with limited amount of space available.

  What’s going on here? Lionel’s mind was racing, unsure of what exactly was going on. Why did she kiss me? What’s she doing with my hand now?

  Dorothy took his hand and moved it farther down. He could begin to feel the short stubble from her three day old shave. She began grinding harder into him, as he was getting harder and harder the whole time.

  She pushed his hand further, until he was able to feel the moisture from her pussy. He could feel that she was already soaking wet, so he worked his hand down until he had a finger inside her.

  Dorothy gasped at the penetration, craned her neck back and started kissing Lionel again. All the while he was wiggling his finger around inside of her, trying to get her off. He had one hand in her skirt and moved the other one from the fist pump to her stomach, wrapping his arm around her.

  All the while his eyes were open, still afraid of being caught. He was unsure what would be the consequence of them being caught in this promiscuous situation, and didn’t want to find out.

  Lionel’s cock was as erect as it could be, still being constrained by his cargo shorts. He felt a hand unzipping his shorts, and the same hand reaching in and touching his pecker.

  He looked down and saw that Dorothy had arranged her skirt to cover her hand playing with his cock.

  Oh shit, oh shit. I can’t be doing this. We’re going to be caught. Fuck. Lionel’s mind continued on, and he was scared. He thought people were looking at them, when in all reality everyone was too focused on having their own good time.

  Lionel couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his hands out from Dorothy’s panties, pulled her hand out of his pants, and zipped his shorts up. Dorothy turned to him, mouthing the words “what’s wrong?”, looking confused. That was the last th
ing Lionel saw before he turned around and walked straight through the crowd of people, with Dorothy on his tail the whole time.

  Dorothy managed to stop Lionel long enough to begin asking him questions. They were far enough away from the crowd to hear each other, and secluded behind a row of food trucks.

  “What’s wrong?” Dorothy pleaded.

  “I don’t like doing what we were doing!” Lionel had damn near started to have a panic attack. “What if we get caught.”

  “We aren’t going to get caught. No one is paying attention to us,” Dorothy reasoned. “Besides, no one can see anything anyways. I have my skirt on remember?”

  Lionel started to contemplate the consequences of his actions, and weighing out the pros and cons. He knew it had been months since the last time he had any sexual encounter with anyone, and this would break his dry spell.

  “Plus, what are they going to do if they catch us? Kick us out of the festival? It’s over tomorrow!” Dorothy did have a good point.

  She walked towards him and gave him a hug, looking up into his eyes before saying “you don’t want to fuck me?”

  Not only was Lionel being talked into doing this in public, he was being talked into fucking her as well.