(Dear Readers, this chapter contains NSFW scenes, so if you are not interested in reading such content, please proceed to the next chapter.)
Livia's private chambers occupied an entire wing of the palace, a world of luxury that blended Roman tradition with oriental exoticism – vibrant fabrics on the walls, soft cushions scattered over low divans, and rare artifacts that few common Romans would see in their entire lifetime.
The atrium was an intimate space illuminated by perfumed oil lamps, with a small fountain in the center creating a gentle melody with its water. Helena and two other slave women worked silently, preparing a low table with a selection of delicacies – exotic fruits, fine breads, delicate meats, and rare wines.
"Leave us," Livia ordered when the preparations were complete. The slaves discreetly retreated, closing the doors as they left.
As soon as they were alone, Livia dispensed with all pretense of aristocratic decorum. Her gaze ran over Lucius with an intensity that spoke of barely contained desire.
"Finally," she said, approaching with deliberate steps. "I'm tired of pretending formalities in front of my father and the servants."
"An exhausting role to continuously interpret," commented Lucius, remaining motionless as she approached, letting her come to him – a small demonstration of control.
"You have no idea." Livia stopped one step away, close enough to feel the heat of his body. "Since childhood, I've been trained to be the perfect Senator's daughter. Modest in public, obedient at home, always aware of my 'responsibility to the family.'"
"And yet, here you are," observed Lucius, "defying expectations with a gladiator in your private chambers."
A slow smile formed on her lips. "This is my only space of freedom. Here, I can be who I really am, without the critical eyes of the Senate or my father's suffocating expectations."
"And who are you really, Livia Cassia?" he asked, his voice deliberately lower.
In response, she eliminated the distance between them, pressing her body against his as her lips sought his with an urgency that spoke of desire repressed throughout a day of formalities. The kiss contained nothing of the delicacy expected from a woman of her position – it was voracious, almost savage in its intensity.
When they finally separated to breathe, her eyes had darkened with desire. "Does that answer your question?" she whispered against his lips.
"It has only begun to answer," retorted Lucius, his hands finding her waist in a firm grip.
Livia smiled, clearly appreciating his audacity. "The banquet can wait," she decided, pulling him toward her most private chamber. "I have other more urgent appetites at the moment."
The personal chamber was even more luxurious than the atrium – a huge bed covered with the finest silks from Syria, soft lighting from alabaster lamps, and exotic aromas of rare incense. As soon as the door closed, Livia transformed – the aristocratic dignity completely disappeared, replaced by an almost savage physical passion.
Her hands impatiently pulled at Lucius's tunic, revealing his torso sculpted by months of brutal training. "Perfect," she whispered, her fingers tracing the battle scars with almost reverent fascination.
Lucius allowed her to explore for a few moments before taking control of the situation. With a quick movement that demonstrated his superior strength, he lifted her easily, eliciting a cry of surprise and excitement before throwing her onto the bed.
"The others weren't like this," said Livia, eyes wide as she watched Lucius remove the rest of his clothes. "Always so eager to please, so fearful, so... obedient."
"That's why you tire of them so quickly," Lucius responded, his voice now laden with authority as he approached the bed like a predator. "You don't want a servant in your bed. You want someone who makes you forget who you are for a few hours."
The shock and excitement on her face confirmed that he had touched on a truth that she had perhaps never admitted to herself. Before she could respond, Lucius grabbed the fine fabric of her tunic and tore it with an abrupt movement, completely exposing her body.
"How dare you—" she began, but the words died in her throat when she saw the expression on his face. It wasn't the expression of a slave or gladiator – it was that of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and would take it.
"In this room," he said, his voice a low growl as he climbed onto the bed, "there is no domina or gladiator. There is only a man and a woman."
When their bodies finally joined, it wasn't with the hesitant gentleness of a subordinate, but with the dominant force of someone taking what they desire. Lucius grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other firmly held her hip, completely controlling her movements.
Livia arched against him, moans escaping her lips with each powerful thrust. Her body responded with an abandon she had probably never allowed herself – the Roman aristocrat always in control now completely surrendered to pleasure.
"Look at me," commanded Lucius, pulling her hair back with enough force to make her eyes open in shock. "I want to see your face when you lose control."
The words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, drew a deep moan from her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him even deeper.
Lucius applied knowledge that would be considered sorcery in this era – understanding precisely where to touch, how to vary the rhythm to build pleasure to almost unbearable points, reading her body's responses to intensify each sensation.
"By all the gods," gasped Livia when the first wave of intense pleasure traversed her. "What are you... how do you know..."
He silenced her questions with a dominant kiss, changing position to turn her onto her stomach in a fluid movement. Grabbing her hips, he raised them to find a new angle that he knew would be even more intense.
"That's it," he murmured against her ear as he resumed the rhythm, now even stronger. "Forget who you are. Forget everything except what you're feeling now."
His hands found her breasts, squeezing and caressing with calculated precision while his hips maintained the merciless rhythm. Each touch, each movement was perfectly calibrated to bring Livia to a state of pleasure that clearly surpassed anything she had ever experienced.
When the climax finally hit her, it was so intense that Lucius had to cover her mouth with his hand to muffle the scream that would certainly have alerted the entire wing. Her entire body trembled violently, her legs unable to support her as waves of pleasure consumed her.
Only when she began to recover did Lucius allow his own climax, his control – a product of techniques this era couldn't even dream of – finally yielding to physical pleasure.
Moments later, lying among the sweat-soaked sheets, Livia observed Lucius with a mixture of fascination and confusion.
"Who are you really?" she asked, her voice still trembling. "No gladiator... no man has ever touched me like this."
Lucius smiled, not with the submission expected of a subordinate pleased to have satisfied, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly the value of what they offer.
"Perhaps I was a queen's lover in distant lands," he answered with a slightly provocative tone. "Or perhaps I learned the secrets of pleasure from priestesses at Aphrodite's temple in Corinth."
"You're lying," she said, but her smile showed she was enchanted with the game.
"The truth is rarely as interesting as the possibilities," he replied, tracing a finger down the valley between her breasts. "But I prefer to demonstrate rather than explain."
To prove his point, his hand slid lower, finding again the spots he knew would provoke maximum pleasure. Her body responded instantly, arching against his touch.
"By Venus," she sighed, her eyes involuntarily closing. "If this is your idea of demonstration, I prefer that you never give me explanations."
The following hours proved that Lucius's physical conditioning offered advantages well beyond the arena. When they finally finished, exhausted and satisfied, the moon had already traversed much of its nocturnal journey.
"Definitely not like the others," murmured Livia, her body completely relaxed in a way that spoke of deep and complete satisfaction. "Perhaps I'll keep you for much longer."
As she fell into a deep sleep, Lucius remained awake, analyzing the implications of what had just happened. The dynamic had completely changed – in the outside world, he was the gladiator, the property, the subordinate. But in the intimacy of this room, the roles had been reversed in a way that Livia probably didn't fully realize.
It was an advantage that few in his position would achieve – not just the sexual favor of a powerful woman, but a profound psychological influence created by her complete submission during their intimate encounters.