Lucilla spied Maximus as he moved along the walls, asking a question here, giving an order there. As he marched along the guards' walk, the dark garment of a desert warrior he had adopted along with his new life floated around his powerful body, managing to make it as impressive as the full regulation Roman uniform had... how much time before?

At the sight, she felt the familiar pang, the longing that had been her only company for so many, so long, lonely years. The painful longing that many times had been the only thing that reminded her she was still alive.

As the sky paled, Lucilla remained there for a long time, looking at him from her hiding place in the shadows. Spying on him like she had done at place so distant from this desert dwelling that it nearly seemed to have happened in another world. It had happened by chance, when she had gone to Maximus looking for his love and his forgiveness, only to find something she had never expected to find...

The last night she had spent at the camp, the night before being sent back to Rome and her mother, to her life in the Palatine and the preparations for her wedding and the rest of her life, Lucilla had finally managed to escape her tent and go to Maximus.

She had not been the only one upset at the departure, for even if the army camp was not as comfortable as the imperial palace, her maids had soon discovered that there were other things to enjoy, like more freedom, less formality and the chance to meet other, simpler, tougher men who were also more alluring than the usual bureaucrats and the handsome but arrogant Praetorians.

Those soldiers of Rome stationed in a faraway province were strong, hardened, rugged men who had never had a chance to meet such exotic, lovely creatures as the perfumed, delicate attendants of the emperor's daughter. Even the officers coming from good Roman families had spent such a long time away from the capital that they welcomed the novelty of having a group of beautiful, well mannered, witty young women around.

Glances crossed, smiles bloomed and subtle signals were exchanged. The giggling that brusquely died when she entered the tent told Lucilla all she needed to know. At the camp, she was not the only one who had found what wild attraction and forbidden love was about.

So when the sudden order to depart for Rome came, there had been many sullen faces and red eyes among the emperor's daughter's entourage and as many sullen faces and restless souls in the ranks of the legion. Caesar's orders had disrupted more plans and happiness than those of his wilful daughter.

Born and raised in the Palatine, Lucilla was used to eavesdropping and catching subtle signs. Since childhood she had learned that knowing the whereabouts of others was as useful as it was hiding her own. As the time for departure came closer and her maids became more and more restless, Lucilla tore herself from her grieving numbness and remained alert to the signals that may disclose their plans. Soon her alertness paid off. It was obvious that, for some of them, their involvements with the soldiers were not light and transient relationships but, on the contrary, serious ones.

One of the maids, Chloe, was so visibly distressed despite her efforts to hide it, that Lucilla chose her as the one more likely to make a bold move. Alone in the sleeping area of the tent were she had spent most of her time in those final days, Lucilla heard her muffled sobbing. There was something oddly familiar about the girl's open grief but she had fought the impulse to go to Chloe and share her own misery with her. She had already discovered that her maid had been seeing a centurion with whom she had fallen in love. Now, she was to return to Rome with Lucilla's entourage while the man was to remain behind with his legion. Chloe was as doomed as herself. A freeborn woman of certain standing and thus a proper wife for a medium rank army officer, nevertheless she stood no chance: soldiers could not marry while serving their term and she could not bring shame to her family deserting the imperial service and becoming his concubine.

Forcing herself to push away any remorse, Lucilla managed to keep Chloe in the alcove close to hers during the nights and silently spied on her, confirming her suspicions: believing her asleep, the maid was sneaking out of the tent to meet her lover.

Lucilla quickly made up her plan. In that last night before departure, Chloe would run to her centurion and as soon she was gone, Lucilla would make her bold move to reach Maximus. Busy as she was with her lover, it was highly unlike that the maid would come to check on her. And if she did and found her gone, she would not raise the alarm lest her own indiscretions were discovered. No, Chloe had her own secret and would do her best to keep Lucilla's.

So when Chloe discreetly checked on the emperor's daughter before retiring to her own alcove, she found the girl seemingly asleep in her bed. A few minutes later, Lucilla heard her maid's hurried footsteps as she left the tent and jumped on her feet. Shortly after, wrapped in a dark cloak, she slid beneath the slightly raised canvas at the back of the tent and got out into the night. On her hands and knees, her heart beating frantically, she remained perfectly still for a moment, praying to every god and goddesses she could remember that she had not been heard.

 

Minutes passed and when nothing stirred, she gathered her dark cloak tightly around her and, remaining low, headed towards the tents where the tribunes slept, now praying her memory did not fail and instead directed her to the one she knew to be Maximus'. By night, the camp was as quiet as it was noisy during the day. As she crawled in the shadows, Lucilla heard the occasional hooting of an owl but hardly anything else. The moonless, dark night perfectly suited her plans and she moved unnoticed among the tents, once stopping and another time detouring to avoid the guards that paced the enclosure where not only their general and his tribunes slept but also the emperor and his young daughter.

Despite the short distance, it took longer that she expected but, finally, she reached Maximus' tent. There, Lucilla crouched and listened, straining her ears to catch any possible sound coming from inside. The silence was so complete that for a moment she felt close to panic. What if Maximus was not there? In the past days, she had been completely isolated from him and had no way to know anything regarding his whereabouts. His term as tribune had expired... What if he was at the village or had already been sent home? Lucilla bit her lower lip till she could taste her own blood and the sharp pain helped her to regain control. She had gone too far for doubts or second thoughts. She slid to her knees and lifted one end of the flap then listened again. Still no sound but through the gap she caught a faint light. Was he still awake? Lucilla cursed inwardly. Maximus was strong willed and now also bitterly angry. He was not keen to listen or reasoning but she had counted on surprising him in his sleep to force him to do both- and more.

Lucilla took a deep breath to steady her nerves but there was little more she could do to calm her racing heart. It was pounding in her ears so loudly that if the guards had come after her she would not have noticed their heavy footsteps.

She swallowed hard then raised the canvas and crawled into the tent, knowing Maximus' manservant would not be there so late in the night. The quarters were divided in two areas - one for working and one for sleeping - and furnished in his austere way. Stopping again, Lucilla crouched in the shadows of the working area, where Maximus conducted his duties and attended his correspondence. There was a desk and a chair, travelling chests, a stand for his parade armour complete with the helmet and cloak, a table and two other chairs and, in the back, a cupboard with compartments to store scrolls and maps. A faded carpet covered a good portion of the floor.

Somewhere in the sleeping area a lamp burned low casting a dim, golden light. The private quarters of the young tribune were divided from the working ones by a thin hanging. The fabric allowed the light to filter but impeded a casual onlooker to see beyond it. No shadows moved on the other side. There was no way she could see if Maximus had fallen asleep with the lamp on or was wide awake and perhaps even up.

Noticing that despite her efforts her breath was coming out in ragged pants, Lucilla forced herself to stop once more and pressed a hand tightly against her mouth, fiercely ordering herself to calm down. She told herself again that she had not come so far to fail in her last, desperate intent of having Maximus understand and say that he still loved her as much as she loved him...

Taking another deep breath, Lucilla crawled towards the hanging. It was parted in the middle and if she wanted to discover what was Maximus doing or not, she would have to open it slightly and spy into the private quarters of the tribune. With trembling fingers, she moved the fabric aside then peered into the alcove, praying that whatever he was doing, Maximus was visible from her position.

She should not have worried.

Standing in the middle of the alcove, Maximus was directly in front of her and facing the hangings.

He was naked.

The golden light of the lamp bathed his tanned skin, taut over his wide shoulders and broad chest. Free from his regulation tunic and armour, his arms bulged with heavy muscles while his bare legs looked strong and beautifully shaped, those of a born rider who has devoted many hours to the saddle. His waist was trim and his hips slender. His upper body was dusted with the same fine soft, curling hair Lucilla had seen on his arms. Bleached by the sun, it spread towards his thighs then his calves, casting the shine of slightly darker gold over his already golden skin. Below his navel, at the juncture of his thighs, a nest of darker curls surrounded his manhood. It protruded thick, hard and long, proudly curving towards his belly. His scrotum looked big and swollen, clearly delineated despite the shadows and the luxuriant curls.

Lucilla's heart jumped and her eyes opened very wide. Somehow, she managed to press a hand against her mouth, muffling her cry of surprise. At the same time, she felt herself painfully blush.

Of course, she had seen naked men before. She was a maiden of high rank, carefully protected and sheltered from the facts of life but she had too many brothers and had travelled too much with her father not to learn a thing or two about men. As a girl, she had hidden in the shrubs and spied the young men of her family and their male friends as they bathed naked in some secluded pond. Along the road, she had done the same and giggled with hysterical merriment when she caught sight of soldiers relieving themselves and unaware of her presence so close to them. Of course, she had seen nude male statues and even bold murals in which satyrs and nymphs did some strange and arousing things to each other.

But she had never seen anything like this.

She had never expected something like Maximus, glorious in his nakedness, quietly standing in front of her.  Absentmindedly she thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Of course she had known he was going to be beautiful and dreamed about the moment he would take off his tunic and reveal his nude body to her gaze. But her dreams had stopped short after he did it, as if Lucilla had never completely dared to trespass the line of the ultimate intimacy. Now he was there, simply standing in front of her. A golden, young, proud, nude god standing tall and strong in the middle of the dimly lighted alcove.

She had gone to Maximus hoping to surprise him in his sleep, have him listen to her, then take her as a man takes a woman. She had gone to him hoping to have him say just one more time that he loved her, then take the only thing she had to offer him as she swore to love him all her life... And now...

As her mind frantically raced trying to decide what to do, Lucilla devoured the vision in front of her. Despite her efforts, her gaze strayed towards his groin time and again. The young boys and the soldiers, the male statues and the naked males in the murals had had the same, protruding thing between their legs. Lucilla remembered that, the first time she had seen it, she had been shocked then asked herself how could boys and men manage to carry those protuberances dangling between their legs. Then, she had grown up and learned how these things were meant to be used and when, but they had been different... They had been... less. Smaller, wrinkled things unlike the proud, thick projection that seemed to point at her from Maximus' lower belly.

Unconsciously, Lucilla licked her lips suddenly gone dry. She registered a strange sensation radiating from her own lower belly. She felt hot, swollen. It was a bit like those times when they had kissed and caressed passionately and only Maximus' self-control had brought them back to their senses before it was too late. It was a bit like those time but at the same time it was also different as Maximus swollen and distended organ was different from the smaller, other ones.

It was more acute. More insistent. More unsettling.

Maximus remained immobile, his hands resting at his sides.  

Lucilla noticed that his eyes were closed, as if he had been lost in his own, deep thoughts. As if he had completely forgotten where he was and also about the world surrounding him.

What was he doing, standing naked and alone in the middle of his dimly lightened alcove? 

As if answering her unspoken question, with a slow, nearly languid movement, he brought his right hand to his groin and stroked himself.

Her eyes bulged at the sight of the unsettling motion, his big, tanned hand wrapped around his thick manhood and moving over it in a controlled, knowing rhythm. She looked in fascinated horror how the already engorged member became even thicker as the languid motion went on.

Letting out a sigh, Maximus arched his back. 

Of course, Lucilla knew what he was doing. 

Or at least she thought she knew. Once, from her hiding at the shrubs, she had spied one of her now dead brothers while at it. The boy had made strange sounds as he stroked himself with increasing speed and his face had contorted in frightening way. To his sister, he had looked as if he had been in pain...Maximus stroked himself once more.

"Easy, Tribune. Why so much hurry? Volumnia is here to take care of you."  The woman emerged from the shadows and moved towards the naked man with fluid, provocative grace. She was wrapped in a flimsy, crimson-coloured garment no decent woman would dare even own, much less wear around.

Maximus' hand stopped in mid-movement then he opened his eyes.

The woman raised one of her hands and caressed his bearded cheek then slid it down his strong neck and shoulder. He blinked as a man shaken out of deep sleep.  With a graceful movement, the woman turned her hand and caressed his powerful chest with the back of her fingers. "Why so much hurry, Tribune?" she repeated.

Maximus blinked again but said nothing.

Volumnia.

Lucilla knew who the woman was. She had never seen her but had heard a lot about her. Everybody at the camp knew about Volumnia and her maids had gossiped about her when they thought their domina could not hear them. A few years ago, she had been the mistress of a senior centurion who had died in battle. The man had kept her in a small house close to the gates of the city and in his will had left her enough money for a simple life. But Volumnia was too beautiful and too young to content herself with a simple, monotonous life. Even when her centurion had been alive, she had received many offers from other men, both officers and magistrates and even some merchants who made good money providing the legion with fodder and cattle.

Volumnia was also smart and had remained faithful to her man, favouring the safety he provided over the risky chances of taking other lovers. It was only when he was gone, she had made herself available to other men. She could have gone to Rome and found a protector, even a husband. Her beauty was so famous that even local men were ready to forget about her past and give her their name. Instead, Volumnia had preferred to remain in the province, where competition was not so intense and she could make the most of her young years. She disdained the camp followers and cheap whores and had turned into the closest thing to a courtesan that the region would know. She did not necessarily accept all the men that demanded her services. On the contrary. So those who had been chosen to receive her favours prided themselves not only of being able to pay her fee but also about having whatever it was that had made Volumnia accept them. Her house was simple but clean and comfortable. She had discreet slaves to cook and serve abundant and tasty meals and the men who visited her were more than eager to pay the high fee she demanded in exchange for some hours of pleasure that made them forget whatever it was they wanted or needed to forget.

Swallowing hard, Lucilla looked at her. Of course she knew what a courtesan was. She had been taught the difference between a decent woman and those who sold their favours to men when she was still very young. Then, she had caught a glimpse of some of those women, both at the Palatine and when she was carried around in her litter along the streets of Rome. Decked in silk and jewels or in cheap garments and with her hair dyed with henna, a courtesan was but a whore. A woman who sold her body for money to men who sought unspeakable things they would never dare ask from their wives. To men who had no wives or had lost them. To everyone who could meet the fee they demanded for their skills.

The woman in Maximus' alcove was tall. Taller than many women and probably taller than Lucilla who was not exactly short. Her blond hair was lose and fell to her generous hips in a wild array of curls and waves that shone under the oil lamp's light. Her face remained hidden by her mane but Lucilla could perfectly see the curves of her luscious body wrapped in that scandalous, shimmering fabric that seemed to show them off instead of hiding them from men's peering gazes.

Inside the alcove, Volumnia took a step ahead and her hand slid down Maximus' body, lightly caressing his belly, the movement so fluid, so erotic that, hidden in the shadows, Lucilla gasped.

At the touch, he visibly shivered.

Volumnia laughed, a soft, husky sound. There was something oddly arousing about it.

Maximus swallowed reflexively.

"Why so much hurry, Tribune?" the courtesan asked for a third time, "We have the whole night ahead." She moved again, lightly brushing her generous breasts against his naked chest. "Besides," she went on, "I have been waiting for you for a long time."

Maximus frowned lightly, then slid his arm around Volumnia's waist but the woman laughed again and escaped his embrace.

As she moved aside, Lucilla finally saw her face. She was beautiful in a dangerous way. Her skin was fair and had a silky, luminous quality while her features were strong but delicate. Huge, smoky blue eyes, a fine nose, a pointed chin and a generous mouth combined in a face no one could easily dismiss. In that face, each man saw the promise of unspeakable pleasures.  And each woman saw a rival they could not even dream to defeat. Not even fight. And the courtesan was now there, in Maximus' tent.

Suddenly, Lucilla remembered something she had heard her maids whisper, when talking about Volumnia. The courtesan only serviced her chosen men in her house. Even the richest ones and the most powerful had to go to her if they wanted her favours.

Yet, she had come to the Roman camp like the whores she despised. 

She had come to Maximus.

The beautiful woman in the alcove turned back towards him. "I have been waiting for you, Tribune, and wondering what kind of man you are." She let the words drift then smiled to the man standing naked in front of her.  "I mean, what kind of man you are, besides being an obviously very virile one. Have you an idea of how beautiful you are, Tribune?"

Maximus smiled back but his smile was not one of amusement.  "You talk too much." He drawled and at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice Lucilla felt her skin cover in goose bumps. There was a hint of menace in that voice but the courtesan did not flinch.

"Then, what are you waiting to put my lips to better use, Tribune? It is obvious that you are not shy- or are you?"

He winced, as if Volumnia had slapped him and the crimson dressed woman smiled again in a pleasant, genial way.

Unable to understand but somehow sensing a battle of wills between the couple behind the curtain, Lucilla frowned. 

Volumnia moved again and got beyond her line of vision. Lucilla knelt on the floor to ease her aching calves and lifted the curtain a fraction, trying to follow her. When she finally caught sight of her, the courtesan was lighting another oil lamp. "I want to see you, Tribune," she said matter of fact, her husky voice carrying an implicit hint of something wild and dangerous. "I have been waiting for you for a long time," she repeated as the little flame snapped to life and the alcove's shadows elongated and danced on the canvas walls.

Reflexively, Lucilla moved back, afraid that the increased light would make her visible but Volumnia's next words stopped her.

"I want to see you, Tribune. I want to really see you- and I want you to really see me."

This said, the blond haired, tall woman took a few steps towards Maximus and, unclasping the golden filigree brooches on her shoulders, let her flimsy, crimson garment float to the floor.

For the second time in a few moments, Lucilla clasped a hand to her mouth to muffle a cry. Dressed, the courtesan was stunning. Naked, she was simply a goddess.

She seemed to be made of ivory and gold, a statue created by a master sculptor. Broad backed, her shoulders were high and elegant, the perfect complement for her long, swan neck. Her breasts were generous, pale globes crowned by mauve-coloured areoles. Her small waist emphasized the effect of her female, round hips. At the apex of her thighs her curls were thicker and a shade darker than her luxuriant, blond mane. Her arms and legs showed nothing but perfect skin and equally perfect shape.

From her hiding place, Lucilla saw Maximus' eyes roam over the woman's body and darken with something so unsettling that she could feel it in the pitch of her stomach. The smile in his lips changed in a subtle and somehow disturbing way. Without a word, he stroked himself again, the movement deliberately slower than it had been.  And, despite her innocence, Lucilla knew that it was intended to be provocative. The courtesan offered a short, musical laugh and went to Maximus. As she did, Lucilla got an impeded view of her straight back and round, perfect buttocks.

Biting her lower lip, Lucilla felt scalding tears pool in her eyes and blur her vision. Whore or no whore, that was how a woman, a real woman looked like, all curves and self assurance, not an awkward, coltish, clumsy girl like herself. Whore or no whore, that was how a woman who could raise and satisfy a man's passion looked like. A man's passion- Maximus' passion. She was an emperor's daughter and she loved Maximus in a way that made her body ache and her soul burn. But she was just a girl. And in the aftermath of their short lived dream, he had sought for solace in a woman. A real one. Furiously blinking her tears away, Lucilla told herself that she should leave the tribune's tent. She had gone there looking for love and forgiveness, and the passion she knew so little about but she had found something completely different. There was no place for her in Maximus' life anymore.

Willing herself to raise and leave, Lucilla cast a last look at the man standing naked in the middle of the alcove. With another graceful movement, the naked woman let herself fell on her knees in front of Maximus and put her hand on top of his, gently wrapping in her palm both his hand and his manhood.

Lucilla's eyes widened. 

What was the courtesan doing on her knees? How dare she put her hand...? Why did Maximus allow her...?

 

"I wonder, Tribune, will you ask or will you simply take?" she said in a clearly teasing tone. 

Maximus' smile changed again, becoming somehow warmer.  "It depends on what you have to give," he purred. 

The woman at his feet gently pushed his hand away and he let her. Then, to Lucilla's utmost shock, she took Maximus engorged member in her hand and stroked it in the same, slow, deliberate way he had done. Before Lucilla could find her breath and let out a gasp, the courtesan added her pink, moist tongue to the intimate ministrations. Maximus shivered and closed his eyes.

It had to be trick of the light! It could not be... No woman... not even a whore would use her tongue to... No! Maximus would not... Could not...

Deafened by blood rushing in her ears, Annia Galeria Lucilla saw the woman named Volumnia stroke and lick Maximus' engorged manhood once more then take it in her mouth. It was a good thing that when the female lips closed around his tormented shaft he exhaled a loud moan of anguished pleasure for Lucilla was unable to stop a small cry of outrage.

It was not possible. It was... unnatural. It was... obscene. She felt like gagging.

While her heart beat at a maddened, frenzied pace, Lucilla found herself unable to take her eyes from the naked couple in front of her. Maximus' breath was becoming heavier by the moment and his parted lips let out regular, soft moans. He was using one of his big, tanned hands to caress the woman's luxuriant mane, his strong fingers burying in her curls. The rhythm of his hand was perfectly replicated by that of his rocking hips. His male organ was half buried in Volumnia's mouth and her lips moved as she seemed to suck and lick it...

Her cheeks were burning so badly that Lucilla felt it like a physical pain. Her throat was tight and her hands visibly trembled despite she had made them into tight balls. The metallic taste of blood filled her dry mouth. Horrified and fascinated, she helplessly looked at the scene that took place a few steps from her.

 

Maximus' moans became louder and more anguished as the rhythm of his hips increased. His right hand now tightly grabbed the courtesan's hair in a gesture that spoke of urgency but also of male possessiveness. With a sucking, popping sound, Volumnia freed his swollen, glistening manhood. The engorged, damp phallus helplessly bobbed seeking for the lost, hot, wet cavern of the woman's skilled mouth. Startled, Maximus snapped his eyes open, as his hand reflexively let the woman's hair go. She made no movement to rise from her knelt position. "Now that you know what I have to offer, Tribune," she said, "It is my turn..."

Something thunderous flashed across Maximus' features and Lucilla noticed that his golden skin was covered with sweat. "Now that you know how good it can be, I want a taste of what you have for me." As she talked, Volumnia slowly crouched and spread her thighs with deliberate slowness. As in a dream, Lucilla saw her slide her right hand between them and move it slowly.  "It felt good inside my mouth, did not it?" She went on as she moved her hand, "Can you imagine how much better it will be inside me?"

Volumnia's voice slightly broke and she stopped her hand then took it away and raised on her feet with a fluid movement that reminded those of the best dancers who regularly performed at the Palatine's banquets. As she did, she managed to brush the length of her voluptuous body all along Maximus'. "I want you inside me, Tribune." She whispered as she raised her hand towards his face.

Under the golden light of the lamps, Lucilla saw the courtesan's fingers glistened with dampness and felt something stir in the depths of her own body. Suddenly, she was all too conscious of the secret place in her own body where Volumnia had shamelessly touched herself. A secret place that now felt swollen and hot... and also damp as the other woman's fingers.

Volumnia brushed her breasts against Maximus' naked chest once more.  "I am ready for you, Tribune," she breathed, "Do you want to taste how ready for you I am?" Without waiting for Maximus' answer, Volumnia rubbed her soaked fingers over his lips.

Lucilla's eyes bulged once more but she had no time to gag.

Maximus parted his lips and avidly licked them, then the woman's fingers. When it seemed not to be enough, he sucked them into his mouth. And when his powerful arm slid around the courtesan's slender waist, she did not sneak away but let herself go and be crushed against the rock hard body of the man greedily sucking her female essence. Maximus used one hand to keep Volumnia firmly in place while he used the other to fondle her perfect buttocks. She retaliated by sliding her left arm around his strong neck and undulating her body provocatively, grinding her pelvis against his and purring loudly in the depths of her throat.

A few feet away, hidden in the shadows, Lucilla discovered that the world was an even darker, more threatening place that she had suspected. She had thought the worst thing awaiting her was a forced marriage and the long, lonely rest of her life far from Maximus...

A flurry of movement in the alcove called back her attention. With the swiftness and grace that had made him a legendary warrior at a very young age, Maximus freed himself from the courtesan's embrace and effortlessly scooped her in his arms. Volumnia did not offer resistance as he carried her towards his bed. On the contrary, she lost no time to slide her arms around his neck again and avidly kiss his skin there, then lick his ear.

When the couple disappeared from her line of vision, Lucilla told herself once more that she should go. That she had been defeated as she had never expected to be. That there was nothing in that tent for her anymore...Annia Galeria Lucilla shifted her knelt, slender body to be able to see what was happening on the other side of the curtain.

 

Maximus dropped the woman on his narrow, military bed none too gently. Volumnia did not complain. She fell on the blankets in a graceful swirl of long legs and cascading blond curls. Only when he did not climb on the bed after her but instead remained standing beside it did she raise on her elbows.

Lucilla saw that the courtesan's eyes looked darker than her usual, smoky-blue hue and also shone with a strange light. Her breasts rose rhythmically with her breathing and her lips were slightly parted.  Volumnia smiled that tantalizing smile that had seduced so many men.  "Well, Tribune?" she asked cocking an eyebrow.

Before she could add anything else, Maximus dropped to his knees in front of the bed then grabbed her ankles in his tanned hands. Absentmindedly, Lucilla marvelled at the contrast between his dark skin and the courtesan's pale, delicate one. He tightened his grip, then dragged the woman on the bed towards him, bringing her close to the rim. Volumnia's eyes flashed but she offered no resistance. Instead, she flexed her knees then spread her thighs wider as Maximus brought her closer to him.

From her hiding place in the shadows, Lucilla saw the courtesan's thighs spread wide enough to reveal an unimpeded view of her female sheath. She saw it coming closer to Maximus. When he had her where he wanted, he slid his hands up the back of Volumnia's calves and hooking her knees over his shoulders, he lowered his face towards the exposed flesh. He rubbed his bearded face against the bronze-coloured woman's nether curls then buried his mouth between her spread legs.

Lucilla felt as if a lightning bolt had struck her.

If what Volumnia had done to Maximus had been unnatural and obscene this was... was... an aberration. From childhood, she had been taught that courtesans and whores were depraved women who willingly did for money what decent ones only endured for the sake of duty, and only once they were legally married.

At sixteen she knew the notion was a bit too strict and some married women enjoyed whatever it was that happened in the beds they shared with their husbands. She also knew some unmarried women went to men not for their coins but for love. Lucilla herself had courted disaster in Maximus' arms- and been bitterly disappointed when his self-control had put a stop to the delicious turmoil his kisses and caresses had unleashed deep inside her.

But no woman was depraved enough to allow a man do what Maximus was doing to Volumnia. 

No man was depraved enough to inflict something like this on a woman, no matter how loose her morals were... The woman on the bed arched her back and let out a loud moan that carried no hint of protest or distress. Instead, it was a sound so full of hunger and undisguised carnality that Lucilla felt it raise an echo deep inside her. Beyond the dampness deep between her own legs. Without even noticing it, Lucilla brought one of her hands towards her mound and pressed it hard, as if trying to stop the feeling. She failed and quickly took her hand away, her eyes blurred with tears of pure shame.

 

In the alcove Volumnia ground her sex against Maximus' mouth with rhythmic, rocking movements of her hips while her head thrashed from side to side, her gasping breath punctuated by increasingly loud moans. Kneeling by the bed and between the woman's widely spread legs, Maximus rocked in his own rhythm as he relentlessly worked her with his lips and tongue, sweat glistening as it run down the taut skin of his back. Somehow, despite the sensual onslaught, Volumnia found her voice.  "Yes!" she panted frantically, "Yes! Oh, yes! Yes, like this! Like this, Tribune! Yes... yes..."

Visibly spurred by the woman's words, Maximus shifted his head and increased his rhythm. The courtesan shrieked and Lucilla saw her spread thighs visibly shudder. "More..." cried again Volumnia, "Oh, yes... More... More...More..." Her voice had lost its husky quality, turning into something close to a high-pitched wail.  It was the voice of a woman completely lost in her own flesh and mindless of who could hear her. "More..."

Maximus stopped and raised his head then, taking Volumnia's legs from his shoulders he placed her feet on the bed, freeing his hands and leaving her completely open and exposed to Lucilla's view. Numbed with shock, she saw Maximus slightly caress the engorged slit with two big, callused fingers and her ears registered the other woman's urgent cries. "More...More..."

Annia Galeria Lucilla felt shadows close around her. Suddenly, she saw the couple in the alcove as if they were at the end of a dark tunnel. Inside her head, her pulse roared like a battle trumpets she had heard soldiers blow at the military drills. Mercifully, the sound was so loud that it drowned Volumnia's cries...

"Damn you, Tribune!"

Lucilla's ears still rang but not loud enough to cover the, furious female voice coming from the other side of the curtain.  The angry explosion was followed by a chuckle. Maximus. 

"How dare you?"

Darkness seemed to diminish as Lucilla's eyes came back into focus. As they did, she caught sight of the blond, beautiful woman sprawled on the bed. Her hair was tousled and her breasts heaved with her laboured breath. Her pale skin was blushed with rage. Her smoky blue eyes flashed murderously. All her serenity and self-assuredness gone and replaced by shuddering anger.  Her voice dropped to a low tone, very much like the deep rumble of a caged lion, as she raised herself on an elbow and locked her eyes with Maximus, somewhere beyond Lucilla's line of vision.  "HOW-DARE-YOU?" she repeated with deliberate slowness.

He padded towards the bed with his usual, feline grace. As he did, Lucilla noticed his manhood was as rigid and engorged as it had been when Volumnia had removed her mouth. She also noticed the enticing, graceful way his naked buttocks moved as he walked.

Maximus perched at a corner of the bed. As he did, he slid one of his hands up one of the courtesan's legs. Lucilla saw the woman struggle to control a shiver but there was no revulsion in her eyes. Instead, she looked vulnerable. "How dare you, Tribune?" she whispered.

Maximus offered her no other answer but a faint smile and repeated his caress. 

Volumnia licked her lips.

Lucilla licked hers reflexively.

"How dare you leave me like this?" the older woman went on and Lucilla found herself wondering how old she could be.  Probably in her late-twenties. Older than Maximus.

The strong hand slid upwards the beautifully shaped leg another time.

Volumnia shivered again, then, she relaxed and let herself fall on the bed, her eyes' glazed with something that Lucilla could not find words to describe. The tanned hand went on caressing the pale skin. Volumnia sighed deeply. "Tribune," she said and there was no more anger in her voice. Instead, it was full of the same vulnerability that had reflected on her face. "Why- why did you leave me like this? Why make me burn only to leave me like this...?" 

Maximus cocked his head as he went on hypnotically caressing the woman lying helplessly on his bed.

From her place in the anteroom, Lucilla felt as if he had been caressing her.

"Tribune..."

"What do you want, Volumnia?" he asked, still caressing the woman's leg.

"I want you... How dare you..." Her voice broke as his caress became bolder. 

"Dare what?" As he spoke, Maximus' hand darted between the courtesan's legs. Lucilla heard Volumnia moan loudly.

She felt like moaning herself.

"Dare what?" he repeated and there was a hint of steel beyond the heated rumble of his voice.

Volumnia's moan became even louder. And the vulnerability behind her voice rose along with its volume. Deep inside her heart and soul, Lucilla felt the older woman was as helpless as her.  "Tribune... Tribune..."  Now Volumnia was writhing on the bed, trying to escape whatever it was that Maximus was doing to her. Lucilla caught a swift movement and shifted again, raising the curtain another bit.

Maximus needed but a moment to control Volumnia's efforts to escape and firmly pin her to the hard mattress. Then he lightly petted the woman's sheath with his blunt, callused fingers. Volumnia's back arched as she let out another shriek. "What do you want, Volumnia?" repeated Maximus.

"You... " panted the courtesan. "You... You... YOU!"

Maximus caressed her centre again.

Then, Lucilla's eyes opened wide once more as he swiftly slid two fingers in the woman's tortured sheath. Volumnia lost her voice. She also seemed to lose her will to fight, as she locked her wild eyes on him. "What do you want, Volumnia?" asked Maximus for a third time. The woman only gasped.

He retracted his fingers then buried them deeper inside her.

Lucilla felt as if he had buried them inside her. And her body throbbed in automatic response.

 

"You!" panted the courtesan. "You! You... You... YOU!!!"

Maximus moved his hand again. 

"Damn you, Tribune! Damn you! Damn you!"

Lucilla swallowed.

"Damn you, Tribune! Give it to me! Give it to me!"

In the shadows of the anteroom, Marcus Aurelius' daughter wondered what Volumnia asking for- and feared she might get an answer.

"Ask me..."  The rumbling of Maximus' voice had Lucilla blinking. On the bed, Volumnia fell quiet.  "Ask me..."

Lucilla closed her eyes in dread.

"Ask me..."

Volumnia cried.

"Ask me..."

The woman lying on the bed whispered something unintelligible.

"Ask me..."

Lucilla felt a shiver run down her spine, then she opened her eyes.

"Please..."

The word echoed in Lucilla's belly.

"Please, Tribune... please..."  Volumnia's voice was weak with something she knew well.  It was defeat.

Lucilla lowered her head and it was only when the first tears fell on her hands that she realized she was weeping. Gathering enough strength to wipe them away seemed something beyond her possibilities. Defeat. She had been aware she knew what being defeated was about.

She had sneaked into Maximus' tent hoping to save something from their love, her life and happiness... And she had only found defeat under the guise of an indescribable beautiful courtesan coveted by many men- and as lonely as herself. As helplessly in love with Maximus as she was.

Volumnia's anguished cry startled Lucilla and she raised her head. She saw a flurry of movement on the narrow bed as Maximus moved to cover the courtesan's body. "Please..." As in a dream, Lucilla saw Maximus move between Volumnia's spread legs. He took himself in his hand to position his swollen manhood against the female entrance. "Please..." As he probed gently but firmly, the woman beneath him moaned and arched her back. "Please..."

Maximus surged forward.  

Volumnia cried out.

Lucilla sobbed.

For a long moment there was an eerie silence in the alcove, as if the couple on the bed had forgotten how to breathe. Then, Maximus retreated before thrusting again. His hips flexed as he moved inside the woman softly moaning and panting. On and on it went and little by little he increased the speed of his movements. "Please...Please..." begged Volumnia but Lucilla knew that the courtesan did not know anymore what she was begging for.  Maximus' moan startled the younger woman.  A deep and rumbling sound that came from the depths of his throat and his soul, the sound of a man lost in the turmoil of his flesh and emotions.  On and on it went.

"Please..."

Maximus stopped for a moment, then slid his hands beneath Volumnia's buttocks and grabbed them, bringing her closer, bringing himself deeper. 

"Please..."  Volumnia's hands darted towards the shoulders of the man moving above her. They slid over the tanned muscles beaded with sweat and grabbed his shortly cropped, dark hair. Thrashing and panting, her nails moved along his back and racked his skin.

"Please, Tribune... Please..." 

Like a stallion spurred by his rider, Maximus doubled the speed of his thrusting.

The courtesan arched once more, raising her back, her head falling back.  "Maximus! Maximus! Maximus...!" 

At the sound of his name as Volumnia screamed her release Lucilla pressed both hands to her mouth to avoid screaming in return.

Maximus thrust once more, twice, a third time then became tense as lion ready to spring. Volumnia half sobbed and half moaned as her head rolled helplessly from side to side. Suddenly, Maximus thrust one more, deeper, harder time.

"Lucilla! Lucilla! Lucilla...!"

 

Time seemed to stop.  The world ceased to exist.  The ground seemed to open beneath her.  Her name echoed in her heart, mind and soul as Maximus' cry turned into a soft moan.

Something inside her screamed in return. Calling her. Urging her to stand up and go into the alcove.

Urging her to go there and tear Maximus from the arms of the woman in whose flesh he had vainly looked to forget her... To go there and gather whatever was left of their love. To snatch the shreds of their hopes...

The urge was like a fire raising inside her and replacing another, ebbing fire. The flames burned with white-hot intensity and blinding force. And died. It was to no avail. She was an emperor's daughter and she was going to marry another.

There was only one thing left to her. 

Only one fair, decent thing.

She could not avoid marrying Lucius Verus but she could free Maximus and give him back the rest of his life. 

She would not go to him now and ruin his existence, perhaps forever. 

Kneeling on the tent's floor, Lucilla buried her head in her hands. She never knew how long she remained there, cold and lost in the shadows of the tent. Only the noise that brought her back from the shadows inside herself.

It was something like she had never heard. 

A ragged, painfully anguished, heart breaking sound.

Raising her head, Lucilla peered through the hanging's opening once more.

 

His passion spent, Maximus had collapsed on top of Volumnia, crushing her pale, slender form with his dark, strong one. His face was buried in her shoulder and his body shuddered violently as he helplessly sobbed, the sound of his male grief shattering Lucilla's already broken heart.

Her silent sobs echoed Maximus' desperate ones as she rocked herself as if she had been a scared child. 

At some point her ears caught another, faint sound. Raising her head once more, Lucilla looked through the curtain's opening for the last time.

Somehow, Volumnia had managed to shift Maximus' body and now was cradling him in her arms, one of her hands caressing his dark hair as he sobbed against her perfect, full breasts. As she did, she softly whispered what Lucilla knew were words of comfort.

Words of hopeless, helpless love. Maximus' sobs reached an anguished, edgy peak then dissolved into what she knew to be cleansing, healing tears.  As she went on whispering, Volumnia kissed the top of Maximus' head then raised her face and for a moment Lucilla thought that she knew about her presence in the anteroom and was directly looking at her.

At the young, inexperienced, slender girl that she was, an emperor's daughter and sharing with a courtesan the unspeakable pain of love and hope gone wrong. Volumnia's beautiful face was a mask of devastation and grief, the smoky blue of her eyes blurred by the tears that run down her pale cheeks. The face of a woman defeated beyond hope.

Suddenly unable to stand it anymore and oblivious to being discovered, Lucilla stood up and ran into the night...

Little by little, the sounds found their way into Lucilla's fogged conscience. Human voices. A horse's hooves. The creaking of a cart. A bark. The sharp cry of a bird of prey. The sounds of the fortress waking up to another day of hard labour and vigilance. She lowered her hands.

She could not remember having buried her face in them but it was obvious that at some point of her reverie she had done so. She always did; she had been doing it for well over a decade. Since that long past morning when she had climbed on the wagon that would take her to Rome and her new life as Lucius Verus' wife and Rome's co-empress.

Raising her head, she saw that the sun had set the sky ablaze and the flame coloured horizon only managed to emphasize the similitude of that newborn day with that other one, when the Praetorian escort had opened the march and she had started the path to loneliness and desperation, the scene she had witnessed hidden in the shadows of Maximus' tent playing in her mind again and again.

Turning her back to the window, ordering herself not to look down at Maximus another time, Lucilla padded again towards her bed. Beyond the door she could hear her maid moving in the small alcove as she prepared for her morning duties. Soon Tiberina would come into her room and she should find her mistress where she was supposed to be. Forcing her eyes closed, Lucilla covered herself with the blanket, barely resisting the urge to throw it over her head in a childish attempt to shut off the sun and also life.

"Father..." she whispered once more. 

She had been born to privilege and being her father's favourite. 

She had been born to beauty and had known a man's love. 

Then why had her life gone so wrong? 

Why had she lost everything that was precious?

Her father- she had never forgiven him for enforcing her marriage to Lucius Verus. In due time, when she became a widow, her animosity had turned into bitter melancholy but something precious between them had broken, and he had died before they had the chance to mend it.

Maximus- he had blamed her for deceiving him into believing that there was a future for their love. He had called her names, turned his back to her and gone away, leaving her alone and crushed out of guilt and desperation. Shortly after, he had returned to his native Hispania, met a woman and married her. His son had been born less than a year after his wedding.

Her brother- Lucilla did not deceive herself. She had loved Commodus. He had always been difficult, a sullen child who had grown into a twisted youngster and then a suspicious, devious, cruel young man. Yet part of her had always loved him. She had loved the vulnerability reflected in his eyes when he looked at her. She had loved the fragility that he tried to hide behind his ceremonial robes and ornate cuirasses and his grand gestures as he fancied to be the great ruler and greater warrior he knew he was not. She had loved him and he had murdered their father, done his best to destroy Maximus and, when that had not been enough, he had also taken her son from her.

Lucius- where would he be? What would he be doing? Would he be afraid? She had not seen him in- how long? In this peaceful spot surrounded by dunes it was easy to lose the notion of time. How long had it been since she had departed from Rome, damned once more to the role she seemed to have been raised for, a pawn to be used by her family's males when they played their political games? Lucilla felt the burning of tears under her eyelids and shortly after the path they traced as they fell out of the corners of her eyes.

"Please, father, protect me..." she whispered and her voice sounded very much like that of the young girl who had begged not to be married to Lucius Verus. "Please, father, protect my son..."