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She tilted her head toward the ground and closed her eyes, nodding slightly.
“I know,” she responded quietly, “but still, it happened.”
Inside, I fumed. I fought far from the Senate to ensure others upheld the law, and still it was broken in the very cities of the Empire.
Aia paused for a moment before continuing.
“I believe I was around six years of age at that time,” she said. “The breadmaker was a stern man, and he had me work from morning until dusk, carrying flour from the storehouse to the bakery.”
“Stern?” I commented. My heart beat faster in my chest as I considered the true meaning behind the word she chose. Slaves were most cautious about words chosen to describe their masters, even those who no longer owned them. The wrong word meant death. The one she chose was innocuous enough, but the potential, true meaning of it had the muscles in my arms and shoulders tensing. Anger rose from my stomach at the thought that she may have been mistreated by a fucking baker.
“He wasn’t a violent man at all,” Aia said, staring at me. Her eyes widened slightly as she took her hand from mine, reached out and ran a cool cloth over my arm. My muscles relaxed to the touch as she used the cloth to wipe some of the blood away from my chest. “He was merely demanding. I was never harmed by him.”
I blinked, realizing she had read me with highest accuracy, and looked away with annoyance at appearing so transparent. Water in a nearby bowl sloshed as she deposited the soiled cloth inside. A slight touch from her fingers drew my attention to my hand, which she picked up and held in her lap with both of hers.
“I served the breadmaker for several years,” she continued. “I learned how to mix, knead, and bake the bread. I even learned a little about herbs to bring about more pleasing flavors.”
“I would very much like to taste your bread,” I said with a wide grin. I raised my eyebrows as she looked at me and then quickly away again. Such a lovely gesture of shyness; it made my cock fill with blood as color filled her cheeks.
“Perhaps I will have the opportunity to bake for you,” she responded quietly.
More blood flowed to my cock as my thighs and ass clenched at the thought of sampling her…goods. I tasted my own lips with my tongue as I looked at her through slightly hooded eyes. There was something I needed to know.
“You are still quite young,” I remarked. “Has someone taken your maidenhead?”
Aia’s cheeks turned crimson. She moved her eyes to the floor before answering.
“Yes,” she finally said, much to my dismay. I would have enjoyed plucking such a flower, but it would have been near miracle from the gods for a slave girl to remain untouched for long, and Aia was a beautiful girl.
Even through the pain of the sword’s cut, I longed to show her the worth of my cock between her thighs.
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.
