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“Faustus,” I corrected. Again, the errant thought of her uttering my first name lingered in my mind. I took her chin in my fingers and turned her head toward my face.
“Faustus.” She moved her eyes back towards mine. Her desire was unmistakable, but there was hesitation. “Your wound; I fear you would harm yourself. If you lie quietly, I can still give you the release you need.”
“I may be willing to take the chance if it means burying myself inside of you.” I punctuated the words by pulling her stomach against my shaft. Her blush was my reward. Looking for more, I jerked my hips and pressed my cock further into her stomach.
My body
seized up as I barely contained a scream. The pain up my side was excruciating, and as my body stiffened in response to the sudden pain, Aia pushed herself from my arms and immediately pressed her hand to the dressing. I didn’t have to look—I could feel the blood seeping from it.
“Lie back!” she said quickly, her voice ringing out a desperate tone. “Please, Faustus!”
With her hand on my shoulder, I was again placed on my back against the mattress. The muscles of my shoulders complained immediately, but it wasn’t as bad as the pain in my side. Aia pulled up the dressing for a moment and confirmed I had indeed ripped out some of the stitches.
“I’ll fetch Sergius.”
She was gone only a few moments, but in that time, sweat covered my brow and my breathing increased until I was panting to get enough air. My chest ached along with my side, and my head began to swim.
“What did you do, woman?” Sergius cried as he fussed over the bandages.
I looked up to her distressed face.
“I did it,” I growled through clenched teeth. Anger mixed with pain, and I found myself rising to her defense. “She tried to stop me, and I obviously should have listened.”
With the doctor’s wrath directed away from the young slave, she visibly relaxed, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes. I looked from her to Sergius, trying to understand the dynamic between them, but I could determine nothing. Once again, Aia held me down as the doctor sutured the skin that had pulled away from the stitches.
“Do I need to strap you down, Tribunus?” the doctor asked.
I glared up at him, resenting his tone. It didn’t matter that he was trying to heal me; I still felt the desire to punish him for him impudence. I considered several options, including buying the hospital itself to keep him permanently under my thumb but knew such a thing would not serve Rome well. My loyalty was a singular thing, so I dismissed the thoughts in my head.
“You do not,” I replied.
He nodded succinctly, rechecked the dressing, and left us.
“Apologies, Tribunus,” Aia began as soon as he left the room. “I didn’t intend to-”
“Hush,” I commanded. “You did nothing.”
She remained unsettled until I reached out and took her by the hand. I smiled as best I could through the pain and pulled her closer to the bed.
“I have suffered far worse,” I told her. “This is not my first battle wound.”
Aia squeezed my hand gently before releasing it and moving back to her bench. She reached for a cloth and dipped it in a bowl of water and then ran the cool cloth over my forehead and down the side of my face. She continued, apparently determined to wash whatever remained of the blood of battle away from my flesh.
I closed my eyes and evened out my breaths as her ministrations lulled me. My shoulders still ached from the constant position against the bed, but I tried not to think of the discomfort. When I opened my eyes, I saw Aia looking down my body and couldn’t help but respond with a smile.
“Do you still think of it?”
Aia looked back at me.
“Of what, Faustus?”
“My cock pressed against your belly.”
She looked away, but I could still make out the crimson shade of her cheeks and neck in the glow of the candles on the table. I wanted to reach out and grab her hand again, but she was too far away.
“I’m still in need of distraction,” I reminded her.
“I think you need sleep,” Aia rebutted. Her lips pressed together, and I was sure she wanted to comment further, but chose not to do so. I found my eyes drawn to the front of her dress as she leaned over me, partially exposing one of her breasts.
