The arena security personnel at the gate took one look at Jamirr and couldn’t hit the controls fast enough. He was out on the sands before the gate had slid all the way aside and racing toward where Samyra was ringed by Tirion and his men. Jamirr could move much faster than any human and he arrived in time to parry a blow coming at Samyra from her problematic right side. His blade rang like a bell with the force of the blow and Tirion’s man was flung away to lie crumpled in the sand. Jamirr waded into the fight, drawing off all the opponents except Tirion, who kept his focus on his duel with Samyra.
The crowd was on its feet, screaming approval of this new gladiator, who battled with actual claws and teeth as well as the sword. He made quick work of the others, trying not to kill them but landing disabling strokes.
The volume of crowd noise increased and he spun to see Tirion launching a final flurry of blows, forcing Samyra to retreat. He sprinted to join the fray, moving in on her right side so the enemy couldn’t get at her there. He refrained from taking the offensive with Tirion, leaving that to Samyra, but he blocked any attempt by her opponent to take the weaker side. With renewed energy Samyra drove her enemy back until he hit the wall of the arena and then she held her blade to his throat while Jamirr stayed a few feet behind, in reserve.
“Shall I offer you mercy?” Samyra said through her teeth. “Or should I rid the world of you today?”
Jamirr knew which outcome he preferred although he hated to see Samyra kill the man. The crowd, however, was making its wishes known and clearly wanted Tirion spared. Probably so the rivals could battle it out another day for their bloodthirsty entertainment. Moving so fast she was a blur even to Jamirr, Samyra struck out with her left hand, battering Tirion on his temple with the heavy hilt of her sword and he slumped down the wall to lie blinking in a stupor.
Arena attendants ran in immediately, before she could take any other action, helping Tirion to his feet while the crowd yelled its approval, and dragged him off. The defeated gladiator managed to wave one fist in the air as he stumbled away, leaning hard on the two men in staff uniforms.
Samyra made no move from the spot where she’d stood when she finished the fight. Sensing she was in pain Jamirr tossed aside his sword and stepped forward. Catching her at the waist, he hoisted her onto his shoulder.
“Work it,” he said in a barely audible voice. “We’ll take a victory lap and then I’ll get you to the doctor.”
She didn’t answer him but as he stepped closer to the center of the arena, he felt her straighten and preen and begin waving to the crowd. It was a long circuit around the sands but at some point Darryl released the animals and Jaxur and the two canines joined them, barking and swarming around Jamirr’s legs as if they too wanted to celebrate the victory. Samyra blew kisses to the crowd as she arrived at the sponsors’ box atop his shoulders and the arena manager stepped forward to award her the crown.
“Put me down,” she hissed. “I can stand.”
He set her on the sand as ordered and stood back while she accepted the crown and gave the crowd another minute or two to scream their adulation before she wheeled and marched across the space to the gate. Jamirr strode behind her, on the alert for any sign of weakness. He wouldn’t allow her to collapse in public.
As soon as they were inside the gate and out of the public view, Samyra turned and slapped him hard on the bare chest with both hands. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”
He rocked back on his heels from the force of her blow and her anger.
“Saving your life, mistress,” he said, forcing his natural weapons to retract.
“Samyra the Beast Lady does not need saving, not ever,” she screamed. “I fight my own battles. You’re not even trained—you could have been killed out there.”
“I’m a warrior,” he answered simply. “And hard to kill.”
She spun around. “Come with me. Now.”
As Jamirr hastened after her, he wondered what was coming next. He had no regrets about going onto the sands to save her life, not even if she had him executed or sold. Samyra alive was the most important thing in his life and he’d gladly give his own up to preserve hers. He understood her pride was damaged by his coming to help, even if he’d been careful to make it appear he was only out there to fight the other team, not Tirion himself.
She led him to her private rooms. As the Mistress of a House, she had a dressing room set aside and no need to shower or change in the public space. The moment he was inside and the door closed, she launched herself at him, backing him up to the door. Wrapping her legs around his waist as he caught her, Samyra framed his face with her hands and kissed him hard, her tongue pushing into his mouth and her body grinding against his.
Startled, it took him a second to catch up but then he put his heart into the caress. She fumbled with the fastenings of her breastplate and he helped her. When the highly decorated armor came loose he cast it aside, took a moment to unhook the simple bandeau she wore beneath and then reveled in the feel of her ample breasts against his bare chest. She slipped from his embrace to get a better angle on undoing his pants and when his cock sprang free, she gripped it hard. Her little kilt fell away and he ripped her panties off, using one talon carefully extended. She was hot and wet for him and he lined himself up and thrust. Samyra took him all the way in one powerful move and she was so tight around him he moaned.
“Harder,” she said, nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”
He held her with all his strength and drove into her with a fast rhythm, raw and desperate. They were both in the grip of passion and the aftereffects of the battle in the arena and although he kept himself from hurting her, he gave her what she was begging for, to their mutual satisfaction. He slammed deep, time after time, driven by the way she clenched around him and the sounds she made, guttural moans of pleasure. Samyra threw her head back, hair streaming and closed her eyes as the throes of her release took her. Jamirr followed a second or two behind and he saw white stars as the power of his climax took him by surprise. They clung together, breathing hard, hearts pounding in a shared rhythm. She leaned her head against his chest and her embrace which had been so needy became an affectionate hug. He soaked up the moment, wishing it could last forever.
Of course it didn’t. Samyra wriggled and he immediately set her on her own two feet. She ran one hand over the cut muscles in his abdomen and stepped away. “Refresher’s in there,” she said, pointing to a door off to the side.
“You first,” he told her. Inside he was wondering if what had been such a special thing for him was something she always did after a big fight to work off the adrenaline and the jealousy of unknown men burned inside his heart.
“I’ll just be a minute then.”
He found a wipes dispenser on a table and cleaned himself off, putting his cock away and straightening his pants. When Samyra emerged from the steamy bathroom she was in an animal print robe, with her wet hair twisted into a braid. She gave him a smile but it was perfunctory. “You’d best go tend to the animals,” she said. “Darryl doesn’t like having to keep an eye on them here. Tell him I said for you to take them back to the compound now and I’ll follow later. I need to talk to him about a replacement for the man we lost today.”
He hesitated, wanting to tell her what was in his heart but she was obviously in no mood to talk and looking past him.
“You’ll be fined, you know,” she said with a chuckle, tightening the belt of her robe although he could still glimpse her cleavage.
“For?”
“Improper gladiator attire.” She gestured at his pants. “Not to worry though, the fine gets paid out of your share of the purse.”
