Golden skin shimmered as he shifted his body against hers; the weight of him and angle of his hips giving rise to her pleasure with each thrust. She could feel as his agitation grew, watched his muscles strain and his breathing quicken. She was no stranger to the signals of a man's body and was not going to be denied the bounty for which she'd paid so steep a price. Spurring him on with her heels like a beast, she encouraged him to take all she freely offered.

His mind and actions returned to purpose and Ilithyia felt the edge closer. Stilling her body she held her breath, and right before mounting the peak she felt her pleasure slip from her grasp. She cried out in frustration. She had thought Crixus would be able to achieve greatness where her husband could not. Gaius could only see her there with his talented tongue. Never pounding her and ravaging her like she desired. She had dreamed of it and yet her body betrayed her; keeping the height of her pleasure just out of reach.

Prying her eyes open in search of an anchor, she searched for something to keep her from slipping. Her eyes found the 'B' branded on his inner forearm. The skin there was angry and rough. He was a gladiator, he'd earned the cursed thing with his ability to take a man's life and cast it adrift of this world. He was a brother, and all those like him carried the mark. Her eyes sought a deeper meaning still; at the core of his mark he was a slave.

She was being taken by a slave; a man who didn't have the worth to speak a word in her presence. A man, no a pet, a broken thing devoid of will and completely at hers. She felt her body reignite at the thought. Focusing her mind on the steady rhythm of his hips and the smell of his sweat, a spark of excitement ran the length of her spine. The firm press of him inside her, invading her body; her own pace turned frantic. He was on the edge himself; his control but a straining cord, her pleasure. He could not be finished without it. She let herself picture the invasion on different terms, her serving his needs and pleasuring his body with hers.

She cried out then, as her body was assaulted by waves of sweet release. He groaned and stilled against her and she revealed in the feeling as his warmth spread within her, her body convulsing around his.

She pried her body from his, stiff hips groaning and muscles aching with use. Rolling onto her side, she smiled beneath her mask. She could feel his eyes upon her, his hand swept the golden curls off her neck and his mouth seared a kiss onto her shoulder. She didn't shy from his intimate touch, but she craved the breath of fresh air on her moist skin that she couldn't find in his hot embrace.

When she didn't respond to his touch, he set upon her like an unsatisfied mongrel. He was entering her again before her skin had a chance to cool, the pace made her head spin. Her thighs, sticky and wet with his seed wrapped around him yet again. She yearned for it, her thoughts strewn and messy she wanted nothing more than his touch. The air was thick and her throat clenched and she choked against his name.

"Spartacus."

Ilithyia sat up with a gasp. Her body was drenched with cold sweat. She'd been having the same horrible nightmare since her pregnancy had been confirmed by the medicus.

She had never seen Gaius happier than when he'd heard the news. It made her heart clench to know the horrid truth about the thing writhing and growing beneath her skin. She'd replayed the events of that night in her mind so many times. It was no longer the masks being ripped away, or the feel of his impossibly strong hands on her neck that tortured her thoughts and kept her awake at night.

The enemy of more peaceful dreams, the incessant, and churning desire rooted deeply and hidden well as if a fire within the darkest places of her. The pleasure wrought upon her at the hands of Spartacus; whenever eyes closed she saw his golden skin and it turned hers shades of passionate red.

She scolded herself for the heinous thought and quickly removed herself from the bed. She called for a bath and resolved to put her thoughts to proper cause. Gaius had sent word he was bringing news from her father. News from the Senate.