Summary: He's next in line for the Roman throne, and she's the half-Egyptian, half-Asian slave girl who forgot to mention that she's rightfully the queen of her people - in two different continents. He doesn't know whether he should scold her or snog her. Maybe he could scog her. No, wait, that sounds like he's choking her.

Anything you know about Ancient Rome (and ancient anything, for that matter) is thrown to shit in this story. In fact, I'm pretty sure everything in this story is historically, politically, socially, linguistically and mathematically incorrect.

Peppermint

He holds her in his embrace, and breathes in her scent - peppermint, he believes, is the most sensuous aroma and on her, it is even better.

He holds her tighter.

Nuzzling his nose along the column of her throat, he asks, "How did you learn how to read and write?"

He can feel her tense, her breath caught in her throat, until forcing her body to relax. He ignores it and runs a hand down the length of her nude body. "Tell me," he whispers huskily, his fingers drawing random shapes on the silky, smooth skin of her thigh.

"My father sent me to school." No other explanation is given and he is left unsatisfied.

"You don't look Egyptian," he says bluntly, obviously, curiously.

"My mother isn't." Simple. Detached. Jaded.

He pulls on her thick, dark hair and kisses her roughly. "I want to know everything about you. At least give me that satisfaction."

He feels her struggling against his hold, beating against his chest, as he locks her against himself, rocking into her. "I have given you my body every night since I was seventeen. Three years of fucking and you're still not satisfied?"

He throws her against the pillows and grabs her ankles, spreading her wide underneath his intense gaze. "Do I have a harem?" he demands. He hears her quiet murmur, "No."

"A lover? A wife? Illegitimate children?" he throws at her, his words fused with unfiltered anger. It vanishes when he hears her reluctant response. "No."

He leans over her body, caging her hips against his. As he sucks on her collarbone, he hears her hiss, "But that doesn't mean shit to me."

He slowly pulls himself away to glare down into her almond-shape eyes. "Why do you always like to defy me? Does it always get you hot when I grab onto your body and bend you over?" He smirks and bends down to lick her hot cheek. "Don't worry. It gets me hot, too."

He rolls onto his back and pulls her to his side, blanketing her with his warmth. He hears her sigh, "I don't want anyone to walk in." On us, he thinks bitterly but pushes the thought aside as he brings the silky, red fabric at their feet over their bodies.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and smiles faintly as she curls up against his side, snaking her right arm across his stomach to hold his left hand. He notices that sleep has taken over her body but knows that her thoughts are centered on him. He holds her in his embrace, and breathes in her scent - peppermint, he believes, is the most sensuous aroma and on her, it is even better.

He holds her tighter.

A/N: I'm not going to lie. Raspberry and Classic Case of the Girl Who Was Cheated On are officially on hiatus. I'm embarking on a brain fart that will probably last me until the end of high school. But they will be finished. Maybe not in this lifetime. Kidding. I'll figure something out. This new story is just to get me out of my funk, and I can't guarantee that I'll finish this also. Oh, well.