A/N: sixth entry for the OQ prompt party, Saturday.
48. Robin as gladiator and Regina as his domina. (pure smut)
title means "let us live and love" in latin. the following poem is the fifth carmen by Catullus.
[yo, dudes, this is M enough, you've been warned]
Vivamus, atque amemus
Pompeii, 79 AD, 24th of August
.
Soles occidere et redire possunt;
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
Da mi basia mille, deinde centum…
.
Regina loves to be away from Rome.
Her husband stayed there, in their domus, surrounded with whores and his fellow rich friends. She has left yesterday for the summer, brought with her a procession of wagons and ancillae, slaves, food, clothes. Every mile away from Rome, she felt lighter, more free.
Pompeii is a renamed place on the sea, and she found their villa to be perfectly ready to meet her and her court, well-kept during the winter. It is just perfect to be here, away from the boring life of Rome in the summer, the half empty places and streets. Rich people come here, where the air is, usually, clearer and life is more exciting, more lax. This is a place to enjoy with a lover.
And until her husband arrives, that's precisely what she's going to do.
The first morning in Pompeii, she spends time in the pool of their private thermae. She asks for special oils, arrived from the colonies, and ointments that smell like lemons, and she sighs. She feels like she's in a bubble of perfection, and it seems like it won't last so long. She calls for her maid – it's trustworthy, this one, she knows her husband has many slaves spying on her, but not this particular one: she's loyal. Regina saved her life at the market, by buying her: saved her from being bought by a house of whores.
The slave enters, brings her grapes and wine. "Is there something else, domina?"
"Not for now," she answers. "Meum gladiatorem voca."
The girl nods, bows her head and exits. Regina covers herself with a simple white garment. She leaves the leather belt on the chair – it's completely useless right now. The grapes taste like rich wine on her tongue, her finger goes up to curl a lock of her hair. It's long, now – long to the curve of her back, as it should be, but it's not braided as always. Pompeii doesn't need a perfect matrona, after all.
She waits. The sun shines outside, sun of this month of summer, and she stretches, perfectly content as she is. Until, the knock she was waiting for comes. "Yes," she answers, sounding bored.
"You asked for me, domina."
His voice. It washes on her like a balm, and she briefly closes her eyes, with a small smile. She turns slowly. He's almost bare, her gladiator, from the waist up, he only has something to cover himself up. His skin shines of oil, his eyes shine of blue. And he's hers.
And – she is his.
"Yes. I did." She lifts up from her seat, slowly. "How are you? Are your quarters pleasant enough?"
"Yes, thank you," Robin answers, in kind. "But I don't think you called me here to discuss about Pompeii's lovely weather or the architecture of this palace," he smirks. Oh, he's good. He has her wrapped around his finger… a metaphor that will soon become reality.
"No, I didn't," she says. "I just thought…" she gets closer to him, not actually touching yet. "It would be nice to have some time for us, now that we are free to…"
She never ends the sentence, but he nods. He searches down for her hand, and brings it up to his chest. "Your wish is my command," he tells her. "You know, I have no qualms whatsoever."
"No, I know," she says, in a small voice. She retreats her hand, turns her back, walks over to her cup of wine and lifts it to her lips. That is the problem, isn't it? He is her slave, and he will do whatever she orders him to do. Is she better than her husband, after all? Of her filthy, disgusting husband who took her harshly on their first wedding night?
"Regina?" comes his voice from behind, uncertain. She purses her lips. He only uses her name when they're alone, when he doesn't have to call her domina, whenever he can do so. It gives them something of normalcy she's not used to.
Her hand curls around the balcony rail. "It's nothing," she murmurs. "I only wish you did this because you wanted to, not because I force you." Gone is the peace from minutes ago. It's incredibly frustrating how a simple sentence from him can change her mood completely.
"Regina," he calls to her. She feels him come closer, and surround her waist from behind. "Never think, not even for an instant, that I don't want this – what we have."
"But what if, one day, you don't?" she asks. "I could have you killed."
"If so, I will tell you – and I don't think you'd have me killed," he places his chin on the crook of her shoulder, tilts his head to kiss her neck. She sighs, at the sensation. "Come to bed, my darling."
"You have your way with words, I have to admit," she murmurs, her eyes closing. "I was yours at the first word… in fact," she adds, turning to look at him in the eyes, "I don't think I ever told you… you know that, by law, you belong to me," she quickly says, before the courage leaves her, "but my heart belongs to you."
He looks at her with that gaze of affection that makes her weak in the knees. His thumb strokes her cheek, slowly. "Have I stolen that too, then?"
Hearing him speak so freely of the reason behind his captivity pains her, but she shakes her head, leaning in the palm that cups her cheek. "You can't steal something that's been given to you."
He smiles. "You are the real poet here," he compliments, making her blush. He pecks her lips, gently. "Come to bed…"
"Alright," she concedes. He smiles, as if she's just gifted him with something invaluable, and takes her hand. Her bed is still undone, white sheets all crumpled, so Robin strips it off until there's only the mattress left. She hums, biting her lip, excitement rapidly building as she watches him. "What do you plan to do?"
Robin smiles, turning his head to watch her. "That's for me to know," he teases. He lifts up to kiss her again. Whispers against her lips. "… and for you to find out."
"Tempting," she answers, with a murmur that she hopes doesn't give away this feeling of great expectations she has. After all, he is great. He cares for her – even during the roughest of experiences, he always checks on her. He's imaginative. During the time he's belonged to her, she's let him take her in a lot of ways.
"Not as tempting as you," he says. She doesn't miss the way his eyes skim over the curve of her breasts. And, most importantly, she doesn't miss the noticeable bulge of the piece of clothing covering him. Regina looks at him one moment, then brings a hand up to the lace of her garment. She does it slowly, releases the knot, his eyes fixated on her as he watches. She reveals her body inch by inch… he moans appreciatively when she uncovers her breasts, she can tell he already wants her.
Before letting him see her lower half, she tiptoes to kiss his lips. And then she climbs up the bed, lies down, still half covered, smirks at him. "Your turn," she nods at him.
His grin is wide as she climbs up next to her, brings a hand to her hair and kisses her. "Regina," he murmurs. His hands roam her back, pressing her against him, her hair. "Gods, you're a wonder."
She closes her eyes, giving in to his kisses. At the same time, she lets her hand go down, finding him hard against her thigh. The cloth he's wearing is entirely appropriate for a hot summer day, and yet she knows exactly how to untie it, even in her state of current… distraction.
As soon as he's free, her hand curls around his length. She pumps once or twice, making him groan in pleasure. He is panting, and she smiles, entirely entranced with the effect she can have on him. Robin lowers his lips to her neck, sucks her skin – they are, usually, against any kind of mark on their skin for fear her husband would notice, but not today. Today she lets him mark her, because that's perfectly in tune with what she has planned for them.
"Robin," she sighs, her hand curled around his shoulder. "I want you to…"
"Tell me," he pleads.
She shifts, distancing herself from him to look at him. "I want to be yours today," she says. "Please. I want to forget the world and to come so hard I'll pass out…"
He nods slowly, never leaving her gaze. "Do you trust me with this?"
"Always." Her reply is certain. "Your wish is my command now."
"Very well, lovely," he smiles, again with that look that has her so enamored. "If you really wish so, let's start with removing your clothes, shall we?" Regina nods, biting her lower lip, sees him sit and take the edge of her garment between his fingers. He caresses her thigh, his hands sending shivers up her skin.
His other hand palms her breast, titillates her nipple, already hardened with the stimulation he's providing. In seconds, they're both bare, Robin throws away her dress. His mouth nears her breast, taking the tip inside, and sucking gently. Regina lets out a low moan. He does this… he starts slowly, to melt her to a puddle of nothing, and then he's more rough, but she doesn't want slow today. "More," she begs.
Robin smiles against her skin. "Do you really want to get down to it now?" he asks. "I was hoping to go slow with you, ease you into the things I've planned… and of course, don't forget I dictate the rules today."
"Alright," she concedes. "How do you want me?"
"Lie down," he instructs. "Spread your legs."
He's going with a classic, Regina thinks, as she complies to his command. He's always loved to have her like that. Robin lowers down, a palm pressing on the curve of her ass. His hand trails on her skin to reach her clit. Her eyes are on him as he observes, he valuates. Then, he tells her, Stay still, and lifts up, and down the bed to reach one of her silk belts. "I want you to completely focus on this," he announces. Returns there with her and one hand slides under her head, cradling it up. He passes the cloth around, and she finds her vision impaired as he ties it down.
"I have to say, I'm pleased with this arrangement," she says, his hand cups her cheek briefly before losing contact. She feels him lower down between her thighs, and he chastises, "I believe I told you to spread your legs, love."
"Sorry," she tells him, with a grin, and opens them. The bed moves, the mattress sinks with the shift of his body. She feels his fingers, pressing on her, stroking her there, and a well-known wetness pools between her legs but doesn't leak yet.
He strokes once again, circling the little bundle with soft touches. "Tell me, Regina," he whispers. All sensations are amplified by the cloth that makes her blind, so his whisper affects her as if he's murmuring words in her ear. "Tell me how it feels like. Don't stop speaking – not even when you're about to come." He definitely lowers down, now. His stubble is pressed lightly between her legs. "And don't forget, ask me if you can come."
She expects the moment, but the feeling of his tongue on her clit is surprisingly intense. She moves her leg, slightly, her eyes closing beneath the cloth. "It's… oh," she lets out. "I can feel you – your tongue on me, and – it's so good," she sighs. It's only the start of that building sensation, but already delicious. "I feel your hands – your fingers on my skin, and one hand there in my core, your fingers, and your tongue is – " she whimpers, her thighs already trembling. "Oh gods, please," she moans, forgetting about the orders he's given her, because his tongue against her is just too delightful…
Her eyes roll, her fingers clenching the mattress as Robin laps at her juices. He has sped up the pace… She attempts another frantic description of what she's feeling, her hand between his hair. "It's – mmm – oh, so wonderful," she says, "the way you're making me feel, don't stop – I'm just so close…"
He inexplicably slows down, lifting his head, and she knows he's watching her. "No," she moans. "Don't stop, please, let me come… please…" and it's almost like he wanted her there – to say it, so he resumes. She's nothing but a bundle of nerves at this point, a trembling mess of ecstasy and she wants it, she wants him – she wants more, more – "Please please can I now – I'm coming, please!" it exits like a shout, a unique string of choked words. Robin adds his fingers, substitutes his tongue with his fingers to stroke her.
She tightens around him, her insides clenching and fluctuating as she comes hard, her head thrown backwards, her back arched, arched against his hand. He goes on stroking, tells her You're not done, love – her legs whimper again as she fights to distance herself from the delicious waves, but he continues. Regina screams, then bites her lip, as he doesn't let her get away – he keeps her in place with the other hand, keeps her thigh down and firm to make her come again – or maybe it's just a single, long cum, she doesn't know.
"Oh please!" she shouts, fighting, but he doesn't listen. She has asked for this, after all. He strokes her sensitive bud until she feels like she's gonna pass out. Her head bobs to the side, until finally, he lets her ride out that immense orgasm and retreats his fingers. She collapses back to the mattress, that is no doubt sporting a stain of her juices, and pants slowly, her heartbeat frantic against her ribcage.
She's vaguely aware of Robin's hand coming up to her head, untying the knot and giving her back her sight. He caresses her hair, whispers, amused, Are you alright?
She growls, eyes still closed, finds his hand and places it just above her breast, where her heart beats. "You did this," she tells him. "Look at how undone you made me."
"Only the best for you," he teases. She opens her eyes and cups the back of his head to kiss him. The kiss is feral, animalistic, her aggressive and him equally fighting her tongue, her nails scratching his back.
"Do you think of this when you're in the arena?" she asks, curious. His gaze stills, he looks at her. She gulps, asking herself if she's touched a sore spot. "Do you think of me? Of surviving, so that you can come back to me?"
He stays silent for a moment before answering. "I find out you are a very… convincing way to remind myself to keep fighting," he says. "But… yes, I think of you. Often… I touch myself and I think of when I'll be able to have you again, to see you again, to hear your voice."
As he speaks, he moves on the bed, shifts so he can place himself behind her. He circles her with his legs, so that she's in the middle, and Regina represses a shiver as he speaks, low next to her. "I think of you always," he whispers. One of his hands cups her breast, his lips planting wet kisses on her neck. "Of having you for me, just for me, and to see you like this – naked, glorious in your beauty, no more pretty dresses and purple silks on your skin." His other hand descends to where she's still sensitive, and starts touching her. He gives her lazy strokes, but enough to have her writhe slightly, a low moan starting in her belly.
"Robin," she says in a whisper, like a prayer.
"I think of all the times I made you come for me – I made you kneel, or I kneeled for you, to give each other pleasure. I think of when," he inserts one finger, starts pumping with a slow motion, "when I have your lips around my cock, when I sink into you and you scream to the gods. How much do the gods envy us, Regina? Sometimes I think you're Venus herself…"
"Please," she moans – she literally came minutes ago, and he has her on the edge with his beautiful words and skilled fingers. "Take me – please, now…"
"Do you want me, Regina? Tell me what you want and it's yours," he promises, still moving inside of her, still tormenting her nipple in the best of ways.
"Fuck me," she exhales, "as you want, but do it… oh, gods…"
"As you wish," he immediately says. She trembles with excitement as he abandons her breast and retreats his finger. She watches, as he pads down the bed to her table, she hugs her knees as he selects a vial of oil from her collection. Oh. She has a subtle feeling of what's about to come.
When Robin climbs up the bed again, she chooses to use that look that drives him mad – those sultry eyes, which promise the best things, and he doesn't fail to fall in her trap. He kisses her again, devouring her mouth, biting her lip, giving her a taste of her immediate future.
When he breaks the kiss, she knows she's in for a treat.
"Turn around, on all fours," he commands. Regina tries to ignore the furious thumping of her heart as she complies, her hair cascading down like a curtain. His hand massages the cheek of her ass, his other hand presses against her thighs to spread them wider. He caresses her spine, a last gentle movement to check if she's alright. "May I go on?"
"Yes," she says, adjusting herself on the mattress, her hands going to press on the headboard. The first feeling of her oils on her skin is weird – as always, he draws circles around her hole, and she clenches at the wood. She did give him full control, after all, and she may not like the start, but she rather likes it when he's inside her, when she's so full…
"All right?"
"Robin, I promise," she says, her head turning to look at him, even for a rapid glance. "If I'm not alright I'm going to tell you right away… oh." The feeling of his finger is… pleasing, even if a bit sudden, but still likeable, as she shifts to accommodate him better. "Oh, this is good," she moans.
"You like it?" he asks, his voice low and primal. "More?"
"Yes – yes, please," she nods, curling her hands around the headboard. "I want you…"
The oil spreads on her cheeks, some of it leaking down her legs as she waits for him to enter her. He's still hard – he didn't have the chance to come yet, she can feel his length pressing on her thigh now. She closes her eyes, breathing slowly, as she has him open her some more. She's so lucky, she thinks. He's so attentive, always looking out for her pleasure, always caring – his hand grips her hips, and Regina bites her lip. This is her least favorite moment, but despite his promises to go rough, he slides in gently, careful not to hurt her. When he'll start moving, however…
"Yes," she pants. "Go on…"
He pushes some more, and she grits her teeth. That hurt a bit – more oil, she requests. He abandons her hips promptly to pour some, just the right amount to finally fill her… "Wait," she asks, her eyes closed. He knows she needs a moment, he stills, as she breathes, adjusting to the feeling of him inside. "Alright," she says after a bit, "do your best," she teases him.
She can feel him behind her, he was in need of some seconds too, as he tries not to come already. The temptation must be great – she knows he'll hold on, however. When he starts pushing, she quickly takes the rhythm along with him. He makes her feel so full – it's different from when he's inside of her properly, this is… different, it feels dirtier, she feels bold and she rocks against him.
Skin slaps on skin as he fasten his pace, grunting above her, she moans loudly and her hands abandon the headboard to clench the sheets. He pushes with one hand on her back, forcing her to bow down, and oh. This hits another spot, changes the angle, Regina lets out a scream – "Oh gods Robin, yes, more, yes!"
"Are you gonna come like this?"
"Oh fuck yes – yes, fuck me, please – "
He grinds against her with more strength, and she knows her butthole will feel terribly sore tomorrow, but she couldn't care less. His hand curves around her hip, his other hand takes hold of her hair.
"Oh, YES!" she screams, as he rides her, she bites her lip so hard she bleeds.
"Gods Regina godsimgonnacome" he says, too far gone, "touch yourself, touch – "
"No," she says, "no – I already did –" and she doesn't need to, she'd rather have him pound on her and come, "please Robin come on me, please –"
He doesn't answer, but she feels him clench his hand around her as she fists the sheets, and then the warm sensation of him into her, him finally giving in. "Yess," he murmurs, "oh gods you're a wonder, you're amazing –"
Regina's head bobs down, her breath exiting in exhausted puffs. She didn't come, but she's still so close – so she asks. "May I, can you touch me, I wanna – "
"Yes," he says, then takes the oil behind her, pours some on his palm to smoother his exit. He slides out slowly, Regina holding her breath until he's out, then rolling down to her stomach and on her back. "Spread your legs, lovely," he tells her. She's so close she can already taste her orgasm, so she complies.
"Touch yourself," he says, and she starts rubbing the sensitive spot as he pushes two fingers into her. it doesn't take much, and she's soon writhing on the bed, him holding her chin so she doesn't look away from him as she comes hard, moaning her pleasure to the sky. Her hand falls limp to her side afterwards.
She realizes, just now, the state she's into – disheveled, naked, oily, tired, incredibly at peace with the world. Robin comes to lie next to her, props his head up with one hand. "You alright?" he asks, smiling at her as the caring lover he is, and she nods.
"I am," she smiles back, lifting her head to kiss him. "I missed you so much…"
"Likewise," he tells her. "You, my darling, are the best thing that's ever happened to me." She feels moisture sting at the corners of her eyes, when he says it, and turns her head to the other side. He reads her, however, as he always does so well, like they were born from the same star. "What's wrong?"
Regina wipes away the lonely tear that escaped her eyes, and answers. "Nothing's wrong," she admits, with a soft voice. "I just – I, never thought I'd have this. Something like… us. I don't want it to end, ever."
He nods, his thumb stroking her cheek. "You will have me around for a long time," he promises. "And as soon as we can, we will start a new life, together. Here or in the Elysium, my love. Never doubt that."
"Alright," she says, whispers, as Robin kisses her lips and his hand tangles in her hair. He kisses her, and she forgets the future for a moment, a glorious moment where the universe is gone and they're the only thing that matters. He has showed her the stars, and she will never look back again.
.
.
In 79 AD, at around 1 pm of the 24th of August, Mount Vesuvius erupted in one of the most catastrophic disasters of ancient history. It destroyed various cities around the mountain, burying about 17 thousand people. Only 1,500 remains of bodies have been found.
Between those remains, there were interesting examples of particular situations. Curled up, holding hands, children, lovers: surprised during moments of their lives by the deadly wave.
Forever still, forever remembered.
