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Roxanna reclined upon her bed, a partially unfurled scroll held precariously in one hand. Her other hand had fallen to her side and the opened portion of the scroll rested upon her body. She had fallen asleep while reading. Felicity had escorted Caesar to the doorway but had not stepped inside and was unaware of her mistress’ vulnerable state.
Caesar smiled. He had awakened beside her one time, after a brief nap, and had watched her sleep for a moment, but he had never caught her completely unawares. He crept up beside the bed and gazed down at Roxanna. Her face, perfectly relaxed, looked like that of a girl. The childlike resemblance ended there, as the rest of her was woman. She wore a sheer, multi-layered dressing gown that had fallen open enough to reveal a valley of cleavage. One leg was completely uncovered from toes to high upon the thigh. A small tag dangling from the scroll identified it as Sappho.
Caesar carefully lowered his weight to the bed, sitting beside her and stroked aside a tendril of hair that had loosened itself from the silver combs supporting the rest of her upswept fiery curls. Roxanna stirred and lazily opened her eyes.
She smiled sleepily at him. “Gaius Julius, I have never seen you in full senatorial regalia; you almost make me feel guilty for having fallen asleep.”
Roxanna had addressed him as Senator, by his full name, and by his cognomen (which was his preference), but she had never used his familiar name, even in the throes of passion. Caesar found the concept oddly arousing. He wondered how much more so it might be if she should call him by his praenomen alone, to hear her whisper “Gaius” against his neck as he entered her. She had distracted him far too easily, he realized.
“Almost? I am devastated; I thought to dazzle you with the power of my station,” he jested, stroking the side of her face gently before he stood.
She stretched languidly and laid the scroll aside before standing to face him.
Roxanna lifted her hands slightly, gesturing with her eyes at his civic crown. “May I?” Caesar nodded and Roxanna lifted it from his head, resting it carefully upon the bed. She stroked his left arm, which was bent to support the folds of the toga, again eyeing him askance. He relaxed his arm and she unwound the heavy garment, taking care to fold it neatly before discarding it beside the crown.
She took his hand and led him to one of the comfortable chairs flanking the citrus wood table. When he was seated, she poured him a cup of wine and then drew a small footstool before him. Caesar was mildly surprised when she sat on the stool, lifted one of his legs across her knees and unbuckled the red clasp of his shoe.
“Roxanna, this is not necessary,” he began.
“Shhh,” she shushed him. “I am your host and it is my duty to see to your comfort.” Her words were softened by her smile. After removing his shoes, she excused herself into the adjoining room and returned with a bowl of rosewater, a sponge and a towel. Caesar opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a pointed look. Roxanna sat the bowl on the floor and opened her gown to mid-thigh as she sat back on the stool and covered her legs with the towel. She brought both his feet into her lap and absently hummed a familiar tune as she washed and then dried his feet and legs. She then retreated with the bathing items into the other room. This time she returned with a long-stemmed glass bottle and another soft towel.
Caesar’s only resistance was a slow shake of his head, but Roxanna read the upturned corners of his lips as proof positive that he was enjoying this attention. Drawing his feet into her lap again, she poured a small portion of the scented oil into the cup of her palm and massaged it into his legs. She hummed again as she discovered and loosened all the little pockets of tension in his muscles. She poured more oil and applied it to his feet, where her expert fingers worked some miracle that somehow relaxed his entire body. He gave a contented sigh as she lowered his feet to the mosaic floor and then wiped the excess oil from her hands with the towel. He sat his empty cup on the table and smiled at the wonderful woman still sitting on the stool before him.
The pure pleasure in his eyes caused Roxanna to blush, something she felt sure she had not done in years. She had become accustomed to giving men pleasure with her body, but the simple act of rubbing this man’s feet held an intimacy she had rarely known. She lowered her head, flustered by the pink betrayal of her own flesh. She did not raise her head and meet his eyes until the tingling sensation faded from her face. She was relieved that he did not remark upon the incident, which she knew he had clearly seen.
He fixed his eyes upon hers. “Please forgive my lateness,” he said.
“You provided me with a rarity: a bit of peace and quiet; if anything, I should thank you,” Roxanna replied.
Caesar stood and walked to the bed, gathering his toga beylikdüzü escort and crown.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice betraying her disappointment.
Caesar glanced over his shoulder at her as he picked up the scroll she had left upon the bed, “Leaving?” He turned with his arms full. “No. Your scroll and my crown are rather delicate, and this happens to be my best toga, so I thought it wise to remove them to a safer location.” He deposited the stack in the chair he had so recently occupied and gave her a crooked smile. “Yes, they shall be safer in this chair.”
Roxanna watched as Caesar closed and bolted the doors and then turned to her. He smiled as he approached her and his nearness triggered the usual reactions within her body. He extended one hand and drew her to her feet. “For one who warns so strongly against infatuation, you seem quite disturbed at the idea of my leaving.” His smile would have been sardonic, were it not for the playfulness in his eyes.
“I…it is,” Roxanna became flustered and, to her surprise, felt herself blushing again under his amused scrutiny.
“Do not worry, that is not my plan,” he said, soothingly, as he drew her close. He lifted her, one arm supporting her upper back and the other catching her beneath her knees.
Roxanna wrapped her arms around his neck and purred, “What exactly is your plan?”
He carried her to the bed and gently laid her down. He sat beside her, calmly unclasped her gown and opened it completely, revealing her wondrous flesh in all its beauty. “My plan,” he began, pausing to pull his tunic over his head, “is to ravish you so completely that the only word you can draw from your mind and past your lips is my name.”
Roxanna took a breath to speak out, but he stayed her words with one finger across her lips as he lowered himself onto the bed.
“Not now, Roxanna,” he warned in a quiet voice. He was on his side, facing her, and her body betrayed her by rolling to face him. He held her eyes as he pushed the sleeve of her gown off her shoulder and freed her arm. He ran his fingers over her arm and dropped his eyes, drinking in the sight of her naked body. “Mars has been known to set aside his shield for such beauty,” he whispered.
Roxanna was mesmerized by the reverence in his voice and facial expression. She watched as his graceful hand hovered above the dip between her ribcage and her hip for a moment before he lowered it and extended his index finger, tracing it across the depression of her navel before lifting it so that he was no longer touching her. She could not see his hand when he next made contact with her skin, again barely touching her at all as he ran the same finger against the hollow at the base of her neck. He lifted his hand again and she felt his finger against the line of cleavage between her breasts.
Caesar continued in this manner, tracing a ghost of a touch over the inside of her elbow, beneath her lips, the shell of her ear, the curve of her cheek. He turned her hand over and traced the lines in her palm. Roxanna shivered.
His eyes returned to hers and he cupped her face in his palm. He did not close his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers, the touch of his mouth as soft as the touch of his hand. When he parted his lips, she did also. The kindling passion within her caused her eyes to close, but his kiss remained tender as if he wanted nothing more than to catch her lips between his own over and over.
When he had driven her to distraction, she opened her eyes, looking directly into his. He gently sucked her lower lip into his mouth and ran his tongue over it before releasing it, finally kissing her fully and deeply as he shifted his position to enclose her face in both his hands. Roxanna cradled the back of his head in her hand and wrapped her leg around his.
Caesar knew Roxanna would use her leg to pull their bodies together. He also knew that, if he allowed her to do so, he would be powerless to resist her. He broke the kiss as slowly as he dared and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. He had read her right and she played beautifully into his plan by not releasing his leg as he executed the roll. Now that she was lying on top of him with one leg already outside his, Caesar felt certain she would carry out the next portion of his plan for him.
Roxanna realized she was in the position of power now, and she intended to make the most of it. Taking the weight of her upper body on her hands, which were positioned at either side of Caesar’s head, she pulled her legs up so her knees were outside his hips.
Caesar caught the back of her head in his hands and crushed her lips to his. Roxanna had done exactly what he had hoped, but he was finding it difficult to think beyond the velvet warmth of her tongue. Finally, he had a firm grip beneath each of her knees and was ready for her to make the next move.
Roxanna’s desire, fed by his kiss, demanded contact of a more beyoğlu escort intimate nature that would be difficult to achieve in her current position. She broke the kiss and rocked back on her knees.
Caesar tensed as she pulled back and, when she was perfectly balanced, he tightened his grip behind her knees and pulled her forward. As he had expected, the effort had also pushed his body downward slightly, toward the foot of the bed. Neither change was great, but the combined effect was perfect. When Roxanna lowered herself onto him, her body met his stomach- considerably higher than the area for which she had aimed.
Her brow knit in frustration, she tried to correct her position. Caesar’s strong hands on her hips prevented her from moving. She eyed askance of him.
Caesar shook his head. He let go of her hips and took her hands, pulling her slowly forward, back up onto her knees. “Perfect,” he whispered. He caressed her with both hands, running them up the outsides of her thighs, her waist, and her ribcage. Then he slowly moved inward, cupping one perfect breast in each hand. Caesar and Roxanna were perfectly still, the worshipper and the worshipped.
He released his hold upon them, brushing her nipples with his palms as he worked his hands in a slow circular motion. He pressed his hands against her breasts again and ran each of his middle fingers over the bumpy flesh surrounding her nipples until she sighed, then he caught them between his index and middle fingers, massaging them until she moaned. He was looking directly into her eyes when he pinched them lightly, causing her lips to part in a gasp. He dropped his hands back to her hips.
Roxanna instinctively pouted and cupped one breast, leaning forward and offering it to Caesar’s mouth as she took her weight on her free hand. She stroked his lips with her hardened nipple. Caesar pushed her hand away as he grabbed her breast, his other arm wrapping around her, pulling her forward as he closed his lips on her, sucking. She obliged him, supporting the weight of her upper body on her arms as he squeezed her tits with both hands, his mouth moving from one to the other. He pushed them together and frantically pulled both nipples into his mouth at the same time. He pulled her down onto him, burying his face between them.
When the pleasure became unbearable, she pulled away and laid down on her back, reaching for him. Caesar moved to her side, kissing her until they were both breathless. Roxanna wrapped her leg around his and, this time he did not resist her when she pulled him closer, rolling to her side to meet his body.
Caesar’s touches became gentle again as he rolled her onto her back and moved over her. He slipped his left hand beneath her, resting his palm between her shoulder blades. His right hand stroked the back of her neck and he kissed her, looking into her eyes as he entered her.
His face was too close to focus upon, but Roxanna saw that his eyes widened as he slowly pushed deeper into her. When he was completely inside of her, his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned against her lips. Her hands were on his back and she pressed him closer, breaking the kiss and nuzzling her face against his neck. She took a deep breath, the smell of his skin as arousing as its feel. She felt his hands pull her closer still and they simply held each other that way for what seemed both an eternity and a fleeting moment.
Neither Caesar, nor Roxanna could remember exactly when it happened or who had initiated it, they just realized they were moving and allowed it to happen, though they did not release their tight hold upon each other. Each time they moved away from each other only made the next coming together sweeter. The rhythm did not vary; there was no hurry as time was suspended for them. Her face was against his neck and his face was enveloped in her hair. Her legs were wrapped loosely around his waist, allowing them to move against each other easily. The only sounds were their sighs.
Caesar knew by the little moans escaping Roxanna; by the tension he felt in the muscles of her neck and back and by the quivering of the muscles in her legs that she was close. The knowledge that he was pleasing her affected him deeply and soon his broken breath informed Roxanna that Caesar was close as well. His pleasure moved her just as hers moved him, fanning the flames of passion.
In the final moments, he lifted himself to look at her. Roxanna’s eyes widened, her grip increased upon his back, her teeth chattered and, as he felt the first contractions of her tightness against him, she pulled his face back beside hers. “Oh, Gaius,” she whispered.
“Roxanna,” was his growled reply as he maintained the rhythm through the first of his own spasms before giving himself over to instinct and delivering his seed into her womb with one final deep thrust.
She took his weight when he relaxed upon her, spent. His tenderness had shattered her. She wanted bomonti escort only to lie like this, in his arms, with his breath caressing her ear and the droplets of their mingled sweat tickling her sides. She wished only to hold him with her arms and her legs, for him to stay inside of her until nature saw fit to separate them.
Caesar stirred and Roxanna tightened her arms and legs around him involuntarily. He lifted his head and smiled down at her, a bead of sweat falling from the end of his nose to her chin. “Am I not suffocating you?”
“No,” she half lied; it was difficult to catch her breath, but not worth releasing him and having him release her. She closed her eyes and pulled him back to her.
Caesar submitted, his soft laughter against her damp neck giving her chills.
Roxanna finally became uncomfortable enough to free him and he rolled onto his back. The night was hot and they were coated in sweat. Caesar slept upon the cool, dry linens onto which he had escaped. Roxanna arose and slipped into the adjoining room. This was her dressing room. Its walls were lined with thick cedar shelves, save the area occupied by a beautifully carved cedar table and matching pedestal seat- all gifts from an Egyptian ambassador.
Vials of perfume and bottles of scented oil were neatly ordered upon the table before the large, highly polished brass mirror. The assortment of creams and ointments she used to hold the ravages of time at bay were discreetly stored in a small basket with a lid. The sponge in the bowl of rosewater sat beside the empty water pitcher.
Her clothing was neatly folded and arranged to her specifications. Between the stacks were cachets of lavender and fennel, which, along with the cedar of the shelves, protected against fleas and moths.
Bed linens and towels of various sizes were stored upon the shelves along the back wall. Beside these was a large basket containing sponges, loofahs and pumice stones. The lowest shelf bore several lengths of fabric. Beneath these were the newest additions to her wardrobe- though they were not meant for her: two tunics, two togas, two belts, a pair of sandals, a pair of shoes, and a dark woolen cloak. Tonight was the first time he had come to her in his senatorial splendor, but she had ordered the extra set of clothing nonetheless. She had considered everything; a box lined in fine Coan cloth held the intricately woven oak leaves of a civic crown. One must be prepared for any situation and, for Caesar, that included guarding his honor and, if need be, his identity.
Roxanna passed through this room and into her personal bathing chamber. Another thick, bolted door separated it from the corridor. She unbolted it and opened it only wide enough to call for Ajax. She whispered to him for a moment and then retreated into her bath, closing the door behind her. She padded back into her bedchamber and gathered his discarded tunic and toga. When she returned to her bathing chamber, the lamps had been lit and four kitchen slaves were pouring hot water from two amphorae into the large pool. Another slave had opened the tap above the pool and cool water was mixing with the hot. Roxanna gave instructions for the temperature of the water and handed the tunic and toga over to Felicity with more instructions.
Roxanna unbolted the door to her bedchamber before going to sit on the bed. “Caesar,” she called him from sleep in a singsong voice, stroking his damp hair. She smiled when he opened his dark eyes. “You are lucky this night is so hot; I would be sorely tempted to allow you to sleep if there were a dry spot on this bed to which I could retreat.”
He returned her smile. “You are not prone to the wiles of temptation.”
Roxanna rolled her eyes and laughed in response. “Come; the hour grows late.”
Caesar stood, stretched and then followed Roxanna through her dressing room and into the bath, his eyes taking stock of her many luxuries. The knowledge of how she afforded such items stung him. Jealousy was not an emotion he was accustomed to, though he recognized it easily enough. He told himself that these items could easily have been purchased with her winnings from Crassus, whom she had never touched. The thought acted as a balm.
“In you go,” she gestured to the steps at one end of the bath.
Caesar’s ever-vigilant eyes saw the towels and bathing implements sitting upon a low table beside the pool and knew there would be no attending slaves. Roxanna was a master at discretion; other than the guard who always admitted him to the property and the girl who always welcomed him, Roxanna had shielded his visits completely from what must have been a very large staff.
He stepped into the water and found its temperature perfect, cool enough to be refreshing and warm enough to be comfortable. He sat upon the wide bench that lined the sides of the bath and sighed in contentment before he slid down, disappearing beneath the water. Roxanna saw his fingers moving through his hair and then he resurfaced, shaking his head.
Roxanna’s voice was quiet, as she did not like the echoes in this room. Even the profusion of plants and the heavy window coverings did not completely eliminate the effect. “What do you prefer for your bath?” One hand was poised over the options.
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