When In Rome – 06 by LiterateCockSlut
Author’s Notes
Sorry Chapter 6 took so long – I’ve had some pretty annoying computer issues and it took longer to fix than the computer guy estimated. Plus, this chapter is 8,000 words long, so it took a little longer and I couldn’t find an acceptable way to split it.
If you’re a fan of this series, but rape isn’t something you want to read – just skip scene one. The next two are perfectly consentual. (For now, this rape scene looks like just a random, gratuitious act of violence – but I assure it, it will end up being a key part of the plot. I didn’t write it for “fun”).
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CHAPTER THREE:
Scene 01: Julia – Sex? Rape.
Scene 02: Callia – Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Cassius – Sex? Yes.
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JULIA
Julia laughed as the drops of water spattered against her face. She spun to face her husband and pointed a teasing finger at his face. He was still leaning over the tub, smirking at her.
“Splash me again, and I promise, my love.. I will make you late.” She dropped her robe to the floor and reveled in the expression that crossed his face.
He glared at her, mock-fury on his face, but he couldn’t hide his smile for long. She loved that a smile, so unguarded on the face of an ex-soldier who had seen far too much for several lifetimes. She pressed her lips against his mouth, and then he kissed her nose and her eyelids.
“I must go.” He yanked her robe off the floor and tossed it to her, the smile never leaving his face. “Now put that back on or I’ll never make it out the door.”
He was a good man, her husband. The best she’d ever known. When she’d turned twenty, the man who owned her, Lykos, had auctioned her off, and she’d thought she’d be dead in days. But her Titus had shown up, and he’d bid every coin he had to his name. He’d gone broke to save her. To buy her freedom. To make her his wife.
He kissed her forehead before walking out the door. “I’ll be home by sunrise. I love you, Julia.”
Not as much as I love you.
She was still smiling as she curled into their bed, a bed she’d taken so long to get used to. Now she couldn’t imagine ever going back to sleeping on a dirty straw covered floor in Lykos’ slave pens. She fell asleep, and dreamed of the beautiful, blond God of a man who had saved her life.
And she woke up to a nightmare.
She had felt the bed move, but she’d thought it was Titus, home early to sleep beside her. But the scarred man hovering over her was not blond like Titus. The knee forcing her legs wide open did not belong to her husband. The hand covering her mouth smelled like spices and sweat, not the wood her husband used to build homes.
She jerked her entire body, trying to fight off the strange body on top of her. She tried to scream. She moved her head just enough to sink her teeth into his fingers, but his hand moved only long enough to strike her across the face, and then it was on her throat, catching her frantic cries in a closed off throat.
“Please,” she tried to beg. She wasn’t a whore anymore. She wasn’t a willing body to be used by strangers. Her Titus had bought her freedom. “Get off me.”
The stranger laughed, and her blood ran cold. She was not blind or deaf to what was happening in Rome, and she cried out as he licked, licked, the side of her face.
She tried to rock her body upward, but her held her too tightly. One arm was around her throat, and she tried to dig at his face. Her nails raked at his skin, and she could see the blood welling in the tracks and was rewarded with another slap that somewhere closer to a punch.
His lips pressed against her ear and she felt her stomach turn as he forced his hand between her thighs. “Don’t fight it, Little Whore. The first time I fuck you will be in your husband’s bed.”
First time? No, not if she could help it. There would be no ‘first time.’ Her heart pounded in her chest, ice flowed through her veins. She felt like she’d awoken from a nightmare and had yet to shake off the last vestiges of terror from the things she’d seen. But tears pooled in her eyes, because the nightmare was real.
His hand freed her throat, and she gasped for a breath just long enough to take in enough air to scream, but before she could make a sound, cloth was being shoved in her mouth. She clawed and punched at his chest as he tied the cloth gag firmly in place with rope. She could feel the coarse material chafing at the sides of her lips.
Her attacker was solid. Large. But he wasn’t young. He was an older man, perhaps she could fight her way free. She had to. She had to try. For Titus. She wouldn’t allow her husband to come home to find that his wife had been violated by another man.
She froze, waiting, and then she slammed her head forward and felt the sickening crunch of bone as her forehead hit him square in the nose. He howled, and blood -his blood- dripped onto her face just before his fist connected with her cheek. Pain bloomed just below her eye, and her attacker snarled at her like a vicious hound.
He dug his teeth into the side of her face before he whispered to her softly. “If you desire to live, let that be the last mistake you make, Julia.”
How did he know her name? Tears burned on her face, hotter on the left side where he’d punched her and she sagged against the bed as straddled her chest. He was so heavy, and she could feel his cock pressing between her breasts and it made her sick to her stomach. He had no right to touch her. She gasped for air as she realized what he was doing. What she was powerless to stop. He was tying her right hand to the bedpost. She whimpered around her gag. He’d said ‘if you desire to live.’ She tried to stop the panic seizing her body. What would be worse for her husband? Finding her alive and slightly damaged, or finding her dead in his bed? She took another breath. She’d been a whore for over half her life. This would not be the first cock she’d taken that she didn’t want. She could survive it. Titus could too.
She surrendered against the bed. She didn’t fight as he restrained her, but she didn’t look at him either. Giving up made her chest ache, and she sobbed around her gag as he rendered her immobile. He stroked her face, right where he’d hit her and she flinched away from him.
She looked up at him, her eyes flat and nearly as dead as she felt. Get it over with.
He laughed as if he could read her mind, and pressed her legs open. She shuddered as she forced her body not to fight him. She’d been trained for this. Lykos and his guards and friends had seen to that. She wanted to gag she she spread her own legs for him. Her body shook violently, her mind screaming her her to stop, as she spread herself wide open for this man.
She did gag as his fingers touched her slit. She was bone dry, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She could think of Titus, but she would not dishonor her husband that way. She would suffer through this. And she would do nothing to ease her own discomfort.
“That’s such a good girl,” he cooed down at her as his fingers tried to press into her cunt. She closed her eyes against the pain and loathing she felt as this stranger’s fingers violated what didn’t belong to him. She didn’t see the next slap coming.