©2002 by WILDBEARIES

This story is based on characters created in the film, "Gladiator" and in no way intended to infringe upon those characters or the story of that film. References to real people are strictly the product of the writer's imagination and meant to entertain the reader.
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“You’re what?” Maximus gazed at his wife in some consternation. “After all our discussions, after I begged you not to do this, you’ve gone ahead and done what you pleased anyway?”

Ana smiled up at her husband as he raked his hands through his hair, which was no longer cropped as short as when he was in the army, but which curled and waved around his face, ears and neck. “Maximus, I told you, I saw our child plainly in my dreams - there was no way I could not conceive him.”

He resisted the urge to groan in impatience. If there was one thing he knew about his wife after all their time together, it was that she was absolutely convinced of the power of her dreams. And really, who was he to argue with her when she’d been proved right time and time again? “I just worry about you, cara, you’re not - and I really hesitate to say this to you - you’re not twenty any more.”

She gave him an annoyed glance, “Well, I do know that, I’m not an idiot.” She softened her tone by touching his hand, still marveling at how small her hand looked up against his much larger one. “Please - understand that I had to do this. He’s meant to be, Maximus - meant for us now, in this time. He has to come and fulfill his destiny and make our destinies complete.”

A shiver worked its way down his spine and even though he wanted to resist the siren call of her blue eyes gazing up into his, he could not do it. He was, really, her slave. He had accepted that long ago, and struggle as he might to argue with that premise, he knew it was futile. “Ana, if you become ill from this or, the gods forbid, die, I will never speak to you again.”

A giggle escaped her at this illogic coming from her most logical husband. “If I die, I promise, I will not reproach you for being correct about this.”

He snorted, and shortly laughed aloud, shaking his head at her. He drew her onto his lap, much to the amusement of some of the farm workers who were clearing weeds from her flower beds so she could do her spring planting. Maximus cast an annoyed look in their general direction, “Is nothing else of interest taking place today?” Several of the workers suddenly found a pressing need to be elsewhere, leaving the master and mistress chuckling.

“How far along, do you know? Stupid question, of course you do.”

“About two months. Remember that night on the front portico when I came out and, um, sat on your lap?”

He remembered it quite clearly. He also clearly remembered that he had checked to see that her vinegar soaked sponge was in place. “Ana - you had the sponge in that night - I felt it.”

She bit her lip. Now was when she had to admit that she’d cheated, in a way. “I did, but it was only moistened with water.” Her eyes downcast, she felt him shake her and glanced up. Gods, he was furious! She should have claimed ignorance of how she got in the family way, claimed the vinegar must have been spoiled, diluted - somehow tainted, perhaps. “Maximus - don’t be angry, please.”

It was too late for that. He set her on her feet and got up to pace back and forth. “You deliberately deceived me - accidentally getting pregnant is one thing, Ana, but lying to me about using your precautions is another thing altogether.”

She had been afraid he would react in just this way. She had agonized over telling him about the pregnancy simply because of how she knew he would respond to the news she had tricked him. “I am sorry,” she said. She was, but wasn’t sorry enough to regret the conception that was the result of her trickery. She said as much.

Maximus stopped pacing and whirled on her, brows drawn down over furious eyes. “You are determined to have your own way by whatever means it takes, are you not?”

She nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling. He was so handsome with his flashing eyes, the red wool tunic belted around his still muscular body. “I am,” she admitted. His wolf’s head signet ring caught her eye. “He will wear that ring and achieve great honors,” she said, somewhat dreamily.

Maximus gazed down at his hand in confusion, then realized she meant the Wolf’s Bane ring. “Only when I’m dead,” he said flatly.

She gasped and looked up into his face, “No - his own ring, not yours, you will not die for years and years, my darling man - I’ve told you that.”

He grasped her by her upper arms and shook her slightly, “Ana, what good is it for me to live for years and years if you won’t be there with me? Do you think I could bear to be alone, to be without you?” He was quite familiar with the pain of losing a wife - even though that was years in the past and he was happy in his present life, he would never forget the tearing grief of finding Selene and their son Marcus burnt and twisted in the ruins of this very villa. He could suddenly remember that day vividly, even smell the horrible scent of burning and ruin. He dropped his hands and turned away from her, willing the vision to recede.

Ana touched his arm and he turned into her embrace, hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe. She burrowed into the soft fabric of his tunic, inhaling the herbs from his bath that morning. Gods, but she loved him! She blessed the day he’d been carried into the camp of Felix III, nearly dead, blue with cold and blood loss, and put into her care. Well, her father’s care, really, but he’d ended up in her care and she had saved his life. She tipped her head up to meet his sea green gaze, “Kiss me,” she whispered.

His mouth came down over hers, tongue sliding inside to play with her tongue. She felt his arousal against her body and moaned softly, finding him with greedy hands despite the layers of clothing he wore. She was trembling with lust so quickly she marveled at herself. Maximus lifted his face from hers, one eyebrow quirked, “You covetous little wench,” he teased her in a throaty voice that told her he was far gone in lust himself. He glanced around, picked her up and took her indoors.

The nearest place they could have privacy was his office, so he strode in there with her. The staff members busy cleaning turned to one another with knowing grins once they had passed. He kicked the door shut behind them and they were alone. They tore at each other’s clothing, ripping buckles open, rucking up tunics and yanking down trousers, until finally, they could get at one another and accomplish the joining. He cleared off his worktable, dumping scrolls, styli and papyri onto the floor and put her on top of the smooth oak surface, sliding her so her hips were right at the edge of the table. He stepped between her parted thighs and thrust into her with a deep groan, marveling at the heat inside her, and how her inner muscles grabbed onto his shaft as he moved it inside her.

He pumped his hips rapidly, her legs closed tightly around him. It was so good, so good. He grunted each time he hilted himself. Ana met his every thrust, grinding against him to stimulate every part of her sex. “Now,” he said hoarsely, and rammed deep into her, pouring his heated seed into her, his whole body rigid as he held still within her. She convulsed around him and clawed his back, crying out in a raw little voice that told him she was in extremis with her climax. “Gods,” he managed, and relaxed against her. The table was hard, though, so he simply picked her up and walked them over to the old camp bed that he kept set up in there. He sank onto it, wishing to stay joined with her, but feeling himself softening and sliding out. He kissed her hot face and they smiled at one another. “Cara, that was shockingly good.”

She giggled. “I’m sure all the servants heard every creak of that table and every moan out of our mouths.”

“They had best be working when I open that door,” Maximus responded. He lay back on the bed with her, cuddling her against him while she worked the buckles of his trousers all the way open and pulled the drawers down. “What are you about, cara?” he asked, although he knew full well what when she took his shaft in her warm little hands and licked her lips, she was going to. . . “Gods!” he exclaimed as her mouth closed around him. He panted. She licked and suckled him, her large eyes fixed on his as she pleasured him. “Ana, Ana, Ana,” he moaned. “It’s too soon - I can’t - oh, love, yes - that’s the way.” She chuckled at his disjointed speech and silenced him when she took him so deeply into her throat that he was almost swallowed up. He shouted out in pleasure and flung his seed down her throat in a torrent.

After twice climaxing in such a short period of time, Maximus lay sprawled on the camp bed, his tunic up around his waist, the red wool drawers in a heap on the floor, and a big smile on his face. Sleepy-eyed, he played with her hair while she rested with her head on his belly. She breathed a puff of warm breath onto his cock, causing him to glance down suspiciously. “Tell me you aren’t planning what I think you’re - Gods, Ana!” His startled exclamation came because she lifted his shaft and began stroking it with encircling fingers, pulling back the foreskin and exposing the sensitive head to the tip of her tormenting little tongue. He was soon panting again, but she didn’t let him off so easily this time, she took a long time torturing him first. Long, slow laps of her tongue, deep suckling that took most of him into her mouth before she’d go back to the licking with just her tongue tip, tickling and teasing him with it. She’d try to force her tongue into the opening that already wept his hot essence, making him jerk in ecstatic response, making him groan and gasp and beg her to finish him off. “Please, cara . . .”

Ana let go of him and sat up, grinning wickedly. “Yes, darling?” She stretched, throwing her full bosom into stark relief against the thin fabric of her stola. For good measure, she cupped her breasts in her hands, lifting them, offering them to his heated gaze. “Already growing,” she said huskily.

Maximus grabbed her. She laughed, but let him pull the stola off her and fling it away. He then lifted her so she was seated astride his hips, picked her up and brought her down onto his hard shaft. “Oh, yes,” she breathed, and proceeded to ride him. It took forever, because he was already tired from the two previous encounters, but she loved it that way because she could take her pleasure over and over. He held onto her, and when she felt his hands tremble from fatigue and thwarted release, she reached down and dug her nails into his inner thighs before squeezing his testicles mercilessly. He shouted out harshly and began spurting up into her in fiery gouts. She climaxed one last time and then just rested against him as they panted. When she felt his big hand stroking up and down her back she raised her head and kissed him gently. “My warrior,” she whispered.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, resting his forehead against her shoulder for a moment. “Cara, I need to rest now or you might just possibly kill me.” He gave her a sated smile and she climbed off him, unable to resist giving his softening shaft a loving pat as she did so. “No - no more,” he said firmly, but his smile took the sting out of it. He yawned and lay back. “Gods, I’m exhausted now.”

“Poor old man,” she teased, and straightened his wrinkled tunic, pulling it down so he was decently covered. She lifted a light sheet up to his waist, took each of his hands and kissed them before placing them on top of the sheet, and made sure his pillow was adjusted properly. He was already sleeping, long dark lashes shadowing his cheekbones. She leaned down and kissed his eyelids. He barely stirred and she shook her head, amused. How was it, she wondered, that sex invigorated her while it wore him out? “Sleep, dearest,” she murmured, put her clothing back on, and quietly left his office, shutting the door behind her.

Gemma’s daughter Marcella, now her head housekeeper, was the only one in the atrium. Ana put her finger to her lips and whispered, “He’s sleeping, don’t let anyone disturb him.” The two women exchanged smiles of superior feminine knowledge, and went their separate ways, Ana to bathe and change clothes, Marcella to warn the other staff to leave the general alone and stay out of his office.

Maximus awoke a couple of hours later and dressed, feeling somewhat creaky and sore from the exertions of earlier in the day. He grinned wryly at himself; once he wouldn’t have even noticed anything beyond the pleasure of it. He shrugged at his reflection in the polished steel mirror, sighed a bit and went to saddle his favorite horse, a grandson of the late, much lamented Scarto. This one was called Leo because he was born under the sign of the Lion, and because his tawny color reminded Maximus of those fierce beasts. The stallion nickered loudly on hearing Maximus’ voice, and began kicking the stable wall impatiently. “Stop that at once,” he ordered the restive horse. Leo snorted and shook his head, but his intelligent gaze never left his master’s face. He stood still and allowed himself to be bridled, saddled and mounted.

“Nobody but you can ride him, sir,” the head groom said, one of the many times he’d commented on that very subject.

“Just as well,” Maximus replied, “I’d hate to have his spirit broken by some ham-handed fool. I’ll be awhile, I’m riding over to check on the Augusta’s villa.” Lucilla, referred to still by the old title from years before, was in Emerita with her husband. Maximus had promised to ride over several times a week to check that her staff was having no problems running the estate in her absence. He didn’t mind this as it gave him a good excuse for a ride, which he loved, long-time cavalryman that he was.

He spurred Leo forward and set off at a fast canter down the approach road, then onto the regular road that led eventually to the other farm. He relished these rides. He felt he spent too much time indoors these days handling the accounts, sorting out problems, arranging shipments of the farm’s produce - garum, olives, olive oil, fruit and vegetables. He also bred and sold horses to the army as well as to private customers. This necessitated training, which he loved doing. He resented it when duties kept him from that, but resolved now to delegate some of the tasks that bogged him down to someone else so he could do what he loved most and what he felt he really excelled at. He smiled and patted the horse’s neck joyfully. What a day it was turning out to be!

He spent several hours with the steward of the other estate going over their work, then headed for home in the early dusk. By the time he reached the hill top from which he had a perfect view of his house, it was full dark. He pulled Leo up and sat gazing down on the lights shining from the windows. He loved his home, had totally gotten over the fears and anxieties that had worried him when he’d first come back to it after - well, after everything that had happened. He no longer felt haunted by Selene or Marcus, and their graves no longer reproached him as they once had. He supposed he was finally settled. He laughed to himself. Almost nineteen years since the old emperor’s murder and he was finally settled. “Idiot,” he titled himself, and rode down the hill and home.

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Copyright 2002 by wildbearies

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