Page 35 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

She whines and thrashes as her walls flex against me in a powerful rhythm. Instead ofDominusorVictor, she shouts my true name, which gives me almost as much pleasure as I’m giving her.

My releases are pitiful things compared to hers as it waxes and wanes, building and releasing. I wonder if it could go on forever. When she finally relaxes her tight hold on me, it seems she’s simply too tired to keep feeling so much bliss.

She pulls me up to lie with her side by side as she presses her palms to my cheeks and looks at me as though she’s never seen me before.

Her words bear that out when she says, “I don’t know who I am anymore…Domina, slave, daughter, lover…” Her gaze flits wildly around the room as though she’s looking for answers on the walls or ceiling. “I just know…”

She pauses for so long I lift on an elbow to see if that powerful release put her to sleep, but her eyes are wide open, her brow furrowed as she wrestles with a thought.

“I just know that all the roles I’ve ever played are just that—roles. I’m…” Another very long pause. “Me. I’m me, Damian. And you’re you. And it’s so fucking clear—that’s the only important thing. It’s the only important thing on Earth for the last two thousand years.”

She throws her arms around me and squeezes me so tightly I realize it’s only now I’m seeing her full strength and power.

“My father, with all his education and knowledge, never put anything as eloquently as that, Maya. You’re right. I’m me and you’re you and it doesn’t matter about Tony or the pharma people or whoever else wants to find and control and hurt us. We have each other.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Maya

Sleep claimed me quickly after the most intense release of my life, but now, as I wake before dawn, guilt niggles at me. Damian gave me earth-shattering bliss—twice—but took none for himself. When I tried to reciprocate, he simply gathered me close and pressed soft kisses to my temple until I drifted off.

The intimacy we shared transcended physical pleasure. Something profound shifted between us—a deepening of trust, of understanding. Though neither of us spoke the words, the tender way he held me, the gentle kisses he pressed to my face, said more than declarations could.

Now he sleeps peacefully beside me, one arm curved protectively around my waist. In sleep, the warrior’s mask slips, revealing the gentle philosopher beneath. My fingers itch to trace the strong line of his jaw, but I let him rest. We have a challenging day ahead.

The gym opens in two hours. Tony’s men will arrive for their morning check-in, and we’ll have to maintain our careful pretense. But something has changed. The lies between us have crumbled, replaced by a bond that feels unshakeable.

My phone buzzes—another message from Dad. I silence it without looking. For once, his problems can wait. Right now, watching Damian’s chest rise and fall with each steady breath, I allow myself to simply exist in this moment.

His eyes flutter open, instantly alert. A warrior’s training never truly fades. But when he sees me, his gaze softens with an emotion that makes my heart skip.

“Good morning,” I whisper. Can he see the fullness of my affection beaming out of my eyes?

He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that sends shivers down my spine. “Immo vero.”

I may not know the meaning of his words, but the look on his face needs no translation.

The sound of a car door slamming shatters our peaceful bubble—Tony’s men, earlier than usual. Reality crashes back as we spring apart, falling into our assigned roles with practiced ease.

But something has changed. After pulling on clothes, I hurry downstairs to meet Marco. Damian’s tender gaze follows me as he leans casually against the doorjamb. I’ve never seen him this relaxed. We may still be playing parts for the outside world, but between us, truth has finally won out over pretense.

The morning unfolds like any other—fighters arriving for training, the rhythm of bags being hit, the squeak of shoes on mats. But underneath it all runs a current of anticipation. The tournament draws closer, and with it, our chance for freedom.

All last night, in between staring at the beautiful man who shared my bed, I planned our escape. Many ideas came to mind and were discarded. But one stood out. The best time for us to bolt for freedom might be in the chaos of the fight—especially if Laura can get the other gladiators here. Who better to rescue us than a band of brothers who love Damian, and who were born and bred to fight?

I catch Damian watching me as I work with other fighters. His expression remains carefully neutral, but I see the way his hands flex when anyone gets too close to me during demonstrations. The possessive gleam in his eyes makes heat pool low in my belly. Who knew I’d be such a sucker for jealousy?

“Five rounds on the heavy bag,” I tell my morning class, keeping my voice steady despite the awareness thrumming between Damian and me. “Keep your footwork sharp.”

As the sound of fists meeting leather fills the gym, I allow myself one glance at him. He’s moving through his warm-up routine with lethal elegance, each motion precise and controlled. Just like last night, when he… Heat flares as my breath stutters with awareness.

No. I can’t think about that now. Not with Tony’s men watching, not with a gym full of fighters who depend on me to keep this place running. We have too much at stake to let desire cloud our judgment.

But later, when we’re alone… Later, I’ll show him exactly how much last night meant to me. How muchhemeans to me.

The morning sun streams through the gym’s windows, painting even the farthest recesses in golden hues. Watching Damian move through his exercises, I realize something profound. Two thousand years of frozen sleep brought him to this moment, to me. Whatever powers guided him here—fate, his Goddess Tyche, or simple chance—I silently thank them all.

He catches my eye across the gym and gives me that ghost of a smile that makes my heart flutter. Yes, we still have battles ahead. But now we fight them together, bound by something stronger than duty or obligation.

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