Page 47 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

Maya spreads out the colorful handwoven blanket we brought, the fabric vibrant against the red earth.

We’re both still standing, water sluicing off our bodies, when her gaze pierces me and she whispers, “I’m not ready to leave this place yet. Are you?”

For a brief moment, I forget we’re fugitives, that danger stalks us at every turn. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, time itself seems suspended. I answer her, my voice low and steady. “No. This space seems the perfect place to…” I don’t want to say it out loud, don’t want to pressure her.

“The perfect place to give you pleasure, Damian? The perfect place to show you how important you are to me? To give, expecting nothing in return? Just as you have given to me.”

Maya slowly lowers herself to her knees on the blanket, her gaze never leaving mine. The sight of her kneeling before me, looking at me with that intoxicating blend of affection and raw desire, sends a surge of heat coursing through my body.

She reaches up, her fingers tracing the ridges of my abdomen, following the path of a water droplet as it trails down my skin.

“You’re like a statue,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Carved by the hands of the gods themselves.”

Her words are like a lightning strike to my chest. No woman has looked at me, has touched me, like this.

Reaching down, I cup her cheek in my hand. She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before she looks up at me again, her gaze intense.

“Dominus,” she whispers, the word sending a jolt through me. This is her, giving me power, giving me control. Accentuated by me towering over her in this isolated, sacred place.

I slide my hand into her hair, gripping it, gentle but firm. Her breath hitches, her pupils dilating with desire. I can see the rapid pulsebeat at her throat, matching the pounding of my own.

“Maya,” I murmur, my voice rough with need. “You don’t have to—”

She cuts me off, her voice steady and sure. “I want to, Damian. I want to taste you, to feel you in my mouth, to make you explode in ecstasy.”

Her words send a wave of heat through me. I tighten my grip on her hair, tilting her head back slightly. She gasps, her lips parting, inviting.

Leaning down, I capture her mouth in a fierce kiss. She moans against my lips, her hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer. I can feel her breasts, still wet from the pool, pressing against my legs. The sensation sends another surge of desire through me.

She breaks the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Looking up at me, her eyes are filled with hunger and determination, almost a plea. It’s only after I give her a slight nod that she slowly leans forward, her lips parting as she takes me into her mouth.

The sensation is overwhelming—wet heat enveloping me, her tongue performing a dance of exquisite pleasure. A groan tears from my throat, my head falling back as my fingers tighten in her hair. She takes me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs, her nails leaving small crescents in my flesh that ground me in the moment.

Looking down at her, I watch as she takes me in and out of her mouth, her lips glistening, her gaze locked onto mine. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. I can feel my control slipping.

Her hands explore my body, becoming less controlled, more desperate as she traces the lines of my muscles, the scars that tell stories of battles fought and won. Each touch sets my skin on fire; each movement of her mouth sends waves of pleasure crashing through me.

“Maya,” I groan, my voice hoarse with desire. “You feel so good.”

She hums in response, the vibration sending a shockwave of bliss through me. The sensations are almost too much, the intensity building like a storm ready to break. But I don’t want this to end yet. I want to draw out this moment, to savor every second of her touch, her mouth, and yes, her freely given submission.

I gently guide her head, setting a rhythm that she follows eagerly. Her breath comes in quick gasps through her nose, her gaze never leaving mine. The connection between us is charged, a dance of dominance and submission that feels as natural as breathing.

But as much as I want this to last, I can feel my body reaching its limit. The pressure builds, the heat intensifies, and I know I can’t hold back much longer. I tighten my grip in her hair, a silent warning, and she responds by taking me even deeper, her eyes encouraging me to let go.

“Maya,” I gasp, my body tensing as I reach the edge. She doesn’t pull back, instead, she tightens around me, one hand reaching between my legs to fondle my heavycolei. The sensation is overwhelming, and with a final groan, I let go, my body shuddering with release.

She stays with me, milking me through the peak and back down. For a timeless moment, I’m adrift in sensation—part of me diving into the river of time where past, present, and future flow together, while another part remains acutely aware of Maya’s continued attentions, drawing out each pulse of pleasure until I’m left trembling.

The pleasure bursts through me, part physical, yes, but also emotional because she’s been so generous with what she’s just given me so freely. As my body calms and my breath returns to normal, I’m overwhelmed by the depth of connection we’ve shared—something far beyond mere physical release.

Finally, her mouth softens, her hands gentle as I come back to myself. I release my grip on her hair, stroking her cheek softly, yet still she doesn’t pull back, as though she could stay with my phallus in her mouth until I allow her to move.

My hands roam as I help her up—her body, all silk and softness, curves echoing the beauty of Aphrodite. Each light touch draws a shiver, her breath stalling in response.

“You’re a gift, Maya.” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Maya’s eyes flicker with appreciation as she leans into my touch, her body responding to my praise.

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