“Yet as I stood on the balcony that overlooked the training area of my family’s ludus—the most prestigious of gladiator training schools—my husband by my side, want is what I did. I could see nothing of the mock battle beneath me but him. His sweat, his blood, falling down to the dry dust that ground beneath the worn leather that covered his feet. Never mind that I could never have him. Dreams of what his touch could bring me only increased the need that thrummed through my veins like flocking b...irds. “You’re quite flushed, Alba.” Lucius, my husband, touched a hand to my elbow and peered into my face with concern. “We should retire inside. Drusilla will draw a bath for you.” A bath . . . clear cool water, the thick silk of oils that smelled like herbs. The slither of limbs through water, and the sheen of dampness on muscles taut from incessant training. “Come.” I could hear the alarm in Lucius’ voice, though it was my slave girl, Drusilla, who moved to support me, not my husband.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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