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Eve of Passion

Novel By: AMS1971

When Eve suddenly finds herself obligated to accompany the champion gladiator, Rhonan, to a celebration, she does not feel the honor that the other women of the town would feel in her place. After awaking from a steamy hot dream of Rhonan, Eve is determined to decline. But when Rhonan receives word that she has backed out, he pays her a personal visit. Swept away by masculine touch and presence, Eve is suddenly too aware of how powerless she is to this gladiator and finds herself both frightened and excited at the prospect of being fully under his control for even just one night. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Dec 7, 2012    Reads: 1,994    Comments: 4    Likes: 8   


Too frightened to do anything but cling to the saddle, Eve hunched over and held on for dear life as the giant horse bolted through the darkness, kicking up plumes of dust behind him. She started to lose her balance and pulled back on the reins by pure accident, sitting back a fraction in the seat of the saddle. The horse instantly slowed to a trot then an urgent walk.

Eve was afraid to move, frightened she might encourage the animal to take off again. But the horse slowed from a fast walk to steady pace. Eve relaxed a bit and adjusted the reins in her hands. It wasn't as if she'd never been on a horse, it had just been a good many years. She tested the reins and tugged back gently. The horse slowed to a crawl, barely moving forward. Tentatively, afraid to urge him too much, she squeezed her legs against his sides with a very slight pressure. The horse's pace quickened just a little, putting him back into a steady walk.

"This isn't so hard." Eve murmured. Her first time on this horse had been a rough, heart stopping ride as Rhonan had galloped them down the stone street. But this was nice. Much more comfortable, and considerably less frightening. Rhonan had been right about the horse obeying gentle commands. It seemed sensitive to the slightest touch.

Eve chanced a light pat on the horse's thick neck. "You're not so big and bad, are you?"

The horse blew air through its nose and bobbed its head. Eve smiled and laughed softly. She leaned forward in the saddle to rub her hand up and down its neck when the horse quickened its pace to a trot. "No. Whoa." Eve sat back again and tugged on the reins. The horse resumed its walk.

The night air was warm and a soft breeze pulled gently at her hair. It was no longer neatly pinned up, having come undone when Nero put her on the bed.

Eve cringed at the memory. Nausea gripped her stomach. He had come so close to...

She forced the thought away. It was over, he had released her. Why? She didn't know, and she didn't care. She just prayed he was never that close to her again.

The horse's heavy hooves thumped against the dirt road. He seemed to know where he was going, although he couldn't possibly. She looked around through the darkness but could see very little. A partial moon barely cast enough light for her to even see the road in front of her. She thought about Rhonan walking back to town on foot. It had surprised and startled her when he'd lifted her up on the horse and told her to take him.

You won't be seeing me again. As per your wishes.

Conflicting emotions whirled and rumbled inside her like a storm brewing. She saw Rhonan's enraged face as he'd dragged her to the carriage, but at the same time she could still feel his hand clamped firmly on her thigh. The conflicting memories clashed and ignited a heat deep between her thighs. She shifted uneasily in the saddle, disturbed by the effect.

She had told him to leave her alone. It was what she wanted. She'd never wanted to have anything to do with the man.

So why was there a hollow ball forming in the center of her chest?


She put the horse up in the old stall across the narrow isle from Dina, the milk cow. Eve spread fresh straw on the stall floor, dumped in a partial flake of hay and removed the horse's tack.

"Sorry. Don't have anything fancy to feed you." She rubbed her hands over the animal's side then paused when she felt dampness on her fingertips. She frowned and looked closer. The lantern hung on the door of the stall and provided only minimal light but it was clear that the skin on the horse's side was partially lacerated and bleeding a little. She recalled how hard Rhonan had been riding the horse when he'd come upon her on the road.

"Your master is a brute." She muttered tightly to the animal. She left the stall and returned with a small container of salve and attended to the horse's minor wounds.

She stepped out of the stall, closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, watching the animal munch on the hay. Fatigue swarmed over her in a sudden wave and she pushed away from the stall. "Have a good night, boy."

The horse raised its head and nickered when she walked away but she was too tired to return and visit with him anymore.

When she entered the house, she half expected Marcus to be waiting up, sitting at the table, ready to grill her on the details of her evening. But the house was silent. A single oil lamp glowed in the center of the table and a low, warm fire burned in the stove. Eve was grateful for the warmth of the house. Though the evening air was relatively warm outside, she'd nonetheless developed a chill on the ride home. Although she wondered if the chill was more of a result from the events of the evening rather than the night air.

Cupping her hand around the chimney of the lamp, she blew out the flame. Darkness dropped like a heavy blanket but Eve knew this house like the back of her hand. She started for her room then changed direction and went to Marcus' door. She knocked light and opened the door a few inches.

"Marcus?" She whispered. "Are you awake?"

No answer. She peered inside. A very faint moonlight silhouetted the figure beneath the blankets. He hadn't waited up for her, and that in itself told her he was still upset with her. She considered waking him and talking it through, but tonight she just didn't have the strength or will for any argument that might arise. She closed the door softly and moved on to her own bedroom.

She was only partially undressed when the shakes hit her, weakening her knees. She sank down on the edge of the bed and hugged herself tightly. A sudden, unexpected sob erupted from her throat, bringing with it a flow of tears. A strange, surreal sensation rushed over her and for a brief moment, she was back on Nero's bed, his hands and mouth violating her body, his raw hunger pressing hard between her legs. Her chest tightened and she tried to breathe but the air wouldn't come as the weight of his body crushed her beneath him.

"No..." She gasped hard and snapped back to reality so suddenly her head spun. She sucked in quick breaths, filling her lungs, tears streaming down her face. Her skin felt filthy and infected, like vile insects were crawling all over her. A strangled sob rose in her throat and she stumbled out of the bedroom and back to the kitchen.

Lighting the lamp with shaking hands, she quickly filled a kettle with water and began heating it on the stove. She stuffed more logs into the stove until it was roaring hot. When the water began to steam, she took it to her room and filled the wash basin, stripped naked and began scrubbing her body erratically with the hot water. Hard sobs fell from her lips as she raked her skin with the wash cloth, turning it red and blotchy. The water scalded her skin but she ignored it and continued to attempt to scrape away the memory of Nero's touch.

When she finally crawled into bed, her skin was stinging and the blankets rubbing against the sensitive surface made it difficult for her to rest comfortably. After many false attempts, she finally fell into a shallow, troubled sleep plagued by disturbing dreams made up of distant, frightening memories.

* * * *

The little girl crawled through the broken section of wood planks and slipped beneath the massive stadium overhead. Her dress snagged on the jagged end of a board and she yanked on it, ripping the fabric but not caring. She worked her way around, over and under the thick beams supporting the stadium seats. The stomping of thousands of feet, shouting voices, thundered all around her but she ignored it as she kept moving forward, tears streaking her dusty face.

She reached the other side and found the small hole her brother had showed her. Kneeling on the dirt, tiny rocks digging into her knees and shins, she pressed her eye close to the hole and began to tremble.

The arena was alive with battle. The gladiator looked like a monster from the stories her brother told her, taller than any man she'd ever seen, thick and muscular. His armor clanked as he moved with surprising agility and grace, his massive sword gleaming as he swung it around, guiding it skillfully to his foe.

The girl's eyes jumped to the man battling the gladiator. He was stout, but not nearly as large as the gladiator or as skillful with a sword. The man stumbled back, barely avoiding the fatal blow of the gladiator's sword. Before he could catch his footing, the gladiator was bearing down on him again, raising his sword and bringing it around in a powerful arc.

A whimper trembled on the girl's lips. Her heart jumped to her throat and up into her head, beating wildly like a humming bird trapped inside her skull.

As the gladiator brought the sword around, he shifted slightly and, rather than slice the man open, hit him in the face with his fist gripping the handle of the sword. The man catapulted backwards, hitting the ground hard, lay unmoving, stunned by the blow. The gladiator approached him and stomped a heavy foot on the man's chest, pinning him to the ground. He pointed his sword down at the fallen man and touched the tip of his blade to his throat.

"No..." The little girl choked softly.

The gladiator raised his free hand to the crowd. The people roared and the little girl clamped her hands over her ears as the thundering overhead intensified. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

The gladiator turned slowly and looked up to a designated area in the stadium and waited. The girl squinted and looked past the warrior. She could barely see the man up in the stadium but she saw his hand as he held his thumb up then suddenly stabbed it downward.

"NO!" The girl screamed and beat at the wooden planks separating her from the arena.

The gladiator look down at the fallen man. A grin twisted the warrior's face as he drove the sword through the man's throat.

Tear flooded the girl's eyes. She clawed the wooden planks, her nails tearing and bleeding. "Daddy!"

* * * *

"Daddy!" Eve bolted forward in bed, gasping, her chest and head pounding. Tears wet her face and streamed from her eyes as she sucked in deep lungfuls of air, hunched over forward. Hard sobs choked her.

An arm went around her suddenly and Eve jumped, crying out softly.

"Easy, sis." Marcus was on the bed beside her, pulling her against him. "It's just me."

A flurry of sobs broke loose and Eve sagged against him, clinging to him. Marcus stroked her hair and held her tight until her sobs subsided a bit, then he sat her up straighter and looked in her face.

"What is it, Eve? What's wrong?"

"The dream." Eve choked out. "I was dreaming about..."

"Father." Marcus nodded slowly. "I thought those dreams stopped."

Eve hugged herself tightly and stared distantly down at the blankets. "Nero was there." She whispered thickly.

Marcus stiffened beside her. "He was where?"

"At the celebration."

Drawing her closer, Marcus pressed his lips to her hair. "I'm so sorry. If I had known he would be there..." He swallowed tightly. "I would have never pushed you to go."

"It isn't your fault." Eve whispered numbly, the night's event flashing through her mind.

Marcus drew back and looked at her again, his face tense. "Did something happen?"

Eve gazed back at him. He didn't need to know the details. He would just blame himself. "No." She said softly, then looked away quickly before he saw she was lying. He always seemed to know. "Just seeing him...I guess it was enough to make the dreams come back."

"And Rhonan?"

This time it was Eve who stiffened. "What about him?"

"How was your evening with him?"

Eve's mind reeled. She closed her eyes and tried to push away every thought of Rhonan. "Uneventful." She said quietly, thickly.

By the weight of Marcus' eyes, Eve sensed he was picking up on the lie. "I'm sorry." He spoke low, sincere. "I shouldn't have pressed you to go with him. I knew how you felt about gladiators and you have every right to feel as you do. I just thought maybe...Rhonan would prove to you they're not all brute beasts."

Scooting down in bed, Eve pulled the covers up over her shoulder and turned her back to Marcus. "I think they are all the same." She whispered, startled by the sudden fresh tears stinging her eyes. "Maybe not on the surface...but deep down."

Marcus squeezed her shoulder with affection. "Maybe one day you'll have cause to believe otherwise, sis."

Eve bit her lower lip and struggled to stifled her sobs as Marcus left the bed and went to the door, slipping quietly out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Eve buried her face in the blankets and cried openly, disturbed and confused by the tears, knowing they weren't all shed for a father she lost so long ago.


Her soft hands were on his body, caressing and exploring, taking their time, being pleasingly thorough. The her warm lips touched him and he flinched, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. She dropped kisses on his skin like droplets of honey, her soft lips gently pressing to his naval, the warm, wet tip of her tongue circling the small hole. Her full, firm breasts hung loosely around his hard cock and he raised his hips just a bit, sliding it through the heated tunnel they created.

As her probing lips moved lower, his breath quickened. It was just a dream, he knew this, but it felt so real he couldn't resist it. He could live in this dream forever, when outside it, cold hard reality waited like a cruel master to strike him in the face and remind him his life was not his own, and Eve...was just a sweet dream that wouldn't come true.

Another groan choked up his throat on the tail of a sob as her silky wet mouth covered the head of his cock and sucked firmly. Her soft hands wrapped around the base of his throbbing dick as her mouth lowered onto his shaft an inch at a time, taking him in easily and eagerly.

Rhonan gripped the bedsheets in tight fistfuls, a sharp gasp escaping him. His hips moved with a will of their own, stroking his cock in and out of her sweet, hot mouth. "Eve..." He groaned out in a tight, longing whisper.

She moaned softly around his cock, the vibration spiraling down to his balls and causing them to ached fiercely. They would have to be emptied before they could fill up anymore, and Eve's mouth was working well towards emptying them.

Rhonan clenched his jaw as a growl squeezed out. Eve sucked his cock up and down, in perfect rhythm to his own stroking, taking his plump cockhead into her tight throat, squeezing him with her whole mouth as she firmly tugged and pulled against his steel hard flesh.

His chest heaving faster and harder, Rhonan clutched the sheets tighter and thrust his cock into her mouth. His balls tightened and began to tingle as his cock swelled in her mouth.

"Fuck!" He gasped out hard. He reached down and grabbed her head as he fucked her mouth, struggling to maintain control and not make it uncomfortable for her - remembering too clearly the scene with Isaac and his wench. But she took his thrusting cock with ease, seeming to enjoy it more as he drew closer and closer to release.

"EVE!" He shouted out suddenly as his cock burst and he ejaculated down her throat.

Rhonan's eyes snapped open, panting hard, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. A sheen of sweat covered his body. He rubbed a shaky hand over his face - then froze. He was awake but he could still fell Eve down between his legs, her warm mouth still sucking his cock. He looked down quickly to find a pair of green eyes gazing up at him from beneath a head of fiery red hair. The woman's mouth gripped his cock and moved up and down his shaft.

"What?!" Rhonan jerked back, shoving her off him. "What the fuck are you doing? Who are you?"

The woman sat up and rested back on her heels. She was naked and very pretty with a lovely body. Rhonan's primal instinct tried to kick in as his already ignited body responded to the sight of her and what she had been doing to him. But images of the dream flashed behind his eyes. His body had responded so completely in the dream because, in the dream, it had been Eve doing these things to him.

"Lord Nero sent me." Her voice was low, soft. Pleasing. "To welcome you."

Rhonan scooted up in bed and covered his lower half with the blanket. He swallowed thickly, his body still craving the ecstasy of his dream. He could take the woman, have his way with her, and who would care? Eve didn't want him. Why shouldn't he satisfy his desires?

As if reading his thoughts, the woman leaned forward onto her hands and knees and crawled towards him. His eyes raked over her curving body, swaying tits. How quickly he could be behind her, gripping her hips, driving his cock into her hot, willing pussy.

Desperation mingled with rage. Why did such a notion fill him with guilt? Make him feel as if he would be betraying Eve? She despised him, had told him to leave her be. Why the hell should it matter who he fucked? His body felt as if it had been set on fire and the willingness in the woman before him only seemed to ignite him more. Not because she was the object of his desire, but because she displayed the eagerness and wanting he longed to see in Eve. Why not let her pleasure him as Eve never would?

"I am your gift." The woman cooed as she slid her hands up Rhonan's legs. His cock jumped and swelled beneath the blanket. He wanted to both pull her to him and thrust her away, the conflicting emotions and desires and needs wrapping around his mind and body like thorny vines, torturing him. "A special gift from your new master."

The woman's words slapped him hard across the face. Rage overrode all other emotions and he grabbed her arms, shoving her away from him, knocking her back on the bed.

"Get out." He growled deeply, his eyes blazing with fury. "Get the fuck out of my room. I don't want anything from Nero. Anything."

Fear darkened the woman's eyes as she grabbed up her clothes and hurried from the room.

Your new master.

Rhonan leaned back and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, released a strangled cry of rage and frustration and left the bed. He stood before a large mirror, his eyes stony as he stared at the seal burned into his arm. He'd sacrificed his freedom for a woman who saw him as little more than a brute beast. Had he thought his sacrifice would mean something to her, prove to her that he wasn't a selfish bastard.

"Just when did you become such a fool?" He muttered to his reflection.

But in all fairness, he realized, she knew nothing of his sacrifice. She didn't know that he had traded his freedom, his very life, in exchange for Nero turning her loose with her virginity in tact - and his solemn word that he would never touch her again.


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