The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 28

CW - NSFW in this chapter.

IXILLIUS LISTENED AS she spoke, absorbing what he could and just making comments as needed to keep her talking. A lot of what she said didn't make any sense, and often she spoke in her other languages, but he kept her talking to him. At the end she was crying so hard he thought she was going to vomit, but eventually the sobs ebbed to leaking tears and hiccups. He couldn't help smiling as he wiped her face on a corner of the blanket, clearing off the tears and snot. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were blotched; then she would hiccup as though she was a small child, exhausted after a tantrum from being dragged around for many hours on Market Day.

        The haunted look was gone from her when he dropped the blanket's corner, the pinching at the edges of her eyes and mouth missing and not missed. She had the same dazed appearance as she'd had yesterday in the bath. The creature that had awoken inside her during the imprisonment and escape was absent again, as when she'd gotten off the cart her first day in Bonna. He kissed away a stray tear, loving just sitting here like this with her, and loathing himself for coveting the moment.

        She had just emptied all of her mind to him. Her body was healed from the hurts she'd had when he first found her. He'd seen her fighting and no longer had the urge to spar with her. If he could ignore the knowledge of her father for the rest of his days, he now had almost everything he'd ached for since first deciding to collar her.

        "Are you hungry?" he asked. A few hours had passed since breakfast, but she just shook her head 'no'. "Do you want to sleep?"

        She shrugged in reply, one shoulder lifting and dropping listlessly, a hiccup in the middle of the motion, strengthening the impression of her being childlike. The thought of her as a child slipped away as he thought of her with a child. He still woke often from a dream that started the week before she'd gone to the midwife. In the dream, he was holding her while his child fed at her breast. If the witch at the village was right, he could have that, too... If he ignored his knowledge of her father. Suddenly, that voluntary ignorance became so easy.

        He pulled off the village garments to cover his grin, the thought of keeping Alex – his Alexandria – was growing in his mind quickly and he wanted to feel her, skin to skin. She loved him. Not even her father could stand in the way of that.

        The arm and shoulder she'd cried on were still wet. Alex was trying to move, but her legs got tangled in the long skirt. He stilled her with a touch and a few words as the tears threatened to come back, nuzzling at her throat as he removed the offending dress to allow her to shift around. She sniffled and hiccupped as he folded and set the dress at the end of the bunk.

        "That's better?" he asked, turning back to cuddle her into his arms again, and she nodded against his chest. "Before the midwife," he said, surprised that he was going to tell her this. "For a week, I had a dream every night so strong of holding you like this that I could feel the weight in my arms after I woke up. In the dream you held our child at your breast, and I held you both. I hated waking."

        Alex's arms slid around his waist and she squeezed tightly.

        "I like that dream," she said quietly.

        "Will you allow the reality to exist for us?" he asked, his hand finding one of her ankles and massaging up to her knee.

        She didn't resist as he pulled off her little bindings and drew her onto his lap, her body yielding against him as he pressed her down to the bedding. Her hands slipped up his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers stroking through his hair as he kissed her, her legs rising on either side of his hips and squeezing as he played at her clit.