The Alpha Emperor’s Resurrection

32: Saga

“Are you sure you want to wear that?”

I ignored Caius’ comment and finished applying my makeup in front of the large bedroom mirror, assuming he was talking about the makeup, and not trying to get me to take off the airy white skater dress that skirted my mid-thighs.

After speaking to Robin, I had finally persuaded Caius to visit Rome with me, and he was nervous about it; we were supposed to be leaving as soon as Robin and Aurelia got back from the doctor. Caius was questioning me because he was nervous about what the doctor would tell them, and in an attempt to hide how uncomfortable the thought of going into the city was making him.

“I know cultural things can be difficult for you to understand, but I stand out enough without this. With makeup and stupid dresses I look like I watch too much anime - if I go out without making an effort I look wrong to humans. They can’t put the way I look down to being a little quirky, and it’s unsettling to them.”

“I didn’t understand most of what you just said,” he approached me cautiously, because I had always chastized him when he was hovering at the door to my room like that before, and it felt like it was somehow crossing a line.

A step closer to me, and further from things being emotionless and uncomplicated; every step had been leading us down that path since the day I tried to embarrass him to get his attention.

Two weeks of spending more time together than apart, and convincing ourselves it was because I was teaching him about the world.

I watched him in the mirror as he moved to stand behind me, and I closed my eyes as he positioned himself so closely behind me that I could feel his warmth; he ran his hands up my thighs until I felt them slipping past the hem of the dress, and my breath caught in my throat as his hands brushed further up.

Everything he was doing felt so intense that I shivered, and he pressed himself against my back, softly. I could feel his heart beating, faster than my own, and he held me against him with one hand at the top of my thigh despite the fact I had melted into him and I doubted I could stand on my own without shaking.

He glanced his other hand up my body over the thin material of the dress, and swept my hair over my shoulder, then pushed one of the thin straps of the dress down so he could trail his hand down from my shoulder and slip it into one of the cups of my bra.

I was already sensitive to his touch when he leaned down to kiss my neck, and moved his hand just a little further up my thigh so that he could push my underwear to the side and tease me with his fingertips.

He kissed my neck softly again, and took a long moment to breathe in my scent because every part of me was yearning for him with an intensity that I had never known before.

“You need to open your eyes,” he whispered against my neck, “because I am about to make you mine, and you are going to watch it happen.”

I had known what he was planning to do from the moment he took the liberty of stepping past the threshold of my door without asking me. He had immediately seen the potential of the mirror, and he had been waiting for the chance to make me watch our reflection as he teased me for a while.

Except, that wasn’t what he had just said to me.

The words that he had brushed so softly against my skin were sincere, and powerful, and as surprising to him as they were to me.

I opened my eyes, and felt him draw a sharp breath, but I didn’t smile; it wasn’t amusing.

Colored contact lenses were another modern marvel he had not been introduced to before seeing the pale silver shade I had chosen to mask my natural eyes with.

“I haven't been dishonest about what I am; this is just another kind of makeup," I knew he didn't think I had been lying, but it was the easiest way of explaining why my eyes were silvery blue. "I didn’t feel like being treated as an anime character today. Looking like an overenthusiastic cosplayer is really my only other option.”

I tried to make light of the situation, as if it would erase the moment that we both knew we couldn’t take back. The moment that had changed everything between us, because he had already claimed me as his own, but neither of us had been willing to acknowledge that.

“I don’t…” he shook his head and stepped away from me, sitting down on my bed and staring blankly at the wall beside the mirror. He couldn’t bring himself to say it - I don’t understand - because he was embarrassed every time I had to explain things like that to him.

“It’s alright,” I turned to face him and smiled, but it did nothing to comfort him, and the visceral reality that we were going to have to talk about that moment, and what it really meant, was still lingering between us. “You know, I am a little envious of all the stupid pop-culture references you haven’t been subjected to. I just meant… I can either look like…” how the hell was I supposed to explain the concept of anime, or kawaii, or Harajuku; I was already going to have to warn my brother not to show him hentai if he brought it up, because teasing Caius like that was really not funny to me anymore. He deserved an explanation for the things he didn’t understand rather than constant and unrelenting mockery for it. “There’s a character in a book; she’s a little strange, and she has white hair and silver eyes. Sometimes people dress up as characters from books they like - kind of like actors, but they are just doing it for fun. Changing the color of my eyes means people assume that’s what I’m doing.”

It was probably for the best that we weren’t going to be going out now, because I had not been thinking when I decided on those particular contact lenses, and I don’t think he would have known how to react when a human inevitably thought it was the pinnacle of comedy to refer to me as Luna... especially now. Because everything my mother had taught me about my ancestors made me sure the word had far more significance for him than it did for me; he was a man who would never use that term for a woman unless that was what she truly was to him, and that wasn’t something I wanted to be.

“I know what a costume is, Saga.”

Of course he did. I just didn’t have any idea about his world beyond what I had read in history books and seen in documentaries, and most of that was probably wildly inaccurate. Ancient Roman costume parties were hardly something I had any reason to think about, but now that I was thinking about them, I guessed that he had probably been to plenty of them with Talia at his side.

“Right…” I cleared my throat, and straightened myself out in the mirror, removing the lenses because there was no chance of us going out now, and because it had probably been traumatic for him to look into my eyes and find they were that artificial shade of silver and not the fiery amber he was familiar with when he had just uttered something so significant.

As I tossed them into the trashcan, I made a note not to order that shade again, and to make sure somebody else warned him that I would occasionally be called Luna by humans because of my unfortunate passing resemblance to the character.

“I think…” he started, but I couldn’t let him continue. Whatever he was going to say would have made it too difficult for me.

“This has gone too far. You belong with Talia; she is still your Mate.”

“You pursued me.”

“And it was fun when it was meaningless, but that isn’t what it is anymore. We can't let this become more than it has been.”

“Saga…”

The way he said my name felt like he was twisting a knife in my heart, and I growled a low, rumbling warning deep in my throat as a threat to him because I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.

His expression hardened, and when he stood up, I was afraid of him for the first time. But the feeling passed as soon as he spoke.

“If you or your brother are still here tomorrow, I will–"

" –you will what?" I laughed. "Caius, you are nothing here. Do you think my brother is going to abandon Aurelia because I bruised your ego? Or that she wouldn't leave with him? You can barely cope with anything outside of mounting me, and you have not even done that adequately, because you have managed to f**k yourself into feeling something for me."

He took a step closer to me, but I didn’t back away, even when he took my jaw in his hand and stared into my eyes.

“It is deeply unfortunate that I didn’t manage to f**k that bratty attitude out of you in the process.”

"Try again," I said, before I growled again. It wasn't a warning this time, it was a challenge, and he was almost panting with the effort it was taking him to ignore it. I decided to repeat myself, in Latin this time, because I knew that he would not be able to tame his instincts if he heard me say it in his tongue. "Try…" I swatted his hand away from my jaw, and clasped his neck, tightly enough that I could feel his pulse surging beneath my fingers, "... again."

I managed not to let my own excitement show, even though I knew exactly where his blood was rushing, and when I dropped my hand from his neck, he shook his head and exhaled a dry laugh.

"You are an infuriating little b***h. But you were blessed with a body that makes your disrespectful, attention seeking behavior tolerable, and the way you smell when I'm done with you is enough to make me want you more than I should. I have no idea what your limits truly are, but you have succeeded in pushing me past mine. If that was your intention, you should get on the bed, present yourself to me in whatever manner you think I will find the most pleasing, and accept that it is going to take significantly more than sucking on my fingers to make it up to me this time."

"We need to use a –"

"–Talia." Hearing her name from his mouth sent a chill through me, but that was entirely the point; mercifully, I wasn't going to have to explain what a safe word was. "I will stop if you say her name, and I expect you to do the same for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whispered, breathlessly.

He raised one of his eyebrows at me, and I nearly whimpered before I remembered what he had asked me to do.

I was supposed to present myself in whatever manner I thought he would find the most pleasing.

I wasn’t sure what he was expecting of me, but I slipped out of the little white skater dress and unhooked my bra before looking to him, hoping he would show me some sign of approval.

He glanced down at my body, seemingly completely unmoved, and I swallowed nervously.

“Should I…?” I ran my fingers across the top edge of the white lace underwear he had moved aside when he was teasing me before, but he gave no indication either way, and I climbed up onto the bed after removing it, hoping that was what he had wanted me to do.

I didn’t know what to do after that, and I ended up sitting in a pose that I knew looked more awkward than alluring when he had probably just wanted me to do anything that would give him easy access to me.

He didn’t move, so I got on my hands and knees facing the mirror; that seemed to be more acceptable to him, because he approached me and sat on the edge of the bed.

We made eye contact in the mirror, and my cheeks burned because his scent was divine, and everything he did was making me want him more. I looked pitiable when he was so disinterested, but I knew he would punish me for it if I tried to look away, and I wanted to please him.

He stroked my back softly and smiled briefly when he noticed me trembling before he tapped my wrist sharply. It was the only indication that he considered my position close to acceptable, except that he wanted me to rest on my forearms rather than my hands.

He left me like that while he removed his clothes, but I didn't dare look up or glance in the mirror.

Part of me was expecting him to leave altogether, but he climbed up onto the bed and positioned himself behind me.

"Face down."

He kept me waiting when I had done as he asked, so I made the effort to push my back down further. I gagged myself with my wrist, because it meant I could ignore the fact that it was immediately uncomfortable to stay that way, and he rested one of his hands on my back and pressed down hard, forcing me to stay in the position despite my discomfort.

“You could have been mine,” he brushed his fingers against me, and I bit my wrist lightly to avoid making any noise. I wanted to feel him inside me, but that was evidently not going to happen.

I wasn't his.

I finally looked back at the mirror, but he was watching what he was doing, and he paid no attention to me, even when I let go of my wrist so I could speak.

"I want to be yours."

He smiled sardonically without looking at me.

"I bet you do." He sounded disinterested as he stared at my p***y, and it was hurtful that he was so composed when I could feel that I was dripping down his fingers. He stopped touching me and looked at his fingers, and the evidence that I was exactly as aroused as he had planned, and I held my breath because I didn't know what to expect. "I seem to be in a rather unenviable position here. I don't want a woman who considers me nothing, but your body is so desperate for me that it is impossible to ignore. What do you suggest I do, canicula?"

He finally looked at me in the mirror, and rested his hands on my hips, ready to pull me back onto him, or to push me away.

"The table…" I glanced at the reflection of the small bedside table, and he reached back to pull open the drawer because he had realized exactly what was in there.

"Is this your idea of an apology?" he flicked open the cap of the small bottle of personal lubricant I had been keeping in that drawer for weeks, and squeezed some of the cold gel onto his fingers. "Or is it a compromise?" He rubbed his fingers against my ass, and then put a little more of it on the palm of his hand. "You should be watching yourself, not me."

I didn't want to look at myself, because I knew I looked pathetic, but I did as I was told.

I expected him to play with me for a while - to take his time, so I would have to watch every second of my own desperation for him - but he held my hips in place and sank into me completely and without hesitation. The way he groaned made me push my hips back to take in everything he had; he swore, and his breathing was fast and shallow. I couldn't stop myself from looking away from my own reflection to see his reaction when I slid forward and then pressed slowly back against him.

He moaned, and I continued to move slowly, and deliberately, as he held my hips so he could control how deep he went.

He couldn't silence himself, and the noises he made every time I took him in were making it nearly impossible to control myself. My eyes must have given away how much I was enjoying his reaction, because he froze for a moment and looked at me.

"Don't you dare say a f*****g word."

I didn't need to say a word; all I needed to do was to roll my hips, and it would make him moan, and he knew that. That's why he flashed me the briefest but most genuine smile when I remained motionless - I was letting him have his fun rather than teasing him for the fact that he clearly appreciated my suggestion.

When he began to move on his own, I shoved my hips against him hard enough to reassure him I didn't expect or need him to be gentle with me, and he took advantage of my entirely unsubtle invitation to punish me for turning him down.

I bit my wrist again to avoid making too much noise, but he thrust into me particularly forcefully and told me he would have gagged me himself if he didn't want to hear me.

There was no chance of him admitting to it, but I was sure that he needed to hear me so he could tell whether I was actually enjoying it, and he took the time to pick up the bottle of lubricant when he noticed that there was increasingly more discomfort than pleasure in my vocalization.

He squeezed it directly on to me, and I tensed at the sensation of the cold gel hitting my body, which was something else he clearly enjoyed, because he drew a sharp breath and slowed down for long enough to regain his composure before he moved again. It was obvious that he was going to c*m soon, but the fact that he was not letting himself push into me as deeply as I wanted was making me desperate, and when I could feel that he was inescapably close, I whispered that I needed all of him.

"You…"he slid slowly deeper and held me against him, and I moaned and pushed back because I could feel him pulsing as he filled me, and I wanted more, "are not an easy woman to remain frustrated with."

He pulled out of me, and told me I should get myself off while he went to wash every trace of my scent from his body, because he didn't feel obliged to make me c*m now that he was finished.

I didn't know whether he would come back after he had showered, but he hadn't even bothered to take his clothes with him, and when he got back to the room, he passed me a glass of water and told me I should rest before he lay down on my bed as if it was his.

I moved to put the half empty glass down a few moments later, but he took it from me and put it on the floor beside the bed, and told me he was not going to leave until I had relaxed for a while.

I sighed and lay down next to him with my head on his chest, as if it wasn't the first time we had spent a moment of quiet intimacy together like this, silently cursing the fact that Caius, of all people, respected the concept of aftercare when I had just wanted him to satisfy my craving for a hate-f**k and leave.

"Do you want children?" he asked casually as he stroked my hair.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"A valid one. Because if you do, and your cold little heart ever deems a man worthy of your affection, I strongly advise you to keep your ass away from him until you have achieved that."

I think he was trying to make me blush, but I laughed and squirmed away from him.

"As if you could have resisted me if I begged you to finish elsewhere."

"Why don't you try begging me to do anything next time I'm in that position and see what happens?"

He picked the glass of water back up to finish it himself, but I froze, and he realized that he had just made the assumption that there would be a next time when we hadn't spoken about that, and we both knew it was not going to end well.

"I guess that explains why you didn't have more children."

He choked on the water, and I pretended I hadn't noticed.

"Talia really isn't into anal. Or she wasn't when I was with her - I assume her tastes are different now. We were told that we would never have a child of our own, but we were lucky enough to have Aurelia. The fact that there were no more has nothing to do with the fact she begrudgingly took a load in her ass every now and then."

I stiffened at his words, because I had not expected him to be so candid with me. I had been joking, and Caius had inadvertently given me an insight into something that had probably caused him and Talia a great deal of anguish when they were young.

I avoided looking into his expressive eyes, and he ran one of his hands through my hair.

“Well…” he kissed me softly and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand before he moved away from me, "...I don't seem to have broken you, despite my best efforts; I don’t think I need to stay here any longer."

"I didn't need you to stay here at all."

He exhaled, apparently fighting back the urge to tell me that he knew that; he had largely been staying with me for his own benefit, and I didn’t need to make him feel bad about that.

"I am grateful that you humored me; it has not made it any easier to accept that our time has come to an end, but as I can't claim you–"

"–you definitely claimed part of me," I laughed. I meant it to sound playful, but it made his blood rush, and he didn't let me carry on that poorly thought-out joke.

"Be very careful what you say next; I am an extremely territorial man. If I can consider any aspect of your body mine, I will make sure you don't forget it."

“Oh?" I giggled as he pulled me on top of him.

"You know… seeing as I claimed your ass so easily, I have every faith in my ability to make the rest of this perfect body mine by the end of the day."

I was still giggling, and I felt Caius harden between my thighs as he massaged one of my breasts and flicked his thumb across my n****e. He was poised to pull me down onto him, but I pressed my hands to his chest and looked him dead in the eyes.

"You wouldn't know what to do with me if I was yours."