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Archive for November, 2012|Monthly archive page

The City War: Final Excerpt, #7

In Uncategorized on November 18, 2012 at 10:00 am

And here’s the last part of the full scene from The City War, my new novella from Riptide Press!

Find previous parts here.

***

“Your new horse-boy. Aristus implied he was offering more than his services as a groom. He’s handsome. Thinking of throwing me over?”

“For a horse-boy?” Brutus laughed. “I think not. I felt bad for him, that’s all. His father fought in the civil war. For the other side,” he added, and nudged Cassius’s thigh with his knee.

Cassius snorted. “You’d have thrown in with Caesar too, if you weren’t so damned ambitious.”

There was something testing in his tone, some question there that Brutus couldn’t name. Different from their usual banter.

He sighed. Cassius would come to it in his own time, he supposed. “It wasn’t ambition. I fought for Pompey because I thought he was best for Rome. So did you.”

Cassius’s eyes were dark. “I fought for Pompey because you did, Marcus.”

“That’s not true,” Brutus said, though he’d worried for some time that it was. “You know we’re responsible for the welfare of Rome.”

“Maybe, but you can’t deny Caesar was more charismatic.”

“But he was attacking Rome. I knew I’d have to defend her from him.”

“Caesar likes you.”

“And he’s Princeps, so I’ll follow him, because I’m better than he was.”

“Yes, you are. If you spoke out more—”

“I’m not interested in being Princeps, Cassius.” Brutus studied him. “Or in buying his mistrust when I’ve done nothing to earn it. You’re not as loyal to him as you could be, you know. Or you don’t come off as loyal as you could, anyway.”

“I’m loyal to you,” Cassius said softly, settling down, voice vibrating against his shoulder. He sounded disappointed.

“I don’t ask for loyalty.”

“You don’t have to.”

It was hard to tell, with Cassius, where speaking stopped and kissing began. He liked to talk into Brutus’s skin, into his mouth. The movements of his lips could sometimes be taken for whispered supplications, words Brutus couldn’t hear. Cassius spoke prayers into his body and he never knew what they were.

Of course, that was the least of what Cassius could do, he thought as the scratch of the other man’s jaw rubbed the sensitive skin above his collarbone, distracting him.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Cassius said, body going lax against his.

“Talk more about what?”

“Nothing. I have to— Nothing we need to talk about tonight. Sleep now. Should I go?”

“There’s no reason. Stay and keep me warm.”

“Well, if the Senator insists.” Cassius’s eyes closed. Brutus watched for a few moments and then relaxed as well, drifting into sleep.

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The City War: Excerpt #6

In Uncategorized on November 17, 2012 at 10:00 am

Things are heating up in this installment of a full scene from The City War, my new novella from Riptide Press!

Find previous parts here.

***

It was better, he thought, when they were face to face. He might have less leverage that way but he could feel the warm press of Cassius’s cock against his stomach, the hot wet rush when he came, the scratch of fingernails along his shoulders. But sometimes this was good too, with Cassius warm and sleepy, willing, his slight movements all Brutus needed as he thrust between his thighs, feeling the head of his erection brush up against the soft skin of Cassius’s balls. Small wonder the Greeks loved this; there was no feeling quite like it in the world. He spread kisses over Cassius’s shoulders, and Cassius reached out to cover his hands where they were braced on the bed, fingers caressing his knuckles.

He felt the low, tight curl of his orgasm building, the urgency of his thrusts grow more frantic. He bit down on Cassius’s shoulder, and when Cassius twisted a little and said, “Marcus,” he pulled back and pressed his cock to the swell of Cassius’s ass, coming all over his back. Cassius chuckled and stretched while Brutus panted through his release.

“Ten stripes for insubordination,” Cassius said, shameless, amused.

“Every time you make that joke and every time it’s still not funny,” Brutus chided, smacking him gently on the curve of one buttock. Cassius tightened the muscles there, propping himself up on his elbows and looking over his shoulder.

“I took a napkin from the table.” Cassius nodded at his tunic and belt lying on the floor. “Do us both a favor and make me presentable.”

“Nothing in the world could make you presentable,” Brutus replied, but he climbed off the bed and found the scrap of linen, wiping him down, a little reluctant to clear away the evidence of what they’d done. Well, he supposed the bluish bruise where he’d bitten him high on the shoulder would suffice.

Cassius saw him staring and touched it with a smile. “We’re not fooling anyone,” he said, turning onto his back as Brutus slid into the blankets. Cassius rolled and curled up around him, legs twined with his, one arm on his chest, looking down into his face.

“Perhaps not fooling, but at least not flaunting. We’re senators and patricians, Cassius. Powerful men.”

“Mmm, so you are.”

“And you.”

Cassius twisted his smile a little. “Well, perhaps.”

“Junia and Porcia don’t care, anyway, and Aristus wouldn’t smear my reputation.” Brutus traced the backs of his fingers down Cassius’s cheek.

“But we have to be discreet.”

“We are discreet. We’re here instead of at home in the city, aren’t we?”

“The servants, though.”

“You say this every time, and nothing ever comes of it. They’re servants, who would listen? Fuck them,” Brutus said, a little more vehemently than he’d intended.

“I wonder if you’d like to.”

Brutus turned to regard him more fully, a question on his face.

The City War: Excerpt #5

In Uncategorized on November 16, 2012 at 10:00 am

Here’s the fifth installment of a full scene from The City War, my new novella from Riptide Press!

Find previous parts here.

***

And he did like it, then and now. He liked the salty warmth of his skin, the thickness of Cassius’s cock in his mouth, and the way he cried out high and soft, one hand curling around the back of Brutus’s neck. His fingernails dug in slightly and Brutus jerked, swallowing convulsively, the motion making Cassius twitch in an aborted thrust. Brutus squeezed his thigh, a warning not to be too rough. He tilted his head for a different angle, and Cassius groaned.

“You’re so good,” he mumbled, head tilting back, the clean line of his jaw sharp in the darkness. “I miss you so much when we’re apart. I think of you when I’m with Junia, I think of you when I’m alone—fuck, Marcus . . .”

Brutus lifted his head, letting Cassius’s slick cock fall from his mouth, letting it lie hard and dark against his belly.

“Do you want it?”

Cassius arched his back, groaning. “Please.”

“It’s filthy,” Brutus said, kissing the sharp line where hip ran into thigh. “It’s improper. Swallowing you like a common street girl. If I do this, will you be good for me, Gaius?”

Cassius twisted again at the use of his given name. “Yes, I promise, I will.”

Brutus licked sharply up his cock, a long wet line from root to tip, and swallowed him again. Cassius grunted, trying to push, and Brutus let him just a little. He worked his tongue around the cock in his mouth, dipped his head to take more of it, then pinned Cassius’s hips tightly as the other man cried out and bucked, coming, forcing Brutus to swallow, the swallows themselves setting off little tremors that made Cassius moan, lying bonelessly in the blankets.

Brutus sat back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and kissed the inside of Cassius’s thigh. Cassius was blissful and limp, laid out just for him, eyes closed and lips parted.

“Gaius,” he said quietly. Cassius twitched, but that was all. Brutus crawled back up his body, kissing him, and Cassius kissed back lazily. Clumsy fingers fumbled their way to the small of his back, clutching the swell of his ass.

“Roll over.” Brutus propped himself up. Cassius stretched and turned unhurriedly, hip brushing against Brutus’s erection, wringing a groan out of him. He’d been hard when Cassius had first settled into his lap, almost unbearably so since then. When Cassius turned onto his stomach and crossed his ankles together, Brutus ran a finger down the line of his ass, dipped it in between his legs, and fought another dizzy rush of arousal. Sweat-damp and relaxed, the channel of his thighs was perfect, warm, and just slick enough to give when he pushed into it. Cassius pushed back a little, tightening his thighs, and Brutus exhaled sharply.

The City War: Excerpt #4

In Uncategorized on November 15, 2012 at 10:00 am

Part four of a complete free scene from The City War, my new novella being published by Riptide Press.

Find previous parts here.

“Aristus doesn’t approve of me, does he?” he asked, as Brutus kissed the scars on his shoulders, moving downward through the sparse hair on his chest to lick at his nipple.

“It doesn’t matter what Aristus thinks,” he said, smoothing his hand over Cassius’s lean stomach, the sword calluses on his palm catching on the smooth skin.

“I doubt that’s true.”

“Aristus would disapprove of any man in your position.”

“But I like this position.”

“Of course you do, hedonist,” Brutus said, laughing into his ribs. He felt his way by touch and taste over the hard bone and muscle, taking his time even though Cassius was panting and twisting, trying to hurry him up. Cassius had never managed the broad, solid boxer’s strength that was so prized in the army; he was thin and quick, sinewy where Brutus was thickly muscled. Almost still boyish, particularly when he moaned softly and whined for his prize like a child.

“Brutus, please.” He drew up his knees and twisted them against Brutus’s waist like a wrestler, trying to pull him farther down.

“Please what, my own?” Brutus pinned down his thighs. His pretty, curving cock was already swollen and hard, warm when Brutus circled his fingers lightly around the base.

“Please, please,” Cassius growled. “Suck me.”

“Aren’t you a poet.” Brutus nuzzled his cock, not quite giving him the satisfaction of his mouth.

Growing up, he’d been taught this was something only whores did; Aristus certainly wouldn’t have allowed it. The first time Cassius had done it to him, the two of them fumbling in a dark tent on the night before a battle, he’d been shocked and so aroused he’d had to muffle his mouth to keep from shouting.

Try it, Cassius had urged. You might like it.

It’s not proper.

Since when have I ever been proper? Cassius had asked, licking his lips, amused. I want your mouth, Marcus, I want to see you look up at me while you’re sucking my cock. I want to run my hands through your pretty gold hair while your wet warm tongue . . .

Brutus had groaned in capitulation, embarrassed at first, but it was hard to be ashamed with Cassius. His pleasure was too genuine, his amusement with proper Marcus Brutus too great to allow much room for propriety or manners.

The City War: Excerpt #3

In Uncategorized on November 14, 2012 at 10:00 am

Another installment of The City War, comin’ atcha! This is part three of six, posting a complete (SEXY) scene from the novella.

You can find previous parts here.

***

There was a fresco on the wall of his bedroom, a painting of Venus Verticordia, the changer of hearts, the punisher of the disobedient and unfaithful—Porcia’s idea of a joke, most likely. At any rate, from the bed, only the curves of her hips and the smooth lines of her arms could be seen. He undressed and lay down, turning away from the fresco, studying the geometric patterns on the other wall.

The door to the cubiculum opened silently, a moving shadow in the shadows. Brutus watched as Cassius stepped inside, leaning one shoulder on the edge of the doorway.

“All quiet?” Brutus asked.

“This making me play at host is a little tiresome,” Cassius replied.

“I thought you were enjoying it.”

“It’s not far from making me play at wife,” Cassius complained, and Brutus sat up and slid to the edge of the bed, grinning.

“And you don’t enjoy that?” he asked as Cassius shut the door and came forward, twining his arms around Brutus’s shoulders. “Serving me? Just a little?”

“Not in public,” he said in his ear, easing his thighs down around Brutus’s, settling their hips together. It rucked up his tunic and Brutus pushed it up further, hands exploring at leisure, pulling away the cloth he wore underneath, tracing skin and muscle they already knew well. There was the scar on Cassius’s belly where he’d nearly died during an early campaign, and there was the long straight line down his thigh where one of Caesar’s men had nicked him during the civil war. On his shoulder, as Brutus pulled the fabric to one side, were two more scars from foreign archers, and on his back, just to the left of his spine, a knot where a horse had kicked him.

Brutus kissed the join of Cassius’s throat and shoulder. Cassius let his head fall back, body supported by the hand Brutus held between his shoulder blades. Brutus eased his arm around a little, pulling at the long tunic, and Cassius ducked out of it, curling in close again. He rolled his hips, a low hmm rumbling in his throat, and Brutus twisted to ease him onto the bed. Cassius slitted his eyes and smiled, seductive, affectionate.

The City War: Excerpt #2

In Uncategorized on November 13, 2012 at 2:01 pm

And here’s today’s excerpt from The City War, available for preorder from Riptide Press!

You can find yesterday’s here — eventually all of them will string together to form a completed scene from the novella.

***

By the time the servants brought in the pig – small but well-cooked, and stuffed with tender laurices and fragrant spices — Brutus saw the horse-boy watching the dancers as well, crouched in a shadow behind a tall window that let the breeze pass from the outer yard into the triclinium. He caught the boy’s dark eyes on the hips and breasts of the girls, and left him alone.

Brutus never overindulged, or at least not to the point some men did. Cassius sometimes did, but he was careful tonight, easy with his wine and delicate with his food. Aristus, by the time the end-of-feast offering to the house gods was complete, looked like he’d rather wander off somewhere to sleep. One of the girls had laid her head in Aristus’s lap, and Brutus knew a few others were licking their chops to try the same with him.

</lj-cut text=”A nice change from the jaded whores in Rome, eh?”>“A nice change from the jaded whores in Rome, eh?” Cassius asked in Greek as a girl settled shyly on the edge of his couch.

“Not much less jaded,” Brutus remarked. There was a laugh from the doorway, and he turned, startled, but the horse-boy had already pulled back into the shadows and could not be seen. The boy’s father must have been wealthy to educate him in Greek.

He turned back to the room to find Aristus with one proprietary hand on the thigh of the girl with her head in his lap, though his eyelids were drooping. Cassius glanced casually at Brutus, who nodded.

“All right, Aristus, off with you,” Cassius said, gesturing for one of the guards to come in. Aristus looked like he was about to object, glancing from Cassius to Brutus, but he was already being walked toward the door. “Take him away, put him to bed. Let the girl go too if he wants her.”

“Sleep well, Aristus,” Brutus called, examining the desserts on the platter the servant had set out. “Partaking?” he asked Cassius.

Cassius tilted his head as a girl with some visible daring sat close to Brutus on his couch.

“Are you?” he asked, and Brutus looked up at the girl, shaking his head. She pouted but slid away.

“No, I’m tired too,” he said. “Your steward’s around here somewhere, isn’t he?”

“Sure.”

“Tell him to pay everyone and have the musicians back here the day after tomorrow. We’ll do a feast for the local gentry.”

“Very well,” Cassius replied, hoisting himself off the couch. Brutus slipped away to his bedroom while Cassius spoke with the steward. He really should be the one, as host, but if Cassius wanted to play at domina here in Brutus’s villa, he wasn’t going to stop him.

The City War: Excerpt #1

In Uncategorized on November 12, 2012 at 12:14 pm

So, I wrote this novella called The City War. It’s an exciting tale of history and sex!

Riptide Press is publishing it as both an ebook and paperback (as a paperback it comes combined with another novella in the Warriors Of Rome series); the ebook comes out November 19th, but you can preorder it any time. As part of the promotional lead-up to the opening sale day, I’ll be posting excerpts from the novella all week.

These pick up where the excerpt on the sales page leaves off, and over the course of the week will compose an entire scene from the story. A SEXY SCENE.

Here’s today’s.
To my dear brother, Marcus Brutus,

I send you all the best greetings and salutations and hope you are well. This letter travels with my husband to the Villa Rustica Bruti, and with it my apologies I could not join him. The house is in a state right now with renovations to the north wing requiring the presence of Domina, so I am bound to stay.

My lord Cassius has news for you and many matters of state to discuss, I know and somewhat fear. I also know that you have fought bravely together in the past and were stronger for the close bonds you formed then. This is not war, but I fear it may be soon. Listen to him, I urge you, no matter what you may think when he first speaks.

I would not interfere, my brother, with the bond you keep with my husband. In all sisterly duty and love, I know now is the time to share him with you, and hope Rome will be the better for it. Look after him at the villa, and for the love of sacred things, look after yourself.

I know how you enjoy his company.

I remain your affectionate sister,

Junia Tertia

Brutus, if he subscribed to any philosophy, was a Platonist, not a Stoic by any means, though more stoic than Cassius by a good deal. Cassius was a strong soldier and an honorable politician, but he loved a rich life more than Brutus, and it showed in his idea of an evening meal among friends. He must have been at the villa rustica at least two days for his cook to prepare a meal so large, and for his servants to round up so much entertainment. It wasn’t unusual, but there seemed to be a sort of fever behind it, and combined with Junia’s cryptic letter, it made Brutus wary.

In the country, there were no comedians or great wits to invite, few musicians and no street entertainers to hire. But Cassius had found (or, more likely, sent servants to find) local girls and boys to dance for them, some with obvious hopes of winning the patronage, however temporary, of a senator come to the country to enjoy himself.

The servants brought in trays of apricots in sweet sauce and lentils imported from Egypt, roasted thrushes, goose livers in garum and oysters in cumin sauce. The men ate while the entertainers danced or sang. There was one young boy with an especially sweet voice, and two of the girls had hips that drew even Brutus’s attention. The guards watched covertly through the doorways.

Cassius occasionally licked sweet apricot sauce off his thumb, glancing at Brutus with lowered eyelids to see if he noticed. Brutus saw that Aristus did, and the older man drank more wine than usual. Brutus just busied himself counteracting the heat of the cumin with bites of honey-soaked melon, and ignored them both as children. He was getting tired of Cassius’s air of mystery.

To be continued…