Page 14 of Gladiator's Captive
“You’ve never asked for my name.” She cocked her head to the side but her eyes were still on me, showing no fear. “Why?”
“You’ve never asked for mine, either.” I tensed, meeting her intelligent stare right on. It was so easy to forget who she was, what she was.
“Everyone knows your name!” She chuckled, clearly not understanding what I meant. “You are Rager, the Breath of Death, birthed straight from the underworld.”
She made a wide theatrical gesture, mocking the one her father used to speak to the crowd. Her smile fell as she met my gaze.
“Rager is my slave name. The name given to me when I was captured, after Galactic Empire soldiers killed my father, my mother, my brothers. The Empire took everything from me, even my name.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her face twisted with anguish, and her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know.”
“What is it exactly that you didn’t know?” I took a step closer, engulfing her in thick shadows. Anger grew inside me at the sight of her perfect face, of what I saw in those jewel-colored eyes. Pity. She pitied me and it made me angrier than the sting of the lash. “You didn’t know those poor wretches your father uses in the arena have been stolen from their homes, their families? You’re telling me you didn’t know I was forced to fight or die for all those years?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” Tears overflowed her eyes now, falling down unattended on the silk of her cheeks. I stifled an impulse to grab her and pull her in, lick those tears from her face. Kiss those full lips until they were raw and red. “I knew you didn’t sign up for this. I just didn’t know your story, that’s all.”
I didn’t answer. There was nothing to be said anyway. She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t change what had been done to me, to my family. All she could do was stop looking at me with that expression on her face.
“Don’t pity me.” I spit the words out with the rage of a lifetime. “I forbid you to pity me.”
“If I can’t pity you,” she inched closer to me, so close I could feel the heat coming from her soft woman’s body, “then at least I can call you by your name.”
I studied her face, all soft places and seduction, with her disheveled hair, the way her mouth was slightly too large for her delicate face, the way her lips pouted like they wanted to be kissed. Those small imperfections only made her beauty more striking, more real. Only made her more woman, more desirable.
More dangerous.
“My name is Rager. Any other name I might have had died the day the Muharib lost the war.” I was Rager, the Breath of Death, the living legend, lethal and unfeeling. “That name cannot be spoken ever again, not since the bones of my ancestors were scattered to the wind by your Galactic Empire.”
Hurt spread on her features; guilt, too. She wasn’t responsible for the crimes of the Empire, but her sheltered life had been fed by the suffering of millions.
“Suit yourself.” She tried to hide her disappointment, but didn’t entirely succeed. Her face puckered as she tried to prevent herself from pouting without managing to do it.
I frowned. “Well, tell me your name, then.”
“Why should I?” She flipped her head defiantly up. “If you won’t tell me yours, I’ll keep mine.”
I glared at her, hard, but the only display of fear she showed was the fast way her throat moved as her heart raced. My eyes trailed down to her mouth, her lips partly open, showing the pink of her tongue. There is was again, shining through her eyes, radiating through her skin. That defiance I found as erotic as it was infuriating. My cock stirred under the constraint of my leather pants, and I acted on pure animal instinct.
My hand reached out, fast as in the midst of combat and grabbed a luscious handful of the wild curls at the back of her neck. She resisted the pull of my arm, all woman’s pride and prickly beauty. It only made me want to bend her more to my will, to see her become overwhelmed with lust in spite of herself.
I stepped in her space, my other hand closing around her waist, pulling her pliable body against my hardness. My cock furrowed in the soft skin of her stomach and she let out a small breath. I locked gazes with her as her pupils dilated and she tilted her head back instinctively. The smell of her arousal came to my nostrils, making me furious with lust.
You might not say it, but I know you want me. And Gods forgive me, I want you, too.
I glanced at her mouth, at those full, delectable lips. My hand went to her face, holding her dainty chin with a steel grip. My thumb forced her head up, tilting it until she had no choice but to look at me.
My cock pulsed and ached, the need for her surrender and her flesh like a poison in the air between us. Because she wasn’t backing down. And Gods help me, I wanted her to resist just so I could make her bend, make her surrender and obey. Make her squirm and moan.
I’m a fool. She’s not to be touched.
But still, my thumb trailed all the way to that sumptuous mouth, rubbed over those soft pink lips. A deep shiver traveled up my spine at the contact.
“Tell me your name, woman.” The order was like a lash of the whip and those sky blue eyes shone, brimming with defiance.
“No.” Her answer was just a whisper, nothing more than a breath of wind. I felt her brace herself in my arms, like she meant to resist, to push me away.
My fingers dug deeper in the soft flesh of her back, molding her to my erection. This was a battle, a fight my entire body strove to win.
“I can make you.” My voice was gone, replaced by an animal growl.
