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Hero’s Prerogative

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“Hold her down,” he instructed the men who surrounded you – after you managed to slap Caius Martius in the face, the sting spreading over those sharp cheekbones.

You hated him.

He was filthy, he was, gross, he was a tool.

Not to mention that he had your sweetheart injured in battle, he gaily laughs in your face bragging about his accomplishments, not to mention how he used to mock your choice of a man – when he doesn’t know anything. But of course it didn’t have to do anything about you yearning to kiss him as a young girl and he a young warrior, and the scorn you probably harbored till now when he chose Virgilia for his wife… No, it doesn’t have to do anything about it at all.

But there was something that made you angry… Something about those treasured scars, those “sacred” injuries… The memory of crusted blood upon his ripped torso, decorating those firm abdominals as it was described by the women who gossiped about how he returned from Corioles… Even though it disgusts you… You couldn’t help but think about the bravado about his air, that mischief in his smile… and not to mention the way he looked in your direction when he walked by…

But the moment he called out in that clear and fluent voice for his men to grab your wrists and pin you down on the table, you were angry… and a little bit more.

You were scared… scared of the way his blue eyes were lit with fire, how he parted his lips glaring at you from head to toe… scared of that power he was emanating as he walked towards you with his shoulders taking up the space, his essence suffocating you, and his chest puffed out proudly despite his ego being slightly crushed with how a woman managed to turn his face with the palm of her hand…

But there was a whole new blaze that filled your chest and spread down to your stomach and in between your legs while his men managed to pin you down on the wooden surface of the table, as you watched him hover above you, almost climbing over the structure, positioning himself above you… as he unbuckled his belt…

“Teach her!”

“How dare she raise a hand on you?”

“Filthy woman, she has no idea what she’s up against –“

“Hush,” Caius Martius addressed the room of men and the few who restrained you. “She should be honored that I chose her among them all for this gesture…”

You wanted to spit at him – but your eyes only widened with surprise when he managed to pull out his cock, standing proud and erect, inches from your face.

“You wouldn’t –“

He suddenly clamped his hands on your mouth, forcing your lips open.

“Such an exquisite beauty who wishes to be heard,” he grows up at you, those blue eyes in flames as he eyed you from head to toe, his eyes quietly lingering at your pert breasts covered by a thin cloth of linen. “But first, you have to chastise yourself with what you did to me –“

You could barely speak with the way he pried your mouth open, those long fingers pressing your cheeks, causing your mouth to form a wide O. You wanted to retort for him to unhand you, you wanted him to just release you, but then… you wanted him to ravish you…

You were not able to say anything at all as you watched him clench his jaw as two other men held your head in place, as he slowly eased the head of his cock between your lips, causing you to shut your eyes – not because of pain but because of shock – as his girth stretched your mouth… sliding down your tongue –

The men cheered as Caius Martius grunted, hilting himself inside of you as he fell to his knees on the table, his legs on either side of your head.

Ugh, he moaned, as you look up at him with your beady eyes, seeing him at a very unflattering angle, despite the man still looking exquisite and like a work of art…

And what scared you was that you were enjoying this kind of roughness

“You like that, my little wench?” Caius Martius grunted as he thrust himself inside your mouth once more, his hips jerking as your lips hit the base of his cock, as you felt yourself making a gagging sound. “I have dreamed of doing this for years on end… a few years after I picked up the sword… And yet you make no retort when I took Virgilia to the altar…”

He began to pull out, filling your mouth with the tang of sweat and salt, completely memorizing the way he tasted as his girth went past your tongue. But you felt your knees buckle when he shoved himself inside of you again, causing you to clench your fists being held down by two of his burly soldiers, as you heard that sound of the man grunting once more.

 “So next time you dare to raise your hand to me,” he said in between moans, that jawline shifting in such a breathtaking manner as he gritted his teeth at you. “Remember the taste of my cock…”

His eyes glinted. “Because I shall be thinking of you whenever my cheeks feel the pang of pain.”

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to scream so loud, moan out his name, scream “Fuck me Coriolanus, please!” as his hips began to jerk in a rigid motion while pulling on your hair tightly with both of his gloved hand, much to the sound of the men cheering and screaming about… as they held you down while he repeatedly thrust his cock inside your mouth, almost making you gag, filling you up and hitting the base of your throat…

Till you felt him shudder, his cock throbbing against your tongue as he burst inside of your mouth.

Panting as he withdrew himself from you, some of his men clapping him on the back, you felt large hands release you as they roughly support your body so that you could sit on the edge of the table. The tenderness Caius Martius showed you by wiping off the juice that dripped on your lips completely took you aback, as you found yourself looking into those blue eyes, hazy with lust.

“I want you here again tomorrow, sundown.” He said roughly. “No more of this men, but they shall make sure you keep me company and adhere to your word. Do you comply?”

You didn’t smile, but you felt your heart pounding in your chest as you looked him in the eye.

“Yes Coriolanus.”