Nothing I Want More
By Misha
Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- This fic is for the lovely wughhumans, whose only request was that I don’t kill anyone. This is actually the first part of “For the Glory of Rome” because I realized I needed to show how they got together, so this takes place several months before “The Choices We Make”. This is canon divergent after chapter 16, I’d actually started this fic after that chapter and then scrapped it and then realized I could just repurpose it and here we are.
Pairing- Marc Antony/MC
Rating- NSFW
Summary- After Antony summons Xanthe, Portia decides to fight for what she wants.
I watched Xanthe saunter out of the scholae, my ears still ringing with her words. Syphax and Father were fighting, how was that possible?
Yet, I knew the answer.
Antony.
He had arranged it. Of course, he had. Punishing me for my ‘betrayal’ or testing me, perhaps. Seeing what move I would make next. Just like I was sure it was by his design, I was equally sure Xanthe had not come across that information by accident.
Before I could stop myself, I slipped out of the scholae. I caught sight of Xanthe at a distance and followed her, keeping to the shadows. I knew Lena would be furious if she found out, after all, what I was doing was against the rules of the scholae. I had no right to interfere with Xanthe when she was on assignment, but I didn’t care.
I needed to know what Antony was up to. No, it was more than that, I admitted. I needed to see Xanthe and Antony, find out why he had called her so late. Had it really been for the reason Xanthe had implied? Was he so desperate for her company?
Antony had been my patron many times, had enjoyed my company, but it had only ever bordered on true passion once. Yet, I’d been convinced he’d felt something more for me. The way he’d look at me sometimes, the little gestures. I thought it had meant I had more of a hold on him than mere desire. Had I been so wrong?
I watched as Xanthe disappeared into a villa, my heart beating wildly. So he had summoned her to his residence. Apparently, he had decided she was more desirable than I was.
I knew I should go. I should turn and go back to the scholae and try to figure out what I would do next, how I would help Father and Syphax, but instead, I pushed closer, desperate for a sight or sound, even though the very thought of Xanthe in Antony’s arms made me want to throw up.
After a moment, unable to hear anything one way or another, I decided that I had already come this far, I had to see it through. I couldn’t go back to the scholae and torture myself, both with thoughts of my father and Syphax and Antony and Xanthe, I needed resolution for at least one problem.
So I knocked on the door, mentally preparing what I would say to whoever opened it, assuming it would be a slave. But it wasn’t. After a moment, Antony opened the door.
“Portia.” There was surprise on his face, but something else, “I don’t remember summoning you.”
“You didn’t,” I answered, meeting his eyes boldly, “I’m here because I want to be.”
Emotion flicked in his eyes, something close to longing and I fought a satisfied smile. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted to pretend. He wanted me. Even if he had summoned Xanthe, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.
“Well, he doesn’t want you,” Xanthe said rudely, glaring at me as she wrapped her arm around Antony’s, “Antony, tell her.”
“Yes, Antony, tell me if you want me to go,” I repeated, looking at him beseechingly, knowing this was the moment of truth. If he sent me away now, if he chose Xanthe over me, then I’d lost him forever.
Antony was quiet for a long moment and then he turned to Xanthe, his face cold as he disentangled himself from her. “Xanthe, you can go, I won’t be needing your services after all.”
Xanthe’s face contorted in rage and disbelief. “What?!” She screeched. “I can’t believe this!” She stalked to the door and then turned back to glare at us both, “you two deserve each other!” She slammed the door on her way out.
“Thank you,” I told him, stepping closer.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warned, “I could still send you away as well.” But despite the threat in his words, I felt secure in the knowledge that he would do no such thing. “Why are you here Portia?”
“Because I want you,” I told him honestly, “because I couldn’t bear the idea of you and Xanthe together.” I wondered when the last time I’d been so honest had been. Probably back in Gaul. But lies and games wouldn’t help me now. My best chance was to tell the truth.
“Good,” Antony told me, “I wanted it to hurt, just like the image of you and Cassius–”
“I wasn’t plotting with him,” I interrupted him, “Xanthe was lying about that.”
“I know,” Antony dismissed, “if you had been, you would never have given me Aquila.” He looked at me carefully. “I know what it must have cost you to give up your revenge like that.”
“I did it for you,” I said honestly, “I was going to kill him, I had the knife in my hand and then all I could think about was you and what you would think, how if I did it, I had no chance of having you believe me, of winning you back.”
Antony was quiet for a moment, studying me and then to my surprise, his hand fastened around my wrist pulling me towards him and his mouth descended on mine. I kissed him back willingly, eagerly.
“You have me,” Antony told me, though he didn’t sound happy about it, “but the question is do I have you?” He looked into my eyes. “You might not have been plotting with Cassius, but you’ve taken him to your bed,” it wasn’t a question, “have you taken him into your heart?”
“No,” I answered without hesitation, “my heart is yours. No one else’s.” I knew Lena would not approve of what I was about to say, for multiple reasons, but I was gambling everything tonight. “I love you.”
A look of raw longing crossed Antony’s face. “I want so badly to believe you,” he admitted, finally releasing my wrist and instead bringing his hand to my face, cupping it with surprising tenderness.
“It’s the truth,” I assured him, gazing up at him. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to hate you. I told myself it was just lust… And then you walked out of the scholae, so angry and I knew I would do anything to have you back and why. I knew I loved you.”
“And that’s why you’re here?” Antony questioned, his voice deceptively soft, dropping his hand, “and not to save your father and your guard?”
For a moment I had forgotten all about Father and Syphax. Of course, Antony would assume that was the reason behind my visit.
“If it had just been about them, I would have waited until morning, I wouldn’t have risked interrupting anything,” I told him honestly, “I came tonight for myself because I couldn’t bear the idea of you and Xanthe together.” I met his eyes. “Am I concerned about my father and Syphax? Of course, I am. But I am not here for them, I am here for us.”
Antony studied me for a moment and then his arms fasted around me, pulling him against him and he was kissing me once more. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured against my lips, his hands running over my curves.
“Of course,” I promised, wrapping my arms around his neck, “there is nothing I want more.”
Antony released me long enough to spin us and pin me against a wall. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, gazing down at me, his eyes dark with need.
“I want you,” I told him honestly, “take me, Antony, make me yours.”
Antony’s mouth was on mine against instantly as his hands tugged at my dress. He pulled away long enough to discard it and his toga. I let my eyes run over his naked form, drinking in every detail. Naked Antony was a spectacular sight.
Antony dropped to his knees in front of me, lifting my leg over his shoulder. I let out a sigh in anticipation, remembering the night at the basilica and how amazing his hands and mouth had felt.
Antony’s lips kissed the inside of my thigh as his fingers traveled higher, teasing my wet heat. He slid a finger inside of me, making me moan, and then added another one as his mouth moved up my thigh and inward, finding my sensitive nub and covering it. He worked me with hands and mouth at the same time, the combination driving me wild.
“Antony!!!” I screamed as the waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm me, glad that he was supporting me because I felt like my legs would give out from the sheer pleasure of his touch.
Antony pulled back, satisfaction evident on his face, but it was mixed with lust and he quickly got to his feet, his arm holding me steady and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him, clinging to him as he entered me in one swift thrust. I wasn’t sure anything had ever felt so good in my life.
It was frantic and rushed, both of us desperate for each other, exchanging frenzied kisses as he moved in and out of me and I arched my hips into hm, meeting him thrust for thrust, eager for everything he could give me. “Antony!” I screamed again as he brought me back to the peak, my hands digging into his shoulders.
“Portia,” he groaned, “oh Portia.” And then just as I fell over the edge, I felt him come with me, filling me with his seed. He collapsed against me, his arm braced on the wall holding us both up, both our bodies slick with sweat. He gave me a long, lazy kiss before he helped me to my feet.
“Should I go now?” I teased, my hand resting on the hard muscles of his chest.
“No,” Antony told me, covering my hand with his, “you aren’t going anywhere.” There was an intensity to his eyes that made me realize he wasn’t just talking about that night.
“I’ll make sure that both your father and Syphax survive,” he said abruptly, “I didn’t set the match, your father’s ludus owner did.” he smiled wryly. “I did make sure you’d hear about it, though.”
To warn me? Or to get me here? In his mercy. Maybe both. Did it really matter?
“Thank you,” I said softly, then paused, “and in return?” Antony was the man I loved and now he was my lover, but I knew him and I knew he’d have a price for this favor.
“It’s very simple,” Antony told me, drawing me back into his arms, “all I want is you.”
“You already have me,” I reminded him with a warm smile.
“Not like this,” Antony corrected, “not one night in my bed and then back to the scholae to take on whatever patrons you please. I want you, Portia, and I won’t share you.”
Maybe his words should have scared or angered me, but instead, they sent a thrill through me. Until that moment I’d had no clue how badly I wanted that. How much I wanted to belong to Antony alone.
“What about Lena?” I asked hesitantly. Lena gave me a fair bit of freedom, but I still belonged to her, to the scholae.
“I’ll take care of Lena,” Antony dismissed, “she will be compensated. Is that a yes?”
I wasn’t even sure what I was agreeing to. How long would he want me? He said Lena would be compensated, but what did he mean by that? Would I no longer be living at the scholae? Yet, I didn’t ask any of those questions, instead, I nodded. “Yes.”
Antony’s eyes lit up in triumph and his mouth claimed me in a fierce, possessive kiss. “Tomorrow you will be at my side at the games,” he promised, “the first man of Rome and his beautiful mistress, a couple to be reckoned with.”
Mistress. I tried the word in my head, finding that I liked the sound of it. There was a power to it, being the mistress of the most powerful man of Rome, but more than that, it marked me as Antony’s woman and there was nothing I wanted more.
- End
