Marc Antony’s Woman: We All Play Games

Marc Antony’s Woman
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- The second half of chapter 20 is done! This covers the diamond scene and an added bit I thought the chapter needed. Just the finale chapter left to cover (though I think that will be 4 chapters) and then I am going to go back and do the earlier chapters, so we can follow Portia as she went from hating Antony to falling in love with him. It’s also a little easier now, because know the ending, I can improvise a little bit more and add little things here and there.  Here, we find them on the edge of everything and I hope I did this chapter justice.
Pairing- Marc Antony/MC
Rating- NSFW
Summary- Antony and Portia attend a play and acknowledge the situation they find themselves in. 

Chapter Thirteen- We All Play Games

The play had already started by the time Antony and I arrived. We drew a few curious looks as we made our way to our seats. Antony rested his hand on my knee casually as we settled in to watch.

“What say the law when ‘tis a king who breaks it?” The lead actor, a man who reminded me more than a little of Brutus, declared, “What justice be for those ground beneath the heels of monarchy?”

“What did we miss?” I whispered, leaning closer to Antony. 

“King Tarquinius’s son was accused of having his way with a noblewoman. When she couldn’t get justice, the heroic Brutus raised an army to overthrow the king and create the republic.”

I rose an eyebrow. “Brutus?”

“Lucius Junius Brutus,” he explained, “Our boy’s seventeenth great-grandfather or thereabouts. Revered founder of the Republic and all it stands for.”

I remembered what Cassius had told me about Brutus, that he was descended from the man who had killed Rome’s last king and he considered the sanctity of the Republic a matter of personal pride. And now he was leaning on it to draw support for our cause. 

“Can ever power not corrupt when one man holds it overall? Must not every man of honor rise against the tyranny of kings?” 

I could hear the sounds of agreement from all around me, could see the men nodding along, clearly swayed by the words being spoken on stage. 

Beside me, Antony looked decidedly less amused. “I see why Caesar sent me.”

I did as well, the play was compelling and it appeared to be doing what Brutus and Cassius wanted it too. What I needed it too. 

Which meant I had to play my role. 

“Antony, why watch this when you can be watching me?” I asked with a pout, placing my hand on his cheek and turning his head to face me. I leaned in closer and brushed my lips lightly against his before trailing my lips over his ear, “I have been dreaming of having you to myself and this is not what I had in mind.”

Antony’s hand moved from my thigh to my waist, moving me closer to him, and I could see the naked desire on his face. “Oh, I could write a play about the things I have dreamed of doing with you…” He told me before his lips met mine again, his tongue parting my lips and sending a flash of heat through my whole body.

Unfortunately, after a moment, he pulled away and straightened, his eyes focused on the stage once more, “but that will have to wait, business first.”

I felt a flash of annoyance, one that had nothing to do with any scheme and was pure feminine irritation at coming second to politics. 

“Go! Tell the men of Rome the time has come to rise!”

Onstage, the actor playing Brutus was joined by a crowd, all preaching the same message, the need to stand up against tyranny.

Antony scowled. “Brutus has always been a pretentious little nipple.”

I fought a laugh at the insult, which was so Antony. “You know that’s not really him down there.”

“But it’s his words in their mouths,” Antony countered, “He’s traded on his ancestry for every office he’s ever held. He would be nothing without that name. And he’s trading on it yet again.”

I could feel the tension in Antony’s body as his leg pressed into mine. I needed to defuse that ease tension, if I could, I smiled, “Perhaps one day the name ‘Antony’ will mean as much.”

It would if I had anything to say about it. I had big plans for Antony, the kind that would have him written in the history books. I thought of his words from earlier, “A son is a son, wherever he is born, or where his mother was born” and I couldn’t help but entertain the dangerous thought that I might one day have other motives for wanting the name Antony to be revered in Rome, besides love and personal ambition. 

My words brought a small smile to Antony’s lips but his attention remained focused on the play.

Onstage, the mob approached the king. “At last! Justice comes for all.”

“So, tell me, are Brutus and Cassius still getting together to whine about tyranny from inside their marble mansions?” He asked me after a moment, his light words at odds with the tension in his body. 

I shrugged lightly. “What would you do in their place?”

Antony laughed, the sound drawing angry looks from the crowd. “Oh, no doubt in their place, I would be as blind as they are,” he admitted, “Though perhaps with a better instinct for self-preservation.”

I had a feeling that his instinct for self-preservation was always well-honed. Once I would have considered that a bad thing, but… It wasn’t Cassius’s noble ideals that had won my heart, was it? At least Antony’s self-preservation also came with self-awareness.

“What is a king but a man who thinks his own worth more than every other? What is a king but a threat to the liberty of all? When once we build our Republic, let us swear to our descendants that nevermore will monarchs claim our name!”

Antony had obviously heard enough, because he rose to his feet, drawing all the eyes in the crowd to him. “Who wrote these lines?” He demanded in a booming voice, loud enough for the entire audience to hear. 

The lead actor looked flustered. “Ah…” His eyes darted around the crowd and then he began to recite his lines as if Antony hadn’t spoken. “Let us promise that no man will set himself above us–”

“Answer me!” Antony demanded.

I stood as well, placing my hand on Antony’s arm to soothe him. “He’s only performing hat he was given.”

Antony ignored me, his attention focused on the actor, though he did nothing to stop my touch, “Who wrote these words? Or shall I assume you thought of them yourself?” 

The actor winced, obviously trying to think of an acceptable answer, “Uh, Antony, domine… I-I don’t know the playwright personally.”

“Perhaps it is not wise to perform plays from unknown sources,” Antony commented, the anger fading from his voice, but the threat still lingering.

I could hear the unhappy murmurs from the crowd around us and I saw several men stand to leave, obviously not wanting to risk Antony’s wrath. 

“Yes, domine,” The actor said meekly. 

“And perhaps consider some creative edits,” Antony added meaningfully, his eyes holding a clear threat even as his mouth slipped into a smile.

The actor swallowed hard, his voice faint as he resumed the play, “Ah… We are… overthrowing King Tarquinius because of, oh, his crimes and corruption. No, because all kings are bad.”

I winced at his awkward recital. He did not deserve to be the target of Antony’s wrath and yet, that was often the case, it was the bystanders who were the targets, not the powerful men making the decisions. 

More of the crowd rose from their seats. 

I turned to Antony. “Perhaps now we can find something better to do?” I asked, taking his hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. “After all, I’d rather watch you than any actor.”

Antony arched an eyebrow, “what makes you think I’m not acting now?”

“And, ah, as we found this Republic, we… ah… hope for the protection of a strong leader who will, ah, lead us for life…”

As the poor actor tried to save his play, Antony drew me into the crowd and towards the exit. “We might as well leave, the show’s lousy anyway.”

“It’s not easy to rewrite the whole thing on the spot, you know,” I chided.

Antony paid no attention to my words though, instead, slowing to listen to the crowds outside the theatre. 

“Too dangerous…” “Never see that to Caesar…”

He listened to the comments with a look of grim satisfaction and a realization hit me. “You were sending a message to the audience, not just shutting down the play.”

Antony grinned at me. “Of course. And to see who was in the audience and who was surprised to see me.”

I didn’t know why I was surprised. I knew Antony, I knew how smart he was, and if I was truly plotting against him, I would have reason to be scared because he would be a powerful enemy. 

“You’re always two steps ahead of where anyone thinks you are,” I mused, earning a smile from him.

“Of course, I am.”  He answered, drawing me closer to his side. “That’s why Ceasar isn’t a king, no matter what associations Brutus makes to ease his conscience. Kings are born to their title, they get complacent and forget to defend it.”

And no one could ever accuse Caesar of that. Or Antony.

“But you’ll defend your power to the death,” I commented. It wasn’t a bad thing or at least it wouldn’t be if I could convince him that he could have that power without being beholden to Caesar. 

Antony grinned as he shrugged his muscular shoulders. “What else is worth defending?”

We crossed the street and Antony glanced at me, “it’s not as if I don’t know Brutus and Cassius are working against  Caesar. I just like to keep on top of how far they’ve gotten.”

My heart jumped into my throat. This was it, a moment of truth. “If you know, why haven’t you stopped them?”

Was it because his loyalty to Caesar was not as infallible as the world believed? Did he know what I was planning? That I wanted to make Rome his for the taking? 

“Because what if the next conspiracy was better? I’d rather keep what I have.” Antony answered, looking at me carefully, “I certainly know you’re conspiring against Caesar, and you know I know it.” There was no hiding the calculation in his eyes as the studied my face. “But as long as neither of us says it, we can keep doing this…”

He drew me to him, his mouth covering mine in a hot, hurried his. His hands traveled down my back, linger over the exposed skin before landing on my hips, pulling me closer to him, so all I could feel was him. I opened my mouth willingly, welcoming him with my lips and tongue. We both had an agender, but this, this was real. 

Antony accepted my passion greedily, his calloused hands cupping my face as he kissed me hard. His lips drifted down the side of my neck. 

“Then the lies we live are better than any truth,” I told him breathlessly, as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my neck. 

Were we living a lie, though? There were lies, certainly, from both of us, but there was also far more truth than I think either of us was truly comfortable with. We knew who the other was, had seen beyond the mask we each wore and still, we kept coming back for more. 

Antony raised his head, his hands still on my waist, our bodies still pressed together, “But is that the truth? Or only what you think I want to hear?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer before his lips were mine again, his kiss demanding, as if he would consume me, the intensity of our passion leaving us both gasping for breath. I could see the passers-by staring at us, though no one dared to comment, and it occurred to me we were on the streets of Rome in the daylight. 

If Antony noticed the spectators, he didn’t seem bothered by it, but he did pull away reluctantly after another quick kiss. “I’m afraid I can’t give you the rest of the day, Portia. Caesar will wish to hear about this before nightfall.”

And just like that, he had switched from passionate lover to calculating politician, though I could see the heat in his eyes, could heart the slightly labored quality of his breathing, evidence that he was not as unaffected as he might wish. 

I knew I would not deter him from his mission, this time, but I was also not ready to part. “Perhaps I can come back after dark?”

“I’ll come to you,” Antony promised, pulling me close to him again for another kiss, “tonight,” he promised before he disappeared into the crowded street. 

I smiled, both from anticipation and from what I considered a successful afternoon. Antony was still working for Caesar, still reporting to him and yet everything had said and hadn’t said gave me hope that if offered an alternative that let him keep his power, he would not stand in the way of our plot. 

**

As promised, Antony arrived at the scholae after nightfall. Unlike past visits, he did not slip in unseen, but greet Lena and shared pleasantries, before claiming my company.

As soon as the door to my chambers closed, I was in his arms, his lips on mine, his hands pulling at the silk of my gown. As I returned his kiss, I tried not to think of the note Syphax had handed me.

The date had been set, in a few days this would be over, the plotting and the scheming, and what would it mean for Antony and I? Would he oppose me in the end or would he see my vision? That this was our chance? 

Still, I couldn’t linger on that thought now, it was still too early, I couldn’t risk it going wrong. I had to catch Antony in the moment and hope that my charms would be enough. But that was then, this was separate. 

There was no secret motive to this coupling, nothing we were hoping to achieve except a desperate need to be one. As my gown fell to the floor, I tugged on the fabric of Antony’s toga until it followed suit, running my hands over the hard muscles that were now exposed.

“This is what I was thinking about all afternoon,” Antony growled as he pushed me against the wall, “the entire time I was with Caesar, all I could think of was being with you again, finishing what we started.”

“Good,” I told him, reaching down between us to stroke his manhood, “I want your thoughts to be with me always.” 

Antony groaned at my touch, his hand sliding between my legs at the same time, testing my wetness and then slipping inside my folds, making me moan. “Is it only my thoughts you want with you always?” Antony asked as he began to move his fingers at just the right speed.

It was a dangerous question. We had always skirted around the idea of the future, talking of our passion for one another, but nothing beyond that. Because Caesar was the obstacle to any future and we both knew it, so to voice thoughts of the future was dangerous indeed and yet… 

“No,” I told him as I arched into his touch, “I want you, Antony, all of you.” 

My words were safe because I could be talking about that moment, about wanting all of him, but we both knew I wasn’t. That I was talking about more than that. I wanted a life with Antony, however that might look. 

“You have me,” Antony promised as he removed his fingers and then lined up our hips, sliding inside of me in one fluid movement. And I knew just like me, he wasn’t talking about this moment. 

He began to move inside me and I met him thrust for thrust, fragile hope building up inside of me  I had him. I was sure of it, the way he touched me, the way he looked at me… He was mine. All of Rome considered him Caesar’s man, but I knew the truth at last… 

The coupling was fast and furious, both of us desperate for one another, pushing each other closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. I wondered if it would always be like this between us? This intense, all-consuming passion? Would Antony always make me burn? I hoped so. 

“Antony!” I cried out as I fell over the edge of pleasure, trying to keep the sound to a minimum, though as far as I knew all the other girls were out on engagement and we were alone in the scholae. “Ohh, Antony!”

“I will never get tired of hearing you cry my name,” Antony declared as he sped up his thrusts, nearing his own climax. His mouth covered mine in a demanding kiss as he spilled himself inside of me, his body pinning me to the wall.

After a moment, he pulled away and swept me into his arms, carrying me into the bed. I knew Antony well enough now to know that this was only the first of many times he would have me that night. That we would explore each other’s bodies over and over until he slipped from my bed just before dawn. 

As he settled me on the bed, his lips finding mine again, a pleasant thought occurred to me. This would be the last time we would have to meet like this because once Caesar was gone… We could have it all, no more clandestine meetings required. He would be mine and I would be his and Rome would be ours.