Only You

Only You
By Misha
Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- I am 90% sure we are getting out long-awaited Antony scene tomorrow (I may cry if we do not) and in anticipation, this is how I would like it to go. This is Antony and Portia at their sweetest because the last chapter awakened all these new possibilities for me. This takes place immediately after the end of Chapter 15.
Pairing- Antony/MC
Rating- NSFW
Summary- After their falling out, Antony and Portia reunite and take their relationship to the next step.
Words- 1587

When Syphax’s battle was over, thankfully both competitors kept their lives, I returned my attention to Antony.

To my relief, he looked bored silly with Xanthe. He glanced at me and I smiled at him, blowing him another kiss. I continued to focus on him through the rest of the afternoon, letting him see my adoration, the fact that I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

I knew Lena would be disappointed that Cassius had left me to go to the games on my own, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure jealousy was the way to go this time. Antony’s pride was hurt, he didn’t need to question my loyalties further and wonder if I really wanted to be with Cassius/ No he needed to see that it was all about him. That he was the only one I wanted.

And he was. As soon as Antony had left the scholae, so angry, it had hit me just how much I cared. I’d told Lena I wanted him back and it was the truth. But not just his patronage. I wanted him.

When the games ended, I lingered, unsurprised when Antony abandoned Xanthe and found me. “I’m surprised to see you here alone,” he commented, his eyes running up and down my body with undisguised want.

“Well, the man I want took someone else,” I told him softly, letting him see my vulnerability. I reached for him, placing my hand on his face. “Did you enjoy Xanthe’s company?” I didn’t hide the jealousy in my voice as I twisted my features into a slight pout.

“Not as much as I would have enjoyed yours,” he admitted, his hand resting on my back, pulling me closer to him. “Come with me,” Antony urged, gazing down at me, his eyes dark with need. “I want to get out of here.”

“What about Xanthe?” I asked, tossing my head in the direction of Antony’s box where Xanthe still waited, glaring daggers at me.

“She can find her own way home,” Antony commented with cold disregard and then his expression softened. “I don’t want to talk about Xanthe.”

Neither did I. Except… “You used her to hurt me,” I reminded him, uncaring that we were still surrounded by people. All I cared about was Antony. Besides, I was sure we made a very romantic picture, wrapped in each other’s arms like this.

“And were you hurt?” Antony asked, looking into my face carefully, his dark eyes searching mine.

“Yes,” I admitted freely, knowing that it was what he needed to hear.

Antony seemed pleased by the admission and he held me even closer for a moment. “Come with me,” he asked again.

This time, I nodded. “Yes.”

Antony released me, but his eyes stayed on me. He never even glanced back at Xanthe as he led me out of the arena, but I did. I met her glare with a smirk before tucking myself into Antony’s side. She might have been the one on Antony’s arm today, but I was the one who had his attention and I never intended to lose it again.

Antony quickly found us a litter and helped me into it, pulling me against his side. I settled there happily, resting my head against his chest.

“I missed you,” I confessed, gazing up at him. “All through the games, I’d wished we could be like this.” I’d wanted to be at his side. Antony reveled in being the spotlight and I liked sharing that with him. The only thing that had soothed me was that his attention had been on me, not Xanthe.

I moved my hands to his shoulders, caressing them lightly, “You seemed so tense, I could have helped with that.” I shifted, climbing onto his lap, his hands going instinctively to my waist.

“Portia,” he groaned, pulling me closer to him, close enough that I could feel the effect I had on him.

“I’m surprised Xanthe didn’t offer to relieve your tension,” I teased, unable to keep the hint of jealousy from my voice.

“She did, I wasn’t interested,” Antony told me, “Xanthe’s not the one I want.”

“Yet she’s the one you chose,” I reminded him, moving to get off his lap but his hands tightened, keeping me in place.

“You know why,” he growled.

I did. Because he had been hurt and he had wanted to hurt me in return. I would never get an apology, I knew that. It wasn’t in Antony’s nature. I didn’t need one, I just needed him to acknowledge that I was the one he wanted.

Before I could respond, the litter came to a stop outside Antony’s villa. He got out and then lifted me out.

As soon as we were inside the villa, I was in his arms, his lips crashing against mine, his body pushing me up against the wall. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” he growled against my lips.

“What took you so long?” I questioned, trying not to gasp as his lips trailed lower, sucking and biting on my skin. It was something I’d wondered about. He’d sought my company, taken moments of physical affection but only once had he ever made any move towards real passion.

Antony pulled back and looked into my eyes. “I wanted you to come to me.” His jaw tensed at the admission and I wondered if he saw it as a sign of weakness. I didn’t capitalize on it. Instead, I placed my hand on his jaw pulling his mouth down to mine and kissing him, letting him feel my surrender.

Antony’s hands pulled at my gown, sliding it off my shoulders and down my body, his lips and hands exploring every bit of exposed flesh. “No woman in Rome or Gaul can compare to you,” Antony told me, as he knelt before me, lifting my leg over his shoulder and pulling me closer to him, my back still pressed up against the wall.

I shivered, remembering the night in the Basilica and how it had felt before we’d been interrupted. How his hands and lips had felt, how badly I’d wanted him to finish what he’d started. Apparently, my wish was about to be granted. Antony kissed the inside of my thigh as his fingers stroked my center, which was already soaked from wanting him.

He hummed his satisfaction against my skin as his fingers slid inside of me. I let out a little moan and pulled his head closer with my hands as his lips covered my sensitive nub, which just made me moan louder.

“Antony,” I whimpered as he continued to pleasure me with his lips and tongue. It felt as good as I remembered. Better. This time there was no interrupted, there was just Antony and the rhythm created by his fingers sliding in and out of me, curling just so, as his tongue hit just the right spot. “Oh!!! Antony!!!”

I clung to him as I came apart, glad that my leg was supported by his shoulder because I was sure that they wouldn’t be able to hold me up. I leaned against the marble, waiting to come down, but Antony didn’t give me the chance.

Keeping me supported with one hand, he quickly lowered my leg and stood. He stripped off his toga with his record speed and tossing it carelessly to the side and then he was lifting me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at my entrance. “Oh, yes,” I groaned in encouragement as he slid inside of me.

“You feel just like I knew you would,” he told me as he began to thurst, “as if you were meant for me. So tight, so perfect.”

It felt like I’d been meant for him. Like no other man had ever existed. The only that mattered was Antony.

His lips found mine again, his tongue seeking entrance into my mouth as he thrust in and out of me at a pace that had me gasping and desperate for more. I wanted everything he could give me. I don’t know how long we moved together, it felt like an eternity but also like a single moment, until the passion grew too much and I came again, digging my fingers into his shoulders as I did.

“Portia,” Antony groaned, his body shuddering against mine, his climax obviously close.

“You feel so good,” I encouraged, arching into him, “I knew you would. I’ve wanted you for so long…”

My words did the trick and after another long thrust, Antony came inside of me, filling me with his hot seed, collapsing against me, as he kept me pinned to the wall, both of us sweaty and gasping for breath.

We were both silent, his forehead resting against mine. I tilted my head so that I could kiss him and he quickly deepened it, our bodies still joined. I knew we would need to talk, I would say what he wanted to hear and most of it would be the truth. But for this moment, words were unnecessary and this was all we needed.

After all, it said so much more than words ever could, showed so much more. Because like this Antony and I were perfect. This was a place that we could only reach together, where the outside world couldn’t touch us and I just wanted to savor it for as long as possible before it became about everything else again.

• End