I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan stayed inside Freja for several long breaths after the last pulse of his orgasm faded, his hands still gripping her hips as if anchoring himself. Her inner walls twitched around him in faint, trembling aftershocks, each pulse making him feel the wet heat he’d poured deep into her womb. Only when her spasms softened and her body slackened fully did he finally loosen his hold.

He exhaled, chest rising and falling with heavy satisfaction, and slowly pulled back. Her pussy clung to him even in unconscious reflex, milking him as he withdrew until the final slick pop freed him.

Freja’s legs immediately went limp.

Her calves slid down the sides of his hips, then hung off the edge of the bed, her feet touching the ground without strength, ankles loose, toes barely curled. Most of her upper body remained sprawled across the bed—arms slack, hair messy and damp, her gray stola clinging transparently to her sweat-soaked skin.

Her pussy, still stretched from him, lay fully exposed between her spread thighs. Thick white cum escaped her in slow, obscene streams, sliding out of her reddened hole and dripping onto the bedsheet in steady, lewd droplets. Their fluids mingled and spread into a warm stain beneath her hips.

Her stola had become a translucent second skin, clinging to every curve, outlining her nipples — hard, swollen, poking sharply against the fabric. Not being naked somehow made her look even more debauched. The dress clung to her ribs and belly, wet patches outlining the feminine softness of her torso, the fabric riding up high enough that her entire lower body was uncovered, shamelessly displayed.

Nathan’s hand hovered over her chest for a moment, tempted to squeeze, to tease, to pull another moan from her—but he closed his fingers instead. Another day. The desire didn’t fade; it simply coiled deeper inside him, waiting.

Freja wasn’t merely tired — she had surrendered mind and body completely. Her chest rose in slow, uneven breaths, her eyelids fluttering without opening, a faint smile still pulling at the corner of her lips with each twitch of leftover pleasure.

Elin wasn’t any better.

She lay beside Freja, sprawled fully across the bed, naked from head to toe. Her legs slightly were spread too, open the same way they had been when he finished with her earlier. Her pussy no longer leaked, but the white stain on the sheets beneath her was evidence of how much he had spilled into her before turning to Freja. Her thighs still glistened faintly where the fluids had dried, her hair fanned out in wild tangles across the pillow.

Nathan looked at both girls—Freja dazed and dressed in soaked, translucent fabric, Elin naked, her chest rising and falling softly—and desire coiled in him again, hot and insistent. He wanted them again. He wanted to push them until neither could walk. He wanted to fill both of them until his cum dripped down their thighs for hours.

But it was their first time, and their bodies had limits.

He stood over Freja and gently gathered her dangling legs, lifting them onto the bed. Her knees wobbled even in unconsciousness. He arranged her beside Elin, both girls lying on their backs, thighs parted in sleep, faces slack and flushed.

He doubted either would wake before the next evening. Their expressions were blissfully empty, fully spent after they had both lost their virginity.

Nathan let one more glance linger on the sight. The two girls laid out together, marked by him, bodies exhausted into sleep. It was intoxicating enough that he had to look away or he’d climb back onto the bed.

He needed a bath.

He pulled on his pants, the fabric sticking slightly to his skin where sweat still cooled, and headed out of the room. Servilia’s estate was familiar to him by now; he knew the path through the quiet halls, the stone floor cool beneath his feet as he walked toward the large open bathing area.

The bath was spacious, built for luxury rather than utility, intended only for Servilia yet large enough for several people. Moonlight floated across the surface of the water, pale and shimmering.

Nathan undressed again, dropping his pants to the floor before stepping into the water.

Coolness wrapped around his calves. He crouched and dipped his hand in, feeling the temperature, then closed his eyes and summoned heat beneath his skin. The fire magic flickered inside him like embers being fed air. He let it seep into his palm, not too much, keeping it controlled.

The water responded instantly.

A slow warmth spread outward in ripples, turning cool to lukewarm, then lukewarm to comfortably warm. He added more heat, inch by inch, until small tendrils of steam rose from the surface, curling upward in lazy spirals.

When it reached the perfect temperature, he finally lowered himself in with a long, relieved exhale.

The heat seeped into his muscles, easing the deep tensions that always wrapped themselves around his ribs and back—the curses gnawing at him from within, always active, always draining him. His body ached constantly, stamina bleeding away faster than any normal man’s. Warm water was one of the few things that soothed it.

But sex had helped more.

Much more.

For nearly half an hour, he had forgotten the pain entirely. Elin’s moans, Freja’s trembling legs, the heat of their bodies, the tightness of their pussies clenching around him—it had drowned out the curse’s bite, softened the relentless burning inside him, brought relief he hadn’t felt in years.

He slid deeper into the bath, water rising to his chest, steam wrapping around his shoulders. His head tilted back, eyes closing, lips parting as he let his body sink into the warmth.

Nathan heard the soft ripple of footsteps long before they reached the bath chamber. Even without looking, he already felt her presence—a familiar warmth entering the quiet, mist-filled room.

He kept his eyes closed as Servilia slipped soundlessly into the steaming water beside him. The surface trembled around her as she settled in, unburdened, serene, almost glowing under the lantern light that danced along the marble walls.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked, her voice carrying that playful lilt she so often used with him. She swept her arms lazily through the water, creating gentle waves as she looked his way with an unmistakable teasing smile.

Nathan opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a soft, tired but contented smile of his own.

“Quite a lot,” he answered, “thanks to you, I suppose.”

Servilia chuckled lightly, the water rippling against her shoulders.

“They only needed a little push. Otherwise they would have hesitated and regretted it later.”

“You’re quite selfless,” Nathan said, turning slightly toward her. “It could have been your night alone.”

He meant it. More than either Freja or Elin, it was Servilia’s quiet intelligence and consideration for others that Nathan appreciated. She carried a maturity the others didn’t yet possess, and she genuinely cared for the two women.

“I’ve already had moments with you,” Servilia said softly, leaning against his side, “and I’m having one right now.”

Nathan slipped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her gently against him. Her skin was warm from the bath, her presence comforting and familiar.

“That’s kind of you,” he murmured, “but… I’ll be leaving in a few days, Servilia.”

“I know.” Her voice dropped, a faint sadness threading through it. “And I will miss you. A lot.”

He brushed his fingers through the loose strands of her hair floating on the surface of the water.

“Distance will separate us, yes… but I won’t forget you. Any of you. If you ever need me, I’ll come. And I’ll return to see you whenever I can.”

Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes remained a little wistful.

“I know you will. I’m not your only woman here after all.” She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, lifting the mood with her usual teasing nature.

Nathan chuckled under his breath.

Julius Caesar, he thought, was an absolute fool.

How could that man have ever discarded such a woman—wise, graceful, loyal, and far sharper than the Senate? She deserved far better. And now, astonishingly, she was with him.

“Is your son not here tonight?” Nathan asked after a moment.

“He’s busy,” she answered, letting out a thoughtful sigh. “He’s with the senators in the Theatre of Pompey. Learning, or so he claims. I’m surprised they welcomed him so quickly…”

“I asked Fulvius to teach him,” Nathan said simply.

Servilia turned to him, surprised yet touched.

“You did?”

“He’s the future of your House,” Nathan replied. “And I don’t want you to keep carrying everything alone forever. It may take years, but one day he won’t need you the same way anymore. When that happens… you’ll be free to come live with me.”

Servilia’s expression softened into a quiet, tender smile.

It was bittersweet—imagining the day her son would no longer depend on her—but also comforting. Hopeful. She let her hand drift to her stomach.

“I’ll be looking forward to that day,” she whispered, “along with our little daughter.”

She spoke with such certainty, such gentle joy, that Nathan could only smile. She had wished for a daughter, and in her heart she already believed the child would be exactly that.

The rest of the hour passed in tranquil silence. They remained close in the warm water, sharing the kind of quiet companionship that didn’t require conversation. After the bath, they retired to another room and lay down together—not as conqueror and lover, nor as lord and mistress, but simply as two people who treasured one another’s presence.

There was no desire that night, no urgency—only peaceful sleep and the steady comfort of having someone familiar resting beside them.

Just lovers, resting together beneath the dim Roman lamps, waiting for dawn.