I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

After his time with Khione and Nivea came to an end, Nathan left that secluded space with clear reluctance weighing on his steps. No matter how many times he experienced it, parting from them always felt heavier than it should have. The warmth of their presence lingered with him even as reality reclaimed its hold, and soon enough, he found himself back within the chamber assigned to him inside the Theatre of Pompey.

The room was vast—lavish even by Roman standards. Marble columns lined the walls, faintly illuminated by oil lamps, while fine draperies cascaded from the ceiling and framed the wide balcony doors. It was a room reserved for guests of exceptional importance, befitting Nathan’s current standing in Rome, a standing earned not through birthright alone, but through deeds that had shaken empires.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. A low groan escaped him as pain flared through his body without warning. The cursed remnants of Pandora’s box reasserted themselves, sending a familiar, cruel ache through his veins, as though invisible chains were tightening around his flesh and soul alike.

For a brief while, the time he had spent with Khione and their daughter had dulled the pain, pushing it into the background like a distant echo. The illusion had been comforting—but fleeting. Now that he was alone again, the suffering returned with its usual merciless intensity, as if punishing him for daring to forget it.

He pushed himself upright and rolled his shoulders, craning his neck slightly in an attempt to ease the stiffness that had settled there. It helped little.

Stepping closer to the balcony, he parted the curtains and looked outside. Night had fallen over Rome. The city stretched endlessly beneath him, bathed in moonlight and the flickering glow of torches. The distant hum of voices, laughter, and guards’ footsteps carried faintly through the air.

After Caesar’s trial, discussions had dragged on endlessly—politics layered upon politics, voices arguing over futures already shaped by blood and conquest. Nathan had excused himself without regret. He had no patience for such conversations, not when they circled endlessly without true resolve. Instead, he had chosen rest—and the solace of family. Time, as it always did in their presence, had slipped through his fingers far too quickly.

A sharp knock suddenly echoed through the room.

Nathan turned away from the balcony and approached the door, his expression already weary. He opened it to find Apollodorus standing there, posture rigid, eyes sharp with their usual scrutiny.

“If you are here for another speech about the dangers of facing the Light Empire,” Nathan said flatly, “you can spare your breath. I don’t need it.”

Apollodorus studied him for a moment, irritation flickering beneath his composed exterior.”Sometimes,” he replied, “I truly wonder where all your confidence comes from, Septimius.”

“I think I am fairly modest, all things considered,” he said. “Especially after my most recent achievement—bringing down an Emperor you and many others were too afraid to confront.”

Apollodorus’s expression twitched despite himself.

Before he could respond, a soft giggle rang out from behind him, light and amused. Cleopatra stepped into view, her presence instantly altering the atmosphere of the corridor.

“You have certainly not lost a single ounce of your arrogance, Septimius,” she said, her voice smooth, her gaze sharp with mirth.

Apollodorus glanced at her, then back at Nathan, clearly deciding that whatever argument he had prepared was no longer worth pursuing. Without another word, he stepped aside and left.

Nathan shifted his attention fully to Cleopatra and stepped back to allow her inside.”If you are here,” he said, closing the door behind her, “I assume you finally escaped the thrilling discussions with Fulvius and the others.”

“I did,” she answered as she entered the room, her tone carrying both relief and amusement.

“Hours upon hours of talk,” Nathan remarked. “That must have been exhausting.”

“It is,” Cleopatra replied, turning slightly toward him, a knowing smile touching her lips. “But it is the duty of a ruler.”

Her eyes lingered on him as she spoke again.”Something you may have to learn one day, should you ever wish to rule a kingdom of your own.”

“For now,” Nathan said, stepping closer, “I would rather leave such matters to others. I have far more interesting concerns.”

“Like dismantling yet another kingdom or empire?” she asked, lifting her gaze to meet his as he stopped before her. “You truly are something.”

Nathan smiled, raising his hand slowly. His fingers brushed against her dark, ornate locks, smooth beneath his touch, before trailing lightly along her skin. It was warm, light sun-kissed—a shade shaped by Alexandria’s relentless heat. His attention lingered on her amber eyes, framed by dark markings that only served to accentuate their intensity.

Her features were flawless—regal yet alluring. Full, soft lips tinged with pink, a calm confidence radiating from her very presence. Even standing still, she commanded attention without effort.

She was, without question, absolutely stunning.

Nathan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, not rushed, not hungry yet, just a soft kiss that lingered long enough for Cleopatra to feel the intention behind it. Her eyes fluttered shut almost immediately, lashes brushing her cheeks as if her body had decided for her that resistance was pointless, and his hands settled at her waist, warm, certain, thumbs grazing the curve of her hips through the thin fabric.

“Hmnn~”

The sound slipped out of her without permission, a small, breathy moan that mingled with the quiet sound of lips moving together, the faint, intimate echo of skin and breath meeting in the stillness of the room. Nathan deepened the kiss gradually, inhaling her, the familiar scent of her skin and perfume flooding him, and his fingers began to roam with slow confidence, caressing the softness of her body, memorizing again the warmth beneath his palms as if he had been deprived of it for far too long.

Cleopatra’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink, her breath turning uneven as the kiss stretched on, his mouth devouring hers for a long, unbroken moment that left her lightheaded. Heat pooled low in her belly, her body responding eagerly to his touch, every nerve seeming to spark awake just from the way he held her, the way his lips claimed hers as if he had every right to do so.

When he finally pulled back, releasing her lips, she had to suck in air greedily.

“Haa… haa…”

Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, pink lips swollen and damp with their mingled saliva, eyes glassy as she looked up at him. Nathan smiled faintly, clearly pleased with the effect, and leaned in again, kissing her chin, then trailing down to her neck, where his lips pressed, lingered, and brushed slowly along her skin.

“Hmnn~~”

Cleopatra’s head tipped back instinctively, exposing her throat to him as another soft moan escaped her. She lifted her chin, silently inviting him, her body arching just enough to make it clear she wanted his mouth wherever he pleased, his lips, his tongue, his attention.

“You didn’t come here just to share words of praise, did you?” Nathan murmured against her neck, his voice low, intimate, sending a shiver through her.

Her amber eyes, wet and heavy-lidded, found his as she lowered her gaze back to him. She raised a hand and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the heat simmering beneath.

“I don’t like wasting my time,” she replied quietly, “and I wouldn’t come this far just for mere words.”

Nathan answered her with another kiss to her neck, slower this time, as if savoring her response. “Then I assume you have really missed me,” he said, his lips still brushing her skin.

“I did,” Cleopatra breathed, another moan slipping free as her fingers drifted lower, her hand hovering over the unmistakable hardness pressing against his pants. “Missed every part of you… more than I could have ever believed.”

His mouth curved into a smirk, and without another word his hands moved decisively to her hips. In one smooth motion he lifted her, her breath hitching as the ground disappeared beneath her feet, and carried her to the bed, setting her down with controlled care, his presence looming over her.

“Wait.”

Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his arm, stopping him. She looked up at him, her expression intent, searching his face as if something vital remained unsaid.

“Remove your disguise,” she said simply.

Nathan smiled, understanding immediately, and reached up, shedding the disguise of Septimius without hesitation. The illusion fell away, revealing his true face, familiar and unmistakable. Cleopatra barely had time to take him in, to admire the lines and features she had missed, before his attention returned fully to her.

He grasped the hem of her white tunic, ornate with gold, and lifted it slowly, exposing her legs, her thighs, the smooth skin that caught the light as the fabric was pushed higher. He sank to his knees before her, spreading her legs with care, lifting the tunic further until it revealed the white cloth wrapped around her waist, the last barrier hiding her most intimate place.

Nathan didn’t hesitate. His fingers slid under the cloth and drew it away, baring her completely. Cleopatra gasped softly as cool air brushed against her, her body already glistening, exposed and open before him. Her pussy shone with arousal, beautiful and inviting, and Nathan paused for just a heartbeat, eyes dark with desire, taking in the sight of what he had missed for far too long.