I managed to stumble my way to my room, the effects of the alcohol and the lingering…everything… making the stairs seem longer and steeper than usual. I fumbled with the key, finally managing to unlock the door and push it open.

  The room was small, sparsely furnished, but blessedly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I shed my cloak and boots, my movements clumsy, and colpsed onto the bed, fully clothed, intending to just… close my eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

  But sleep wouldn’t come. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I was exhausted, aroused, confused, and… strangely restless. Itchy. Like something was missing.

  I sat up, running a hand through my hair, and tried to focus. Tomorrow, I’d have to deal with Ashara, with the amulet, with… with whatever the hell was going on with my life. But tonight… tonight, I just wanted to…feel.

  Knock. Knock.

  The sound, soft and hesitant, barely registered at first. I frowned, wondering if I’d imagined it.

  Knock. Knock.

  There it was again. Who the hell would be knocking on my door at this hour? Maple? Had she changed her mind? The thought sent a flicker of… something… through me. Hope? Anticipation? Then I remembered the cloaked figure, my neighbor. It could be her, but why?

  I got up, my legs still a little unsteady, and opened the door.

  It wasn’t Maple. It was the cloaked woman. It was…her. The woman from the room next door. The one with the…enthusiastic… nocturnal activities. The one Maple had hinted about discretion.

  I’d seen her around the Crooked Nail, always hooded, always heading straight for her room, a fleeting glimpse of… something… that had intrigued me. I’d passed her in the hallway more than once, a quick exchange of nods, a wink once, a silent toast another night when I had Lily with me. But we’d never spoken until now. And now, here she was, standing at my door, looking…expectant.

  She was… striking. Brunette, with long, dark brown hair that cascaded down her back in tangled waves, and expressive dark eyes that were currently sparkling with… what? Mischief? Determination? Lust? Probably a combination of all three. Her lips were curved in a slight, almost predatory smile, and she clutched a shawl around her shoulders as if daring me to try and take it from her.

  “I… I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, her voice not at all whisper, more like a purr, with a hint of steel underneath. “But… I…” She trailed off, but the look in her eyes said everything she didn’t.

  My first instinct, the rogue’s instinct, was… well, it wasn’t suspicion. It was…interest. Intense, immediate, undeniable interest. This wasn’t a trap. This wasn’t a test. This was… an opportunity.

  “It’s… it’s alright,” I said, my voice a little rougher than I intended, betraying my sudden, sharp intake of breath. “Come in.”

  I stepped aside, and she didn’t hesitate, slipping past me into the room. The scent of her – something floral, but with an underlying note of pure, unadulteratedsex– filled the small space.

  “I… I just…” she began again, then stopped, shaking her head. “That effeminate pussy,” she muttered, more to herself than to me, then looked up at me, her eyes bzing. “We had a fight. A stupid fight. And… he didn’t show up tonight.” Her voice wasn’t heartbroken. It was pissed. And… something else. Hungry.

  My own past heartbreaks… faded into insignificance. This wasn’t about sadness. This was about… fire. And I was suddenly very, very warm.

  “I’m… ” I started, but she cut me off.

  “I just… I needed…” she whispered, her voice a raw, throaty purr that sent shivers down my spine. “I needed…this.” And with that, she reached out and grabbed my shirt, pulling me towards her with a surprising strength.

  The kiss started anything but softly, it was a csh of teeth and tongues, a desperate, hungry joining that left no room for doubt about her intentions.

  I reached for the hem of her tunic, but before I could do more than brush the fabric, I scooped her up into my arms. She gasped, a surprised ugh escaping her lips, and wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her the few steps to the bed, never breaking the kiss, and practically threw her onto the mattress. She nded with a soft thump, her hair fanning out around her head, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and challenge.

  I followed her down, hovering above her, my hands braced on either side of her head. We stared at each other for a long moment, the air thick with unspoken desire. And then, we started to undress each other, a frantic, almost violent tearing away of fabric, buttons popping, ces snapping. It was… urgent.

  She reached for my cock, already hard and straining against my breeches, her fingers closing around it through the fabric, squeezing, stroking. A groan escaped my lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated lust.

  “Not yet,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “My turn.”

  I pushed her hands away, gently but firmly, and knelt between her legs. She looked at me, a smile in her eyes, but I just grinned. And then, I lowered my head.

  I started with her breasts, teasing her nipples with my tongue and teeth until she was writhing beneath me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then, I moved lower, kissing my way down her belly, feeling her muscles clench beneath my touch. I reached the juncture of her thighs, and I paused, my breath catching in my throat.

  There, high on her inner thigh, almost hidden by the soft, dark curls at the apex of her legs, was a tattoo. A crescent moon, cradling a single, shimmering star. It was delicate, intricate, and… utterly captivating.

  I brushed my lips against the tattoo, a soft, reverent kiss, and I felt her shiver.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured, my voice hoarse, the word a mix of admiration and pure, unadulterated lust. I looked up at her face. She closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the caress.

  She didn’t reply, just arched her back, offering herself to me completely.Her hands fisted in the sheets, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that were quickly turning into moans.

  And then, I went to work.

  I used my tongue, my lips, my teeth, exploring every inch of her, tasting her, savoring her, driving her wild. I found her clit, a small, sensitive bud hidden amongst the soft folds of her flesh, and I teased it, flicked it, sucked it,until she was a writhing, moaning mess beneath me.

  Her moans were loud, guttural, uninhibited, the sounds I’d heard echoing through the walls of the Crooked Nail on countless nights, now directed at me.

  “Oh, gods… Sam… fuck…” she gasped, her voice ragged, her hips bucking against my mouth. “Don’t… stop…”

  She pushed my head down, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me close, guiding me, demanding more. And I was more than happy to oblige.

  I slipped a finger inside her, then two, stretching her, preparing her, feeling the slick heat of her arousal. She wassowet, so ready, so…responsive. It was intoxicating.

  My mind raced.Who was this woman? This wild, passionate, uninhibited creature who had stormed into my room and turned my world upside down?I didn’t know, and, in that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was the way she felt, the way she tasted, the way she responded to my touch.

  She was a storm, and I was happily caught, drowning in her.

  “Harder,” she gasped, her voice a desperate plea. “Please…faster...”

  I increased the pressure, my fingers moving in and out of her, my tongue swirling around her clit, my whole body focused on bringing her to the edge. I could feel her tightening around me, her inner muscles clenching, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  She arched her back, her head thrown back, her eyes squeezed shut, her legs tightening around my head, a low, guttural moan rumbling in her chest. She was close. So close.

  And then… it happened.

  She cried out, a sharp, piercing cry, and her body exploded. A sudden, intense gush of warmth, a flood of liquid that soaked my face, my hair, everything. She spasmed, her inner muscles clenching around my fingers, and then… she squirted.

  A full-on, torrential downpour of pure, unadulterated climax. It hit me square in the face, a warm, surprisingly sweet-smelling flood that left me gasping, sputtering, and utterly, completely astonished.

  I lifted my head, blinking, wiping the liquid from my eyes, a mixture of shock and… damn, that was impressive… on my face. She was still trembling, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, a small, breathless ugh escaping her lips.

  “Ready… for… more…?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  Before I could answer, before I could even think, I surged up, flipped her quickly, and plunged into her, hard and deep, burying myself to the hilt.

  She screamed, a high-pitched, ecstatic cry that echoed through the room, her nails raking down my back, leaving fiery trails in their wake. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t slow down. I drove into her again and again, each thrust fueled by a mix of lust, adrenaline, and the sheer, overwhelming need to cim her, to possess her, to make her mine.

  I looked for my release, eager to join her.

  I felt her tighten around me, her inner muscles clenching, her body starting to shake. She was close again. So close. And so was I.

  “Sam… fuck… Sam…” she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.

  And then, with a final, guttural roar, I came, my body convulsing, my vision whiting out, my seed spilling deep inside her at the exact same moment she cried out again, her body arching, her inner muscles milking me, another wave of warmth washing over us as she reached her climax a second time. A smaller squirt this time, but no less intense.

  I am sure we’ve woken up the entire inn.

  We colpsed, gasping for breath, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. I colpsed beside her, careful not to crush her, and pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her, drawing her warmth and her scent. She snuggled into me, her breasts pressing against my chest, her leg thrown over mine, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

  “Rosalind,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her hand tracing the line of my jaw. “My name is Rosalind.”

  “Sam,” I replied, my voice equally soft. “Just… Sam.”

  AnnouncementComments? 3 chapters left in this lil novel, then the next one begins. I don't even know if anyone is reading this.