“Ready?” I asked her, my heart fluttering, and she was so delectable. This was so hot, and I was ready to go. I removed her blindfold as she blinked in the candlelight, smiling at me.

  I positioned myself at her entrance and plunged into her, hard and deep. Her tied legs held her steady as I pushed all the way in, burying in all the way. God, she was so wet and so tight, it felt so good. I had to push my body into hers, the cords kept her pinned to the bed, and I wasn’t about to let her lose. I hadn’t experienced this level of arousal in my life, and now? I was in total control.

  She screamed, a yell of utter delight as I pushed into her, her hands balled into fists, her muscles fighting the restraints. The rush, the excitement, the danger. I was moving, faster, deeper, driving into her with abandon.

  I grinned, a surge of pure, primal satisfaction coursing through me. I might be a clumsy rogue, a terrible liar, and a magnet for trouble, but, gods, I knew how to please a woman. And Rosalind… Rosalind was a great partner.

  I felt her tighten, her muscles spasming, the tightness between her legs urging me on, and then, with an involuntary grunt, my own body shaking in pleasure, I came, hard and fast, one of the biggest loads in my life.

  A fucking relief, that’s what it was, the juices dripping from Rosalind as she tightened again. This girl was wild, and what a delight. I felt her getting close, so I kept at it, despite the release, helping her achieve that second climax.

  And that’s when the door burst open.

  A full-on, explosive bursting open, the wood splintering, the hinges groaning in protest, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

  And there they stood. Victor. And Felix.

  And there I was. Balls deep inside Rosalind, my hips still locked with hers, sweaty, out of breath, my hands still tangled in her hair, my face… well, my face was probably a picture of sheer, unadulterated panic.

  Victor was holding a long, elegant sword, its bde gleaming wickedly in the candlelight. His face, which I’d kissed with abandoned and was so aristocratic, was twisted with rage, his steel-grey eyes bzing with fury. Felix, standing slightly behind him, looked… well, he looked smug, as usual, but there was also a flicker of… a blush? Confusion? And his cheeks were definitely flushed.

  “Sam!” Victor roared, his voice a raw, animalistic sound that sent a jolt of pure terror through me. It was the roar of a predator who had just found his mate being… serviced… by another male.

  “Victor?” I stammered, my voice a pathetic squeak, my mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation. My eyes darted between Victor, his furious expression, the sword in his hand, and Rosalind, still impaled on my cock, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and… was that amusement? Gods, I hoped it was amusement. How the hell did he find me? And… Felix? What was he doing here? And why did he look like he’d just run a marathon?

  “How do you know Sam?” Rosalind demanded, her voice surprisingly strong, given the circumstances. Her gaze was fixed on Victor, and there was a definite spark of anger – and, perhaps, a hint of… betrayal? – in her eyes. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s none of my business, you preening peacock!”

  “Felix!” I excimed, ignoring Rosalind’s question for the moment, my attention shifting to my… rival? Friend? Whatever the hell he was. “What are you doing here?” His face was flushed, his hair was mussed, his clothes were slightly disheveled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been up to.

  “Never mind that!” Victor shouted, his voice cracking with fury. He took a step forward, the sword glinting menacingly. He was… pissed. Royally, spectacurly pissed. And I was… naked. Still inside Rosalind. And completely, utterly screwed. “You… you…” He sputtered, unable to articute his rage, his gaze darting between me and Rosalind.

  The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Victor was Rosalind’s fiancé, her nightly companion at the Inn! The “effeminate pussy” she’d been waiting for, that idiot. The one she’d been tied up for. The one I’d… repced. Oh, fuck. This was… bad. Very, very bad.

  And then, it got worse.

  “Wait a minute,” Rosalind said, her voice holding us all in our pce, her eyes narrowed. She was so goddamned mesmerizing, wiggling under me, still tied to her restraints. “Victor… you know Sam? And… and Felix, who are you?” She looked from Victor to Felix, then back to me, her expression shifting from confusion to anger to… a dawning, horrified realization as she focused back on Victor. “You… you bastard! I knew it!”

  The game was up. All of it. The mission, the pretense, the… everything. It was all crashing down around me, a spectacur, catastrophic implosion of lies, betrayals, and… very, very bad timing.

  “You know,” I said, pulling out my previously proud cock, all slimy and fcid. My voice was a little too high-pitched, a little too desperate, trying to defuse the situation with a joke that was probably going to get me killed, “Look, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? You two, are... intense. In a... a good way! I’m talking from first hand experience with both of you... well, I’m just a simple rogue. I can’t... keep with either of you. You both have… unquenchable… appetites. And, frankly, I just don’thave the stamina to keep up with either of you.”

  It was a stupid thing to say. A really stupid thing to say. But I was panicking. And, honestly, it was kind of true.

  The reaction was… predictable.

  Victor roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury, and lunged at me, the sword fshing.

  Rosalind yelled, something that sounded suspiciously like, “Get him, Victor!” So much for gratitude.

  And Felix… Felix just sighed, shook his head, and muttered, “Idiot.” Helpful as ever, Felix. Though, in his defense, he wasn’t wrong.

  I knew I had to get out of there. Now.

  With a surge of adrenaline-fueled desperation, I yanked myself away from Rosalind, ignoring her startled cry, and rolled off the bed, nding in a naked, tangled heap on the floor. Graceful, Sam. Real graceful.

  Victor was still coming, his eyes bzing, the sword held high. My rogue training, Ashara’s endless drills, the countless hours spent dodging blows and escaping traps… it all kicked in. But, let’s be honest, it was mostly sheer, blind panic.

  I dodged the first swing, the bde whistling past my ear, far too close for comfort. I felt the wind of it, a cold whisper of steel that sent a shiver down my spine. And other pces. I stumbled back, tripping over a discarded boot, and nearly fell.

  “Stay still, you little worm!” Victor yelled, lunging again. His face was red, his voice hoarse, and he was clearly not thinking straight. Which, I suppose, was understandable, given the circumstances. He was also, I couldn’t help but notice, magnificently angry. The kind of angry that made his muscles bulge and his veins stand out. It was… terrifying. And… a little bit… impressive. “I’ll carve you like a capon, you pox-ridden son of a whore!”

  I ducked, weaved, and scrambled, my body was sweaty, desperately trying to avoid becoming a shish kebab. I grabbed anything I could find to defend myself – a pillow, which I promptly threw at Victor’s face, a candlestick, which I swung wildly, and a… chamber pot? Okay, desperate times. I hurled the empty chamber pot at him. It cttered against the wall, missing his head by a good foot, but the sound of it breaking was… satisfying.

  And then, I saw my chance. My clothes, or at least some of them, were scattered near the foot of the bed. And, more importantly, so was the enchanted brooch. It was there, on the nightstand, gleaming faintly in the candlelight, a tiny, insignificant object that was the cause of all this chaos.

  With a final, desperate lunge, I dove for the clothes, snatching up my shirt and breeches, and, crucially, the brooch, clutching it in my hand like a lifeline.

  “You think you can just fuck my fiancée and walk away, you lecherous scoundrel?” Victor roared, his voice echoing through the room. He was advancing again, the sword still held high. “I’ll have your guts for garters, you… you… cock-juggling thundercunt!”

  “You think you can just fuck my fiancée and walk away, you lecherous scoundrel?” Victor roared, his voice echoing through the room. He was advancing again, the sword still held high. “I’ll have your guts for garters, you… you… cock-juggling thundercunt!”

  “Well,” I shouted back, my voice a mix of panic and defiance, as I struggled to pull on my breeches one-handed (and failing miserably), “she’s a fantastic fuck! You’re a lucky man, Victor!”

  That earned me a roar of outrage and a thrown vase. A heavy vase. Which, thankfully, I managed to dodge. It shattered against the wall behind me, showering me with shards of porcein.

  “And you’re not bad yourself!” I added, for good measure. “Rosalind’s a lucky woman, too! You two should really just… get back to it! I’ll just… see myself out!” I punctuated this brilliant piece of diplomacy by gesturing wildly with my half-donned shirt, nearly tripping over a rug in the process.

  The mansion erupted into chaos. Guards came running, alerted by the shouting and the crashing. Doors smmed open, revealing shocked faces – nobles in various states of undress, servants gaping in disbelief, and one very confused-looking poodle.

  And I… I ran. I ran like hell.

  I didn’t bother with stealth. I didn’t bother with the Shadow Dance. I just ran, shirt-on, barefoot, my bare ass fpping in the breeze, leaping over furniture, dodging startled servants who shrieked and scattered like chickens, and tumbling down staircases, narrowly avoiding sword swings and thrown goblets. Victor was persistent, I’ll give him that.

  I could hear Victor chasing after me, his shouts echoing through the halls, and Felix… Felix was ughing. The bastard was actually ughing. I’d deal with him ter. Though, honestly, a part of me was… gd… he was there. Misery loves company, and all that.

  I burst into a rge dining room, my lungs burning, my legs aching, and immediately realized I’d made a mistake. It was a dead end. Or, at least, it looked like a dead end. Two servants were standing near the main doors, blocking my escape. And Victor was right behind me, closing in fast.

  “Nowhere to run, you filthy weasel!” Victor shouted, his voice hoarse with rage, but also… with something else. Was that… a hint of… admiration? No. Couldn’t be.

  I skidded to a halt at the opposite end of a long, polished dining table, the gleaming surface reflecting the light of the chandeliers above. It was a magnificent table, probably worth more than my entire life, and it was currently the only thing separating me from a very angry nobleman with a very sharp dagger.

  Victor stopped on the other side, his chest heaving, his eyes bzing. He looked like a cornered predator, ready to pounce.

  “Well,” I said, trying for a casual tone and failing miserably, “this is… awkward.”

  “Awkward?” Victor roared. “You think this is awkward? I find you plowing my betrothed, and you call it awkward?”

  “Look,” I said, raising my hands in a pcating gesture, exposing my cock for all to see, I was begging for mercy, sue me. “I already said you two were perfect for each other! You’re both… intense. Passionate. Unstoppable forces of nature. I’m just… a humble rogue. I can’t compete with that!”

  Felix chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to fill the room. He’d followed Victor in, but he was hanging back, leaning against a wall, watching the whole scene unfold with an expression of detached amusement.

  Victor, however, was not amused. He smmed his fist on the table, making the silverware jump. “You think this is a game, you… you knave?”

  “Not a game,” I said quickly. “More like… a very enthusiastic, very unpnned… detour. Look, I got what I came for,” I held up the hand with the enchanted brooch, letting it glint in the candlelight, “and I’m leaving. No harm, no foul, right?”

  That was, perhaps, not the best thing to say.

  Victor’s eyes narrowed. He started to circle the table, his movements slow, deliberate, like a wolf stalking its prey. And I, like an idiot, mirrored his movements, keeping the table between us, a ridiculous, high-stakes game of cat and mouse.

  “You think you can just… waltz in here, steal from me, ravish my fiancée, and then… waltz out?” Victor said, his voice low and dangerous.

  “Well, when you put it like that…” I said, trailing off. I took a deep breath, trying to think fast. I needed a distraction. A way out. Anything.

  Just then more guards are heard in the distance.

  “The guards are coming,” Felix said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “And the servants are blocking the doors.”

  Victor stopped, his eyes flickering towards the hallway, then back to me. I was trapped. We were trapped. Unless…

  A slow smile spread across Victor’s face, a smile that was both menacing and… strangely… appreciative.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Samuel,” he said, his voice surprisingly low, almost… friendly. “But this isn’t over. We will meet again. And next time…” He let the threat hang in the air, unfinished but unmistakable.

  I didn’t need to be told twice.

  I turned and ran, heading for the nearest window, the rge, thankfully unbarred window that overlooked the gardens.

  I crashed through the window, gss shattering around me, and nded hard in the soft earth below, the remnants of the melting snow and the emerging mud cushioning my fall, somewhat. My body shivering, not just from the cold, but from the adrenaline, the fear, the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of it all, my stolen amulet clutched in my fist.

  As I scrambled to my feet, I saw Felix, silhouetted in the shattered window frame, still ughing. He raised a hand in a mock salute, then, pced a kiss on Victor’s mouth, turned and jumped, nding beside me with a soft thud.

  “That… that son of a bitch,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but grin. He’d… he’d actually helped me. In his own, twisted way.

  “Come on, Sam,” Felix said, his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before the whole damn household gets here.”

  We took off running, naked, down the gardens, servants and guards chasing. It was a mad dash.

  I looked back, one st time, towards the shattered window. Victor stood there, framed by the jagged gss, his chest still heaving, his expression… unreadable. And then, he did it. He smacked his lips and winked. A slow, deliberate wink that sent a shiver down my spine – a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold night air and everything to do with the sheer, unadulterated… audacity… of the man. What. The. Fuck.

  Was he angry? Yes. Absolutely. But was there something else there, too? A grudging respect? A… flicker of interest? Gods, I hoped not. Or… maybe… I hoped he was. Just a little. Victor was… intense. Terrifying. And, damn it, hot. But he was also Rosalind’s, and that was a complication I definitely didn’t need.

  I turned and stumbled after Felix, who was now running away.

  I stopped, finally, at the mouth of a narrow alleyway, leaning against a cold, damp brick wall, trying to catch my breath. My lungs burned, my legs ached, my… everything… ached, and I was pretty sure I’d pulled a muscle somewhere during that insane escape. Felix stopped beside me, also breathing heavily, but with that infuriating smirk still pstered on his face. He didn’t look like we’d just sprinted through a nobleman’s mansion and jumped out a window. He looked… refreshed.

  “Enjoy the show, Felix?” I managed to gasp, my voice still ragged.

  He just chuckled, that low, rumbling sound that usually made me want to punch him. Or… something. “Let’s just say,” he said, his violet eyes gleaming in the dim light, “you’ve certainly… expanded your skillset, Samuel. From clumsy lockpicking to… acrobatic… seductions. Quite the transformation.”

  I was about to retort, to tell him to go to hell, or maybe just to… I don’t know… kiss him… when a figure emerged from the shadows directly in front of us.

  Ashara.

  She was, as always, a picture of terrifying, unattainable perfection. Her leather outfit gleamed in the moonlight, her dark, furry ears twitched, her golden eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach clench.

  I straightened up, as best I could, considering I was still naked, covered in mud and sweat, and probably sporting a few new bruises. I fumbled in the pocket of shirt, pulled out the enchanted brooch, and held it out to her.

  She just… looked at me. A long, silent assessment that made me feel like I was back in the dungeon, strapped to a table, waiting for the next… lesson.

  Then, finally, she stuck out her hand, giving me a nod of approval as I dropped the brooch on it.

  She gave a single, curt nod. “You are no longer a student, Samuel,” she said, her voice low and resonant. “Congratutions.”

  And with that, she turned to leave.

  I blurted out, like an idiot: “Wait!”

  She stopped, looking at me.

  “The brooch…what’s it… for?” I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it.

  She smiled, a slow, enigmatic curve of her lips. “This enchanted brooch, Samuel?” she said, holding it up, the tiny jewel catching the moonlight. “It will keep you warm on winter nights. You stick it on your cloak, and it does its thing. A useful trinket, wouldn’t you agree, especially if one likes running around naked?”

  She paused, her gaze sweeping over me, a hint of amusement in her eyes. Then, she reached out and ran her fingers, lightly, almost teasingly, across my exposed chest, a touch that sent a shiver through me, despite the cold. “Keep it,” She ordered softly. “You’ve earned it.”

  And with that, she was gone, melting back into the shadows as silently and effortlessly as she’d appeared.

  I stood there, stunned, staring after her, the brooch a small, warm weight in my hand. Keep it? What the hell did that mean?

  “Well, now,” Felix said, his voice breaking the silence, a definite smirk in his tone. “That was… interesting.”

  I turned to him, still trying to process… everything. Ashara’s words. Her touch. The brooch. And, of course, the whole… fiasco… at the mansion.

  Felix was watching me, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement, and… something else. Something that made my heart beat a little faster.

  He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “We have some time to catch up, don’t we, Sam?” he said, his hand reaching out resting lightly on my shoulder, a surprisingly… friendly… gesture. “Let’s go home shall we?” he tilted his head and winked, and fuck me, I knew what that meant. And... yeah... I was game.

  AnnouncementLast chapter! A new 16 chapter book is coming soon! It'd be great to get some comments, though. Bookmark this page and check it on Monday. Honestly, two or three thoughts on the story so far would be great. How is Sam? Is he living up to you? We have a LOT of smexy adventures coming up, and when I say a lot... I mean a fuck-ton. But without engagement, the drive to type these smutty adventures dwindles. Is anyone actually reading? Bookmark