30. Brave the storm. #2
We go deeper into the building, to the underground bathhouse near the canal.
They used to heat the water with giant wood-burning boilers, but have since upgraded to liquid-fire ones, thanks to our regular supply.
The place is a work of art: spacious rooms of white marble with pools of black tiles, clients and courtesans swimming in clouds of sweet-smelling vapor.
We’re led to the changing room, where another host offers us bathing cloths and silk bathrobes before showing us to a private shower.
We make good use of their modern plumbing, warming up our sore limbs in the spray.
My eyes wander all over Harlow’s naked body, which I haven’t seen in days because of the cold in the mountains.
At night we slept fully clothed under layers of blankets and animal skins from our stores.
My cock hardens, and I’m tempted to take him here and now, in the shower.
But he’s still shivering, lips purple after spending days at such low temperatures.
“Come on, let’s get you submerged in hot water,” I say once we’re clean and robed.
Harlow gives me a grateful look as I guide him out.
The bathhouse is, after all, in a pleasure house, and practices that are usually forbidden in other establishments are encouraged here.
Harlow’s eyes widen as we walk by two men kneeling in front of a naked older woman by the stone benches.
You can’t have sex in the pools, but the rest is very much allowed.
The vapors hide most activities, but that makes it even more thrilling as the outline of debauchery is revealed intermittently.
“Eyes on me, love,” I joke as Harlow gapes toward what looks like a courtesan sucking off a man by the white marble wall.
“Should we be here?” he whispers.
“Why shouldn’t we?”
“I—I don’t know… It’s…”
I chuckle. “We’re two adults, and this is a pleasure house. Everything is allowed as long as all parties consent. Do you consent to being here with me to bathe? Then we can go upstairs. I’m not much of a sharer, and you’re mine, but other people’s pleasure doesn’t bother me.”
Harlow relaxes visibly. “If anyone touches you, I’ll punch them in the face.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “My hero.”
I pull him farther into the bathhouse until we reach a secluded pool. He lets out a soul-deep groan as we walk into the hot water—the sound of it goes straight to my groin. I sit on the underwater steps and pull him onto my lap. Harlow sighs deeply before melting in my arms.
“Feeling better?” I ask after a while.
He hums appreciatively. “I can feel my fingers and toes for the first time in days.”
“Good.” I trail kisses between his shoulder blades, his dragon tattoo captivating me.
Over the past months, his fear of dragons has lessened, as if facing Myrval and her blazing fury unlocked the part of him that couldn’t face his trauma. He survived a dragon even more impressive than the one who burned him as a child and again lived to tell the tale.
My fearless dragoner.
“I can feel you, Captain,” Harlow says, rubbing his lower back on my erection.
I sigh. “It feels good to touch your skin after so long.”
He spins in the water, facing me and sliding his legs around my waist, bringing us closer still. “Is this allowed?” he asks, playing coy.
“Certainly, Your Royal Highness.”
“And this?” He licks the water off my neck before finishing his course on my mouth, the tip of his tongue delving between my lips.
I groan. “Yes… I dare say it is.”
Harlow guides my hand between his legs and rubs his taint and cock on my palm and fingers. “And this?”
“Now I’m not sure about that… but who am I to stop unlawful behavior? I’m a convicted pirate, after all.”
His laugh sounds breathless as he captures my mouth. Somewhere in the vapor clouds, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes. Someone is having more than a little fun nearby.
Harlow pulls back, eyes feverish. “Are they…?”
I grin. “Fucking each other’s brains out?
Oh, yes.” I love seeing him squirm. It reminds me of the first time he came to the Tender Caress with us, months ago, back when we were still strangers but he captivated me.
“And I dare say they’re not the only ones.
” Moans echo from another direction—a man.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask after a pause.
Harlow bites his bottom lip, then surprises me by shaking his head. “No. But I want to get out of the water.”
“Oh?”
He slides off my lap and then pulls me to my feet.
I’m about to walk out of the water entirely when he pushes me down again to sit on the edge of the pool.
He kneels on the tiles between my legs, below me, his shoulders barely out of the water, and before I can wonder what’s going on, he has closed his lips around my cock.
The air swooshes out of lungs like wind along a cliff, and my hand reaches for the back of his head reflexively. I bury my fingers in his wet curls.
Of all the things I expected him to do, this wasn’t on the list. I thought Harlow didn’t like to risk being seen. Apparently, I was wrong. We’ve been together for over a year, but there are still many discoveries to make.
“Harlow…” I say. And when he looks at me, his tongue on the tip of my cock, his eyes hold a world of pleasure, and I am undone. “Fuck… I’m going to have to make love to you in this bathhouse. I don’t think I can wait until we reach our room.”
His answer is to swallow my cock until the tip hits the back of his throat.
I close my eyes as I fight the wave of mind-shattering pleasure coursing through my body.
I haven’t come for a few days, not since traveling deep into the Spine to hunt for the quarreling dragons, and my skin feels too tight over my heated body.
A naked courtesan walks by, pulling along a drunk client, judging from the dazed look on his face.
I expect Harlow to stop what he’s doing entirely now that we have an audience, but he doesn’t seem to care. Even as the courtesan says with a lustrous voice, “That’s it, honey. You’re doing so well. Make him forget his name,” before disappearing again in the vapor clouds.
Harlow, seemingly pleased with the compliment, doubles his efforts, and I have to fight anew not to get carried away and come on his tongue.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, love,” I say before pulling him up. His lips make a popping noise as he releases my cock.
I guide him toward the wall and put his hands on the white marble. Then with my feet, I open his legs wider before kneeling between them.
“Jayce—”
But the words get knocked out of his chest as I bury my face between his ass cheeks, my tongue finding entry. Soon, his moans echo through the bathhouse, joining the others.
Right now, the world could burn around us, and I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Harlow is the air that I breathe, the one person I didn’t know I couldn’t live without before meeting him.
His face, his smile, the shape of his body, have carved themselves into my brain, my soul…
Even when he’s not with me, I see him everywhere.
I love him so fucking much it’s sometimes painful, but I wouldn’t change it for all the riches in Hargos.
Harlow calls my name between moans, begging me. I need to be inside him… I need…
We’re in a pleasure house, the one place you’re sure to find oil in every corner. I tear myself away from Harlow and walk to a tray with soaps and other bathing necessities on the side of the pool. I slick my fingers with scented oil before bending Harlow over, his hands still on the wall.
“Relax for me, baby,” I say in his ear, and his body trembles.
I’m hurried today, my fingers diving deep. He doesn’t seem to mind, urging me on with filthy words. The pleasure house is not a place for romance. But we’ve romanced each other for months, and we don’t mind exploring simple and raw lust.
“Please… please… please…” Harlow sings.
“You want it?”
“Yes…!”
“Are you sure?” I ask. Contrary to what I said earlier, I will stop now if he wants me to—even if it pains me. We’ll just have to get to our room in a hurry. “People might see us.”
“I don’t care,” he admits.
I smile, hitting the sweet spot inside him with my fingers, and he moans. “Very well.” I pause. “Is it… working for you? That we’re here, debauched for all witnesses to see?”
Harlow’s head snaps up, and he arches his back. “Yes… Oh fuck, it shouldn’t… but…”
I nibble at his ear and pull my fingers out. “Let them see what I’m doing to you. I’ve seen the way they looked at you as we walked by. They all think you’re a courtesan. But you’re mine, Harlow. They can witness your rapture and dream about you, but never get a taste.”
I’ve never been a jealous man, but Harlow awakens my possessiveness like no other ever did before him, and I constantly feel the need to claim him—the need to show the rest of the world they can’t have him, for he was made for me, and I was waiting for him all my life, without even knowing it.
We’ve been together for months now, and yet I still can’t seem to find the end of this love. It’s ever-growing—evergreen.
Harlow whimpers, already missing my touch, but I don’t have the patience to wait until he begs for more. My own erection is painful, the head swollen from lust, veins bulging along the shaft. I align cock with his entrance and slowly push in, meeting no resistance.
Harlow gasps. “Yes..!”
Then his gasps turn into sobs as I thrust into him without mercy.
He holds on to the marble in front of him for dear life as I fuck him hard enough to propel him forward.
His slender feet slide on the wet tiles, and I get a hold of his hips—hard enough to leave delicate bruises on his fair skin, the kind he loves so much.
His breathless moans echo through the vapor clouds, for all to hear.
From the corner of my eye, I see shadows appear and disappear through the mist. Other visitors and their courtesans, enjoying the show for a moment, but I can’t seem to focus on them. All of my attention has narrowed down to Harlow, his voice, his skin, his pleasure, and the feel of him around me.
By some miracle, I manage to make it last, even though I feel like soaring.
The slap of our bodies colliding echoes along the marble walls and floors.
Harlow’s legs give out entirely, and I pull out long enough to spin him around and hoist him in my arms, his legs around my lower back as I plunge inside him again. Chest to chest, he moans into my neck as I chase our orgasms.
He cries out, then bites the muscles between my neck and shoulder as he comes all over my abs. The sharp but quick pain—its savagery, the claiming—goes straight to my groin, and I follow him immediately over the edge. I come inside him while still thrusting wildly.
Our rapid breaths mingle as our lips come together. We kiss as if it’s our first time touching. We kiss even as the heat in the bathhouse becomes unbearable.
Harlow stays in my arms, whispering sweet-nothings as I carry him to the showers under the appraising looks of the other visitors and their courtesans. We wash again before putting on our bathrobes and escaping.
I pull him into my arms once more and carry him up all the stairs to reach our room.
Tomorrow, we’ll have breakfast with the crew and enjoy the winter solstice festivities together. We braved the storm, so we all deserve a break. But tonight, the night is ours, and love is in the air.
The End.