“Aye,” I said, deciding in that moment that my lust was greater than my rumbling belly.
After I had my fill of a man or three, I’d go to the tavern to eat and drink the rest of the night away.
***
The brothel was like many others I’d visited in the past. The incense that burned added to the intoxication of the place, and soft velvet covered the benches and chairs in the main room.
I wasn’t in the main room for long.
Once speaking to the Madam, I was sent down the hall. As I walked down the corridor, sounds of flesh pounding flesh reached my ears, as did breathy moans and throaty grunts. My dick ached, and I clenched my jaw.
Just a while longer.
Entering the room, I saw a bed in the center that was adorned with fluffy pillows and a blanket made of what looked to be fine silk. Definitely a more up-scale establishment. There were no windows, but there was a curtain to the left that fell over another vacant bed.
The scent of rosemary drifted throughout the room, and the linens smelled of dried roses.
Right as I sat on the bed, a door on the far wall that connected two rooms opened, and in came a man with short blond hair and a tanned torso that was ridged with muscle. He was only wearing a thin pair of trousers; ones I knew would be all too easy to take off.
My mouth watered at the thought of tasting him.
I inwardly groaned at the thought of him tasting me.
When another man appeared behind him—brunette and less muscled but still just as tantalizing—I knew I’d made the right decision by coming there.
Every time I sought out a fuck, I requested two men instead of one. Somehow, it made it seem less intimate.
The blond smoothed his hand up my chest before finding the opening in the front of my shirt and slipping it inside. His fingers toyed with my left nipple—and the gold hoop that pierced it.
When our stares met, I saw the way he shrank back a little, but he didn’t stop touching me.
“What are your names?” I asked them.
“Julian,” answered the blond before nodding to the man beside him. “And he is called Rory.”
I did not truly care to know their names, but I thought it might help dissolve their apprehension. Not that their comfort mattered much, but as horrible as my reputation was, I would never force myself on any man who didn’t want it—paid or not.
I looked at Rory. “Can you not speak for yourself?”
Rory’s face paled. “I… I apologize, sir.”
“You both fear me,” I stated, seeing the way their gazes darted to me before looking away. Neither answered as it wasn’t a question. “I can assure you, there is no need to be afraid. I desire your bodies and that is all. No harm will come to you.”
I was born with mismatching eyes: one blue and one brown. Legends spoke of me being cursed by the god of the sea and given my unnerving eyes as punishment, but the truth was far less fascinating. I was just born with them. Many men had heard of me, and my eyes were always a dead giveaway as to who I was.
And with that recognition came fear.
I leaned back on the bedding, resting on my elbows and watching the pair of them.
“What do you wish of us, Captain?” Julian asked.
“Undress each other,” I answered.
Although tentatively at first, they obeyed my command. Julian kissed Rory’s neck and pulled them chest to chest. By the look in Rory’s eyes as Julian pulled the string on his trousers, and in turn, the way Julian watched the other man, I got the impression they were lovers.
Actions were quite simple to fake, but the tenderness in their expressions was not.
Once they were naked, and gloriously so, I removed my clothes too. Occasionally, I liked to take my time with the men I bedded—spending extra time exploring their bodies and letting them explore mine—but that night, I wanted it hard and fast. I sought a release and nothing more.