Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

JANUARY 18TH, 1667

F reezing rain pattered off Logan's shoulders as he made his way down the deserted street. It was no time to be out, but he had things to do and not a lot of time to do them. His and Rowan's connections had come through with a lead on Cyrus's possible whereabouts. So here Logan was in the port town of Roseforte on the southern coast of Talva's mainland, slogging through freezing rain and slush and trying not to be seen by the various navy men who typically hung around fort towns like this. They couldn't risk bringing the Siren , so Logan had booked passage on one of the few ships still sailing during the winter, and it had not been a pleasant journey.

Rowan's contact alleged that Cyrus was being kept in an inn by the Talvan navy in Roseforte. Logan had been to six different inns already in the two days he'd been here with no luck. He had to be careful in his search. If Cyrus, or the navy, heard that a one-handed man was asking around for him, he'd bolt, and who knew how long it would take them to track him down again.

Logan spotted his destination, an inn with a tavern on the main floor and a sign depicting a swan holding a pink rose over the door. He ducked inside, settling his soaked hood back onto the equally sodden shoulders of his coat. Despite the gloom outside, the interior was warm and lively. Logan's eyes scanned the room. There was a table of navy sailors in the corner, but the rest of the patrons were civilians. Logan was unsurprised to see that most of them looked like merchant sailors, probably not from around here. In this awful weather, the locals would be at home with their families. But here, the patrons gathered around mugs of ale and warm cider, chattering away the stress of the day.

Logan's eyes landed on a familiar figure tucked into a booth in the corner opposite the navy men. Not Cyrus as he'd hoped, but none other than John Hakon.

Logan couldn't help the grin that threatened to split his chapped lips at the sight of his friend. Maybe he should've held a grudge. The gods knew Rowan still did. But Logan was the type to forgive and forget. It had been an accident. John had apologized, and though the stump of Logan's wrist still ached, especially in this weather, he was happy to see John.

John seemed to have spotted him as soon as he walked in. He raised his mug in greeting when their eyes met, and Logan took that as an invitation.

"Fancy meeting you here." Logan slipped into the booth opposite him. John nodded, taking another swig of his ale. He looked tired. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he was thinner than Logan remembered. The only thing that didn't look worn down about him was his freshly shaved chin and cheeks.

A red-haired woman hurried up to take Logan's drink order, then bustled away again when the navy sailors called for her. Logan and John kept their faces averted till the men looked away. Logan personally wasn't well known as a pirate by sight, but he still didn't want to draw the attention of the law. Especially when he was alone and one hand short.

"So," Logan said brightly when the serving woman had left. "What are you doing here? And where are the rest of you?" He hadn't seen the Kraken in the harbor, but then again, such an infamous pirate vessel wouldn't dock in a legitimate port like Roseforte. Especially one crawling with navy men.

"They're not here. I'm on a special errand for the captain," John answered.

"Oh? And what is it? If you don't mind me asking. Maybe I can help you out."

"You remember our mutual friend Cyrus? "

Logan sat forward, his interest piqued. "You're looking for him? Seems our errands are one and the same."

The woman brought Logan's cider. Logan thanked her and paid with a generous tip. She winked at him before leaving again.

"I am looking for him," John said when she was gone. "We got word that he'd escaped on one of our merchant ships. The captain wants me to track him down before he talks."

"Well it's too late for that." Logan took a sip of his cider. The sweet apple taste burst across his tongue followed by the stark sting of alcohol, all too quickly replaced by the bitterness of the predicament they currently found themselves in. Rowan and the rest of them had completely forgotten about Cyrus in their haste to leave Illusion behind. They'd wondered if the Demon would just murder him without Rowan's moderating presence, but it seemed that he'd stayed alive long enough to escape. "We had a run in with the Talvans about two months back. We barely made it out, and we have it on good authority Cyrus is to blame."

"Little rat," John growled. "Do they know the location of…" He cut himself off before uttering the name Illusion, lest prying ears be nearby.

"I don't think so. It seemed like they just knew of its existence. Not the location."

"Probably because the bilge rat was stowed away below deck. We should be thanking the stars that he didn't figure it out."

"He's not the smartest. I don't know if he would have figured it out even if he was above deck," Logan said.

"Well he was smart enough to capitalize on what he does know. Yves is going to be furious when he finds out," John grumbled. "You said you fought the Talvans? Is everyone okay?"

"We lost a few crew members. Your Ga?l and Robin are fine. Robin proved his skills once again." Logan tried to keep his voice neutral, but losing crew members he was responsible for always stung.

"And your captain?" John cleared his throat. "Yves is definitely going to ask."

"He's alive and well." It was true, in the strictest sense. Rowan was alive, and he'd recovered from his injuries. But he had new scars across the right side of his face, and his right eye was gone .

John sighed and slumped against the back of the bench. "Good. I don't know what Yves would do if anything happened to him."

"That bad?"

"You have no idea," John groaned. "He… Well, let's just say we're much richer and much more exhausted than we were before. And we're not docking for the winter."

"What? Why?" Sailing during the winter was madness. Even though it typically didn't get too cold in this region, winter came with storms. Lots of them. Sea traffic slowed to only essential trips and those who didn't have a port to call home. Even the most seasoned sailor would balk at the prospect of sailing during the winter when they didn't need to.

John shrugged. "Captain is pushing us. Hard. He hasn't been the same since you lot left."

Logan's brow furrowed. He didn't know the details of Rowan's short relationship with the Demon, but he'd assumed that if there were feelings involved, it would have been on Rowan's side. He couldn't imagine the Deep Water Demon mourning the departure of his lover to the point he would needlessly put his crew at risk.

A burst of raucous laughter from the navy men across the room interrupted them, and they waited in silence for the noise to die down.

"So," Logan finally said, "any luck with Cyrus?"

"Yes and no. He was here. I've confirmed that much. But he left two days ago. I don't know what ship he was on or where he was going. But Nia over there"—he pointed to the serving woman, who smiled at him—"says the bastard was bragging how he's going to make a fortune taking down the two worst pirates on the sea."

Shit. Logan must have missed him by mere hours. Now he and Rowan would have to start searching all over again.

"We'll have to find out what navy ships left two days ago. No way they're going to let an informant like that go off on his own."

Nia the serving woman materialized beside the table and set down a plate of steaming hand pies.

"Oh, uh, we didn't…" Logan began.

"On the house, sweetheart." Nia patted him on the shoulder. "You've been the only quiet and polite table all night, so I brought you a little something."

"Thank you!" Logan beamed. Nia was quite pretty, and he hoped he wasn't blushing in front of John. He didn't want more teasing about his virginal status again. Though after that blowjob in the garden he supposed he technically wasn't so virginal anymore.

To distract himself, he reached for one of the delicious looking pies. Then paused, realizing he'd used the arm that no longer had a hand attached to it. Even after months, he still wasn't quite used to it. But thus far he had kept it resting on his lap under the table. Now it was out in the open for all to see.

"Oh my. Best not let the others see that," Nia said gently. "They'll think you're a pirate." She squeezed Logan's shoulder, then walked away, hips swaying.

While a one-handed pirate might have been cliché, it was for good reason. Marra, Talva, and even Lasland all cut off one hand from pirates they captured, even if they intended to hang them after.

Logan sighed and picked up a pie with his left hand. He bit into it, relishing the savory filling. John remained silent, and Logan realized that he was staring at where Logan's arm abruptly ended. It was clear that he still felt guilty over what happened.

Finally, John's deep-set eyes flicked up to Logan's face.

"I'm sorry."

Logan was sure he didn't strike a very serious figure with his cheeks full of pastry. He quickly swallowed and said, "You've already apologized, and I've already forgiven you. No need to do it again."

John's lips thinned to a line. "I don't know how you can forgive me so easily. You lost your hand because of me."

Logan mulled it over for a moment. He'd always been a forgiving person. Some saw that as a weakness, but Logan preferred to think that most people deserved a second chance.

"I've heard of you, you know," Logan said after a while, pitching his voice lower so the other tavern patrons wouldn't overhear. "I recognised your name when the Demon said it that first day. It took me a while to place it, but now I remember."

John had gone very still. "What have you heard?"

"You're John C. Hakon, disgraced Lieutenant of the Marran Navy. They call you the Beast of Whitestone Reef." He paused, letting the old title and nickname sink past John's shock. "You burned the northeastern flotilla to the waterline during the war with Kefrye, killing dozens, if not hundreds, of officers and sailors in the process."

John looked positively sick to his stomach. Up until now, Logan had assumed this information wasn't a secret considering John was still using his real name. But based on John's reaction, Logan suddenly realized he'd just brought up a potentially touchy subject out of the blue.

"If you know what I've done," John said at length, "why are you sitting here with me? Why are we friends?"

Logan sat forward again, his arm stump resting on the table between them, hand pies forgotten.

"We're pirates. I can no more judge you for your past than my own."

"I don't suppose I can convince you I had a good reason," John said gravely.

"I was indentured to the Marran navy until I was eighteen. I know the cruelty they're capable of. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Then why mention it at all?" John asked, perplexed.

Logan sighed. He'd never been a good talker. Not like Rowan was. And it seemed that he was not explaining himself very well. In fact, he realized that what he'd said had probably sounded accusatory.

"You seemed like you were brooding about my hand. So I wanted to remind you we've all done worse things than accidentally blowing my hand up." He sighed again. Exasperated. "My point is, you don't have to feel guilty after I've forgiven you. I already knew your past when we became friends, and I chose to associate with you anyway."

John huffed a laugh. "That's a bit simplistic, and reminding me of my crimes against my own country is a strange way to go about it." But he seemed to have relaxed back into the conversation now that he knew Logan wasn't about to turn around and rat him out to the navy men across the room. He still had a hefty bounty on his head, after all.

"I'm not very good at that stuff," Logan admitted.

"Fine. Just for you, I'll stop feeling guilty starting in the morning. But let me apologize just one more time."

"Okay, lay it on me."

"I have a gift for you."

"Really?" Logan perked up. He liked gifts, and it was a hell of a lot better than another gloomy apology.

"It's up in my room." John eyed the stairs on the other side of the room. He'd have to pass the navy men to get there. "Maybe it's best if you came up instead of me bringing it down."

They finished off their drinks and Logan shoved the last bits of pastry into his mouth. John left another tip for Nia on the table, then they made their way toward the stairs. Thankfully the navy men and the rest of the sailors were too deep in their cups to pay the pair much mind.

John's room was small but clean. A single straw-stuffed bed sat against the wall to the left with a washstand opposite. The bed was meticulously made, still showing the habit of a man who'd spent years in the military. Logan wondered if John missed it, but after his faux pas earlier, he wasn't going to pry.

There was a small window at the back of the room. In better weather, it would have looked out onto the roof of the shop next door, but now it only showed sheets of rain sluicing down its pitted surface. The rain had gotten heavier while they were in the tavern. Logan hadn't noticed due to the noise of the other patrons, but here under the gabled roof it was positively roaring. Logan wasn't looking forward to trudging through this storm back to his own accommodations.

John shut the door behind them and scooched past Logan to the bed. He knelt to peer under it.

"Here it is." He drew out a large wooden box the length of his forearm and set it on the edge of the bed. "Come look."

Logan went to stand beside him. The box was well made of a rich-toned wood that might have been oak, with brass fittings. Logan ran his fingers over the smooth lid.

"It's pretty."

"Well? Open it." John stood, dusting off his knees.

Oh. Logan had assumed this beautiful box was the gift. He undid the brass catch and lifted the lid.

Within was a stretch of sky blue cloth punctuated by compartments that fit snugly around the components of the real gift.

Nestled among the fabric was an exquisitely carved false hand made from the same wood as the box, with small metal fittings that would allow the fingers to bend. Another mechanism secured it to a leather cuff that would fit over Logan's wrist. Beside it sat an elegantly curved hook that could be swapped in for the hand.

Logan stared at it for a long time. He'd been thinking about getting a prosthetic for months, but thus far hadn't found an opportunity to go looking.

"Where did you get this?" he breathed. His fingers brushed over one delicately carved fingernail.

"I made it. Well, I carved the wood parts. Someone else helped me with the rest." John sounded pleased with himself. "What are you waiting for? Try it on."

Logan carefully lifted the hand out of the box and slid the cuff over his wrist. He tightened the straps easily one-handed, then held it up, marveling at the detail and how it fit his wrist perfectly. It was almost an identical mirror of his real hand.

"How did you do this? It's amazing."

"Look, you can even bend the fingers," John said, ignoring his question. He folded down some of the fingers so only the middle one stood, straight and proud. "See?"

A giddy giggle bubbled up to Logan's lips. "Perfect. Now I can be rude with both hands. I've been missing that."

John just smiled, pleased that Logan liked the gift. Logan experimentally moved the fingers into different positions with his real hand, admiring the craftsmanship. John had even thought to carve a delicate swirly texture into the palm and fingertips to make it easier to grip things.

A bolt of lightning flashed outside, startling him. It was followed up closely by a deep roll of thunder. He was reminded that he still had to walk through the storm to get back. And now he'd be carrying his new prized possession.

John's gaze followed his out into the rain. He winced as another flash of lightning lit the room.

"You shouldn't go back out in that. You'll catch your death if you don't get struck by lightning first."

"I don't think I can avoid it." Logan laughed. "The place I'm staying is at least half a mile away."

"Just stay here. I can ask Nia for extra bedding and take the floor."

"I can't kick you out of your bed!" Logan protested.

"We can share if you prefer." John raised a suggestive eyebrow, causing Logan to blush to the roots of his hair. John laughed.

"It's settled then. I'll ask for the extra bedding."

John went down to the kitchen by the back stairs, leaving Logan alone in the room. He sat on the edge of the thin bed, cradling the wooden hand in his lap and watching the rain through the wavy glass window. His thumb ran absently over the whorls of grain on the palm. It was by far the best gift he'd ever received, even if it was given by the man who'd caused him to lose his hand in the first place.

He held both of his hands out in front of him. Flesh and wood side by side. They were the same, even down to Logan's wide palm and short nail beds. How had John managed to make it nearly identical to his real hand?

Logan was startled from his thoughts by the door opening to admit the man in question. Logan quickly returned his hands to his lap.

"How does it fit?" John asked, closing the door behind him.

Logan held both hands up side by side again, and John came to sit beside him.

"It's amazing." After John's mild flirting earlier, Logan was hyper aware of John's body heat next to him. "How did you get the details so perfect?"

John took the wooden hand in his, and Logan could almost feel the pressure of his fingers as if it was his own flesh. His heart jumped into his throat, and not just because of the flash of lightning and the boom of thunder that rattled the roof overhead. Logan hadn't been able to forget that first lunch they'd had together in the lady's garden on Illusion. Even in the dead of winter, he could still smell the heady scent of flowers crushed between his back and the warm brick. He could still hear the bees buzzing in his head, erasing any rational thought with their droning.

The flow of Logan's thoughts caught briefly, finally connecting two things that had previously been separate. John had done what he'd done to delay them from leaving. He'd apparently been doing so all along, on the Demon's orders. And what better way to delay the repairs than by distracting the man in charge with sex ?

Another thunderclap jolted him out of his thoughts, and he realized he'd been staring at his wooden hand where it was cradled in John's hand. He looked up to see John gazing at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said I just have a good memory for detail," John repeated. Logan's gaze fell back to their joined hands. Had John really only sucked his dick to distract him from carrying out the Siren 's repairs? Was that directly on the Demon's orders, or had he decided that course of action on his own, hoping he wouldn't have to resort to more drastic measures? Fuck. Logan thought it hadn't affected him much, but his stomach dropped at the thought that John hadn't really wanted to do that with him.

He realized he was staring at John, and forced himself to blink. The smell of crushed flowers withered, and the buzzing of bees turned into an uncomfortable roar.

Logan didn't quite know how to ask if it was true. He glanced around the room, looking for something to distract him, and realizing John had returned empty-handed.

"Where are the blankets?"

"Oh, Nia said she would bring— Speak of the devil," he said as a knock sounded on the door. He released Logan's wooden hand and went to answer it.

"Delivery!" Nia said cheerfully when he opened the door. "I thought it must be awfully cold up here since you asked for so many, but it's not so bad. Were you just trying to lure me into your room again, Mister Hakon?" Her tone had turned flirtatious. As she handed over the bundle of blankets, John's hip bumped the door.

"Oh?" Nia peeked past him into the room and spotted Logan. "Your cute blond friend is staying? You should have told me! I would have fixed my hair." She patted her light red hair where a few tendrils had fallen fetchingly out of their pins. She really was quite pretty, with peachy, freckled skin and well-fed curves that filled out her blouse and skirt. Logan knew he was blushing fiercely both from John's recent closeness and Nia's flirtations.

John turned to put the blankets at the foot of the bed, and Nia leaned against the doorjamb, cocking one generous hip to the side and crossing her arms beneath her bosoms. The blush climbed higher on Logan's face, and he lowered his eyes respectfully.

"Quite the shy one, isn't he?" she said to John .

"Don't tease the poor man. He lives on a ship far away from flirtatious women," John quipped.

"So do you," Nia said.

John just shrugged.

Nia pouted and leaned further into the room. "But it's your last night here isn't it, John? I was hoping I could give you a proper goodbye to thank you for all your hard work keeping me warm these last few nights."

The barely concealed innuendo was not lost on Logan. He fidgeted uncomfortably. John took Nia's freckled hand between his and kissed her knuckles.

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Nia disengaged her hand and ran it lightly up John's firm chest.

"Who's disappointed? Two is better than one, I always say."

Logan's heart skipped a beat in shock, and Nia stepped into the room. She crouched by the side of the bed to catch Logan's downturned gaze. Her eyes were shockingly green, rimmed with thick lashes the same reddish-orange as her hair.

"So? What do you say, shy little pup? Do you want to help your friend keep a poor tavern maid warm on a terrible night like this?"

Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat. It seemed she and John had a previous arrangement, and Logan didn't want to hinder them. And he didn't want to pressure John into touching him again if he hadn't even wanted to the first time. Maybe he could go back to his own inn after all. It wasn't so far…

As if nature was conspiring against him, the rain began to beat the window panes even harder, and lightning forked through the clouds threateningly. Logan glanced at John for help, but he only raised his eyebrows. They were definitely asking him to join whatever arrangement they had. Was John okay with this?

Logan thought about going back down to the tavern to wait it out, but the navy sailors were probably still down there. It wasn't that he didn't want to join John and Nia, but his only sexual experience was getting head from John that summer afternoon in the garden. He didn't have any experience with women, let alone two partners at once. His mouth opened, then closed again wordlessly.

John shut the door and approached, leaning down until his lips were close to Logan's ear .

"Should we finish what we started, Logan? I promised to teach you, but we never got a chance."

Logan's heart was pounding so loud that he heard John's words as if he were very far away. He found himself nodding along to John's proposition.

"Teach him? Did you bring me a delicious little virgin to corrupt, John?" Nia's hand slid up Logan's thigh, and he felt all the blood rush from his head to somewhere else, which definitely didn't help his ability to think coherently.

"I, uh…" Logan stuttered. Nia had a very sweet face; who could have guessed it hid this bold personality?

"Think it through, Logan. We won't do anything till you say yes. Right, Nia?" John assured him. But he was still so close, his body heat warming Logan's clammy skin. This time, there was no one pulling John's strings, no ulterior motive driving him.

Nia pouted, but her hands stopped their exploration. "Please say yes. It's been ages since I've been able to play with an untrained pup like you." Her pale lashes fluttered at him.

Logan glanced between the two of them. He'd always had a little trouble reading romantic or sexual situations. He'd often gone back to his bed alone after a night out with the crew only for them to tell him the next day that someone or another had been flirting with him the whole time. But this was clear even to him. And he was quite chilly with the winter storm raging outside…

"I…I might not be any good," he said.

Nia graced him with a warm smile. "Like John said, we can teach you." She took both of his hands between hers. "Dear lord! The fake hand is warmer than your real one. No need to be so nervous!"

Logan calmed slightly at her reassuring words. He would probably never get an opportunity like this again and even if he did he might not notice it. Besides, maybe this would put the unquiet memories of crushed flowers, buzzing bees, and John's mouth to bed once and for all.

"Okay," he agreed.

Nia's smile brightened even more. "Okay? As in you'll do it?"

"Yes." He was getting nervous again but he tried to push it aside.

"Oh, thank the gods, 'cause I'm already wet as that storm out there." She giggled and leaned forward to kiss Logan. Her lips were warm and soft and her tongue, when it slipped into his mouth, tasted vaguely of mint tea. She fitted herself between his thighs and moved his hands to frame her waist. Her tongue moved tantalizingly slowly, guiding his own tongue where she wanted it to go. She made a pleased little sound in her throat, and Logan felt the thin bed dip as John settled onto it, watching them.

Logan decided to be bold. He guided Nia off the floor and pulled her into his lap, her legs to one side and her ample buttocks nestled against his already swelling manhood. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder and began kissing him again, this time with more fervor as she felt his hardness pressing against her. Logan's arm supported her back, but thankfully his remaining real hand was free to explore. He cupped her breast and was met with a little sigh of pleasure.

"Maybe you don't need me to teach you," John chuckled. Logan glanced at him to see he was lounging against the pillows, lazily stroking his own naked cock as he watched them. This was Logan's first time seeing any part of John naked, and his pulse quickened. John's dick was massive. The two of them were of similar stature, but John was miles ahead of him in that department. It wasn't that it was especially lengthy. Logan estimated it to be of similar length to his own, but it was thick . Surely as thick as Nia's delicate wrist, if not more so. Logan's body shuddered at the sight.

"What a pervert you are, John. Me and…" She paused, looking at Logan with her wide green eyes sparking like chips of peridot. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie, I never asked your name."

"Logan."

"Very cute." She ran her fingers through his hair. "You look like such an angel; I almost feel bad for defiling you."

"Trust me; he needs it," John said. Nia shrugged and turned her attention back to Logan. She unbuttoned the top of Logan's shirt.

"I'm sure you won't look so innocent once we get these clothes off," she whispered to Logan conspiratorially. Logan's dick twitched in response, and she squeaked in delight.

Following her lead, Logan untucked Nia's blouse from the waist of her skirt and unlaced the stays beneath. His hand slipped beneath, and he took his time exploring her pliant flesh, slowly inching her blouse and chemise further up her waist as she continued unbuttoning his shirt and distracting him with mint-flavored kisses.

Before he knew it, they were both topless, and Logan trailed kisses across the freckles dotting Nia's peachy breasts. She moaned quietly, almost imperceptible beneath the sound of the driving rain. She pulled away after a moment, and Logan thought maybe he'd done something wrong. But she sank to her knees on the floor between his thighs and unbuckled his belt.

"Let's see what we're working with here." She pulled his trousers down his hips. When his cock sprang free, she all but clapped her hands delightedly. "Very nice," she cooed, and embarrassment flushed his face.

He bit his lip as she palmed his cock. Her hands were small, especially compared to John's. She stroked it a few times, smiling as an involuntary moan escaped him.

"You can let your voice out, sweetie. Otherwise how will I know what you like?"

When her warm mouth sank down around his cock, he didn't hold back the moan that escaped his throat. She cupped his balls in one hand, massaging them gently as her head bobbed, minty tongue swirling over the tight skin. John moved to kneel on the bed behind him. He ran his fingertips up Logan's bare chest, over the apple of his throat and tilted his chin up so Logan had to look at him. His deep-set brown eyes brimmed with lust and mischief.

"Do you like her better than me?" he teased, his hard cock pressing against Logan's back.

"N-no…" Logan stuttered as his cock slid deep into the back of Nia's mouth.

"Oh? Am I better then?"

"I don't… I mean…ngh…" Logan found he couldn't form a coherent sentence with Nia's mouth around him. He grabbed John by the front of the shirt and pulled him into a kiss instead. There was no question left in his mind that John wanted this. Wanted him . John's strong grip tightened on Logan's jaw, tilting his head further back to deepen the kiss. Nia hummed, her throat vibrating deliciously. Logan was sure he wouldn't last long this way, but he was determined to keep it together and actually see this through.

As if she had read his mind, Nia suddenly released him. She wiped a bit of saliva from her lip and sat back on her heels, observing his tilted back head, his bare chest and his aching erection. John didn't release him from the kiss as Nia pulled off Logan's trousers, boots and socks.

"Lay down," she ordered .

John finally broke the kiss but didn't release Logan. He raised his eyebrows at Nia.

"Ladies first."

"Oh, so I'm a lady now? I'm flattered." But her chest flushed pink as she stood. John released Logan's face to pull her closer. Logan was caught sandwiched between them, his face nestled in the valley between Nia's breasts and John's thick cock still pressing into his spine. Nia's skin smelled faintly of sweat and floral perfume. His mind flashed back to the flowers crushed beneath his back, and he inhaled the scent of her as John pulled her into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Logan took her rosy nipple into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue. Nia gasped, and John petted the back of Logan's hair in approval.

John guided Nia to lay on her back on the narrow bed. He was still mostly clothed but for his cock poking out from his undone trousers. He bent over her and licked a stripe down her sternum, hitching her rose-pink skirts up her thigh with one hand. His eyes slid to Logan where he remained awkwardly at the edge of the bed.

"Watch and learn." He smirked. He pushed the layered skirts higher and spread Nia's thighs apart to expose the junction between her legs. Nia hadn't been joking earlier when she compared herself to the storm. The crotch of her underwear was flooded with moisture.

"So wet for me already," John teased, "or is it for him?"

Nia arched one red eyebrow. "Are you going to keep talking or use that mouth for something useful?"

John chuckled and pulled the underwear down her legs. He gripped her thighs and widened them a bit further, then ran the pad of his thumb over the edge of her soaked slit, pulling it back slightly to reveal the petal-like folds within. Logan had the feeling John was doing this for his benefit, and he couldn't take his eyes off her, observing with fascination. John's tongue followed the path his finger had taken the moment before. Nia gasped, clutching the pillow on either side of her head. John ran his tongue up the slit again and found the swollen nub within. Nia moaned as his tongue circled first one way then the other. He went slow at first, lapping at her juices with fervor and letting the pleasure kindle in Nia's core. Then he picked up the pace, varying speed and movement until Nia's back was arching off the bed, and the noises she made reached a desperate crescendo. Her legs trembled as she let out one final cry before her muscles seemed to go slack.

John sat up, not bothering to wipe the shiny juices from his lips and chin.

"Your turn," he said nonchalantly to Logan.

Logan was startled out of his concentration. "What? But I don't know how."

"You just saw how."

"Don't you want to taste me?" Nia cooed, reaching one hand out to Logan.

He very much did. He tentatively took John's place between Nia's legs. His cock was throbbing painfully, begging for touch. He kissed the inside of her thigh slowly, making his way to the furled petals of her center. He glanced at Nia, whose eyes were closed. Then at John who nodded encouragingly. Logan bent and pressed his tongue flat to her entrance and she gasped, already primed and quivering from John's thorough attentions. He gave an experimental flick, then ran his tongue up the slit until he found the pulsing pink bud.

It was soft textured yet firm on his tongue, tasting slightly of overripe peaches. He swirled his tongue clockwise, listening to the soft gasps and moans that fell from Nia's lips. He flattened his tongue against her clit before swirling it back the other way. He continued, varying pressure, speed and technique, repeating the ones that got the best reactions. He was so focused on the task that an extra gush of fluid against his lips accompanied by a shuddering moan surprised him. He raised his head to look at Nia. She was flushed pink from head to toe, chest heaving as if she was out of breath.

"Holy shit," she gasped. "I thought you said you've never done this before."

"He's a very diligent student," John said.

Logan sat up. "Was it good?"

"Fuck. Just come here, pretty boy." Nia grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down to the bed. There was some shuffling as the three of them rearranged themselves on the narrow mattress, and Logan ended up on his back with Nia poised over him. She bent to kiss him, licking her own juices from his chin.

"Do you like how I taste?" she purred. Logan felt John's hand close around his cock from behind Nia, pumping him slowly .

"Yes…" Logan moaned. John placed something at the tip of Logan's cock and rolled it down over his shaft, sheathing it.

"Good. Because I'm going to absolutely fuck your brains out. Remember that sweet taste when you're screaming my name."

With one swift motion, she sank down, impaling herself on his cock, enveloping him in her wet softness. She let out a breathy exhale, and Logan almost came right then. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself together. Just like in the garden, he wanted this glorious sensation to last as long as possible. He wanted to make her come again, not to mention John who had barely been touched by either of them thus far.

Logan moaned deep in his throat as Nia began to rock her hips. Her skirts pooled around them like fallen petals, and her pink breasts bounced with every thrust. Logan was enveloped in her scent, the taste of her pussy still on his lips.

Logan's hips jerked up suddenly, burying himself as deep into her core as he could manage.

"Just like that," Nia moaned. "Fuck me…"

Logan did as he was told, thrusting his hips up to match her pace. John appeared by his side. He was still almost fully clothed but for that massive cock. Logan reached for it, running his fingertips up its length.

"I have a few more things to teach you," John said. He ran his fingers gently through Logan's hair, then gripped the soft blond waves tightly, pushing Logan's head into the pillow. He straddled Logan's face as Nia continued bouncing on Logan's dick.

John positioned the tip of his intimidating cock at Logan's lips. His grip on Logan's hair tightened further. Almost painful.

Logan was sure he looked terrified for a moment, then he steeled himself and nodded.

John plunged in, Logan's teeth scraping his monstrous girth. He pushed until Logan was choking on it then pulled back and plunged in again. The pulsing member cut off Logan's moans as it invaded his mouth. Logan's hips stuttered to a stop. But Nia continued to ride his dick as John fucked his face. Nia's voice filled the void that Logan's had left. Her sweet moans carried a rough edge, and somewhere in the back of Logan's overstimulated mind, he knew she was close again.

So was he. Somehow the choking shaft invading his throat was pushing him even closer to the edge of ecstasy. Drool ran down his chin. His eyelids fluttered, and he fought to keep them open. Nia cried out just as a crash of thunder shook the inn. Her supple insides clenched around him. He moaned around John's girth, and his hips jutted up to come deep in Nia's fluttering core. Logan's teeth scraped hard down John's shaft, and John growled at him. He pulled Logan's head roughly forward, forcing the entirety of his length down Logan's throat once more before pulling out completely.

John climbed off him, and Logan just lay there in a post-orgasmic daze. As soon as John was out of her way, Nia slumped down exhaustedly to nuzzle Logan's neck.

Logan felt John's fingers at the part where he and Nia were still connected. Nia lifted her hips to let Logan's softening cock slide out of her. Her warm breath feathered across his throat, and he stroked her back.

Logan watched John over Nia's shoulder as he rolled another sheath onto his own cock. Logan grimaced as he saw the angry red marks his teeth had left on John's shaft.

John knelt on the bed behind Nia, and she lifted her hips to meet him. He rucked her skirt up around her waist. His fingers ran languidly over the supple curve of her ass.

Nia's breath hitched, but she remained cradled against Logan's chest.

"John, I need you," she gasped.

John's deep-set eyes met Logan's, and he thrust hard into Nia's core. She cried out, filled to the brim with John's veiny girth. Her moan was guttural, teeth scoring Logan's collarbone as she clung to him for dear life. Logan pressed his cheek to her mussed red hair, but he didn't take his eyes off John.

John smirked as his next brutal thrust had Nia screaming his name. Her teeth dug harder into Logan's skin.

They were so different, these two people who had seduced him on a stormy winter night. John, powerful and efficient. Nia, luxuriously feminine. Yet both of them were so gorgeous and unfathomable.

John was breaking Nia apart bit by bit. Her whole body shook in Logan's embrace with every thrust. The noises she made and the friction of her soft stomach rubbing his cock was turning him on again. He cradled the back of her head with his wooden hand and reached down with the other. His fingertips found her sensitive bud.

"Mmmm, Logan…" she moaned, raising her head to kiss his throat. John smacked her ass lightly.

"You'd do well to remember who's fucking you right now," he growled.

"I can't help it. He's just so pretty," Nia whined.

John rolled his eyes and spanked her again.

"Our little pup is getting hard again," Nia informed him. Logan's fingertips were crushed to her clit on the next thrust.

"Is that so?" John smirked and pushed Nia gently forward till her and Logan's cheeks were pressed side by side. Her ample breasts heaved against his chest. John reached amongst Nia's rumpled skirts and found Logan's half-hard length. He stroked it slowly, bringing it back to its full potential.

Logan was already dizzily overstimulated as John positioned Logan's cock beside his own at Nia's entrance.

"Nia?" John asked.

Nia shivered but whispered, "Yes please."

John penetrated her first, then pushed Nia's pelvis down slightly to allow Logan to as well. Logan's mouth gaped wide in stunned ecstasy as he slid in beside John's substantial girth. Nia's walls fluttered and clenched as her body struggled to accommodate the stretch of both of them inside her. She whimpered.

John rolled his hips, and both Nia and Logan moaned in harmony. Logan's hips bucked up, relishing the pliant heat of Nia's interior that contrasted with the pulsing hardness of John's cock. Nia sucked the skin of his neck to muffle her moans.

John set a strong pace as Logan's hips stuttered again. As John pounded into her, it was almost as if he was fucking both of them at the same time. Both at the mercy of his masculine power.

Tingling ripples raced through Logan's nerves and stars broke across his vision. Nia's body shook uncontrollably in his arms, and she seemed to have lost her voice completely. Her mouth was simply open, lips pressed to Logan's sweat-slick throat in silent ecstasy.

Logan clutched their bodies tight together. Thunder rumbled as the tingles broke into a shattering orgasm.

"Fuck," John groaned. Nia's whole body clenched, and John smacked her ass again. "Fuck, Logan…" With one last powerful thrust, his body shuddered, and he groaned as he came.

John stayed like that for a moment before pulling out and collapsing to the thin sliver of mattress not occupied by Logan and Nia's exhausted bodies.

"Now who needs to remember who he's fucking," Nia mumbled, reaching over to smack John's chest.

"Like you said. He's just that pretty," John replied breathlessly.

It was barely light out when Nia burst back into the room. After recovering from the afterglow the night before, she'd hastily thrown her clothes back on and left to sleep in her own bed in the attic. After cleaning up, Logan and John had climbed under the covers together and dropped quickly into sleep.

"Get up!" Nia said now, closing the door behind her. John was alert immediately, already grabbing his trousers from where they lay crumpled on the floor. Logan blinked sleepily. He rubbed his sore jaw, slightly regretting letting his first time giving head be with a man with such a massive dick.

"What's happening?" John asked.

Nia's hand was still on the brass door handle, her peridot eyes wide and frightened. "There's navy soldiers downstairs, and they're looking for both of you."

That brought Logan to full consciousness. He fought with the blankets and finally extricated himself from the bed.

"How do they know we're here?" John hissed.

"Don't know, but they have your names and where Logan's crew is holed up, and they're on their way up right now. Hurry."

Now fully dressed, John grabbed his bag from beneath the bed. He tossed Logan's hook to him and shoved its box into another knapsack. Logan strapped on the hook and pulled his coat on over it, ripping the sleeve. John gave him the bag.

"How long do we have?" Logan asked.

"Just—" Nia's words were cut off by the distinctive sound of military boots on the stairs. "Shit. I've gotta go. I had fun last night. Don't die." She winked and disappeared into the hallway.

A blast of shockingly cold air hit Logan's back, and he turned to see John with one leg already out the open window. He tossed his bag onto the roof of the shop half a story below.

"Come on." John climbed the rest of the way out the window and dropped down to the roof with a fwump .

Logan pulled on his boots and crossed to the window. The world below was completely changed from the night before. At some point as they'd slept, the rain had turned to snow. A thick layer of pristine white blanketed the rooftops in contrast to the streets below which were already a churned up, muddy and slushy mess.

"Toss it!" John called up. Logan dropped the knapsack into his waiting arms. Spurred on by the pounding boots which were now coming down the hall, Logan climbed onto the windowsill and jumped down after it. The snow was not as fluffy as it looked. It crunched beneath him, and his feet slipped as they hit the thick layer of ice it hid. John caught his arm, steadying him. He handed the bag back to him.

"Best to split up," John said regretfully, and Logan felt a pang of similar emotion. He didn't have feelings for John, not romantic ones at least, but parting like this after the night they'd just shared seemed too abrupt.

A crash sounded from their room as the soldiers broke down the door. John leaned over and planted a peck on Logan's cheek. "Next time, it'll be just the two of us. Good luck." He winked and released Logan's arm. Then jogged to the edge of the roof. One of the soldiers was trying, and failing, to climb out the window after them, his rifle catching on the frame. Checking that there were no soldiers waiting on the street, John dropped down into the mud without a backward glance.