Shay comes back to our current Templar hideout, a luxurious log cabin in upstate New York, after an exhausting day of assassin hunting. He's out of breath, leaning on the doorframe, and shivering. I bank the fire under my small cauldron where I make poisons and medicines, and rush to close the door behind him. I gently lead him to the fire after I take his weapons and he stands there staring at a random point in space, still shivering as I begin to remove his clothes, which are covered in snow. I throw them on an empty chair and push it closer to the generous fire burning in the fireplace to dry. Shay shakily sits down on the bearskin rug, and I remove his socks. I grab a blanket off the couch and wrap him in it while I go get him some dry clothes.
When I return, Shay is lying down on the rug, his back to me, facing the fire. There is a quick movement going on beneath the blanket. As I approach closer I see that he's touching himself. Without a word I place the clothes on a table and go to embrace him from behind. He reaches around and we begin to passionately kiss. He tastes like winter and gunpowder and it makes me moan. This in turn causes him to begin removing my clothes, until we are both naked on the rug.
Shay wastes no time mounting me, eager for a hard fuck. This man whose life I saved from a brutal injury I have never once doubted his love for me. Like a good boy, he pleasures me by first sucking on my neck, then my nipples, while rubbing his aching cock on me. I let him continue his ministrations, not giving him a signal until I hear a small, barely audible whimper escape his lips, begging permission to enter me. I take his hips between my legs, encouraging his takeover. He eagerly but gently pushes himself into me, growling at my sigh. He begins pushing with his hips until I pick up the rhythm, meeting his thrusts with my own. The terrain of his hungry manhood massages my inner walls with a pleasurable agony. Every thrust makes me want more of him, his skin, his scent, and oh god, those wanton noises escaping him, I want them all inside me. He's screaming, oh god, and it feels so wet, so good. "Scream for me, baby" I whisper to him, and he wants to feel the release, so he does. He screams with me and I know he's close because I feel his breathing hitch and his hips spasm as he gets closer to his breaking point.
My walls are so tight, nearly trapping Shay's enormous slick cock, and he can't hold back anymore, he releases and rides out the orgasm with head thrown back, letting go completely. His essence shoots into me, splattering out my hole and down my thighs onto the rug as his screams become short, desperate, and breathless. At this I too reach my end, shivering with pleasure under Shay's warm hardness, clinging to him like oxygen to breathe. We lay there, breathless, our bodies wet with perspiration and the juices of our lovemaking, and feel each other breathe, entwine our limbs to rest. Shay closes his dark eyes, trapping the light of the fire within them. We both fall asleep against each other's naked bodies, and I fall asleep to the sound of Shay's even breathing.
The next morning sees him sluggish, his routine displaying a kind of drunkenness. Not like a hangover, but more like after one receives an amazing massage. Shay smiles and laughs, and forgets to eat his porridge until I remind him it's still there. The other Templars at table cough feebly in an attempt to hide their amusement, all except Haytham, who wants to be displeased but in reality is trying to hide the smile threatening his stern features.
Shay was given extra rounds of practice drills that day, but something tells me he wouldn't trade last night for anything.