The cabin was silent, save for the rhythmic, heavy rasp of Bram's snoring echoing from the bedroom. The fire in the hearth had died down to glowing embers, casting long, dancing shadows across the wooden floor.
Kael lay on the bearskin rug, staring at the ceiling beams. He had waited two hours. It was time.
He shifted, deliberately knocking his elbow against the wooden wall that separated the main room from the bedroom.
Thump. Thump.
He waited. Silence. Then, the creak of bedsprings.
A moment later, the bedroom door opened a crack. A sliver of pale light spilled out, revealing Elara.
She was clutching a shawl around her shoulders, but beneath it, she wore only a thin, white cotton nightgown.
It was worn from use, clinging to the heavy curve of her hips and the dark circles of her areolas visible through the fabric.
"Kael?" she whispered, stepping into the room on bare feet. "Is it the pain?"
Kael sat up slowly, letting the furs slide off his chest. He had used his Will to force his body temperature up, making his skin slick with sweat. He grimaced, clutching his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Elara," he rasped, his voice tight.
"It's... it's unbearable. The muscles have seized up. I can't even lay my head down."
Elara's face softened with pity. She hurried over, kneeling beside him on the rug.
The scent of her, sleep-warm skin and lavender filled Kael's nose.
"Let me see," she whispered, glancing nervously at the bedroom door. Bram was still snoring. "Where does it hurt?"
"Here. And the neck," Kael guided her hand to his trapezius.
Her fingers were cool against his feverish skin. As soon as she made contact, Kael triggered the System.
[Skill Activated: Sensory Amplification (High Output)] [Target: Hands]
Elara gasped softly. The moment she squeezed his muscle, a jolt of pleasure shot up her arms.
It wasn't sexual, not yet, but it was intensely satisfying, like the relief of stretching a cramped limb, but magnified ten times.
"Oh," she breathed, her hands working automatically. "You are... very tense."
"Harder," Kael groaned, leaning into her touch. "Please, Elara. Work it out. I need your strength."
She began to knead his shoulders, her rhythm increasing. The Sensory Amplification created a feedback loop: the more she touched him, the better she felt.
The friction of his skin against her palms felt addictive, like touching velvet and fire simultaneously. She found herself leaning in, her breathing syncing with his.
"Is that better?" she asked, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
"A little," Kael lied. He turned around, facing her. His eyes were dark, dilated.
"But the knot... it's moving. It's traveling down."
He took her hand and placed it on his chest, then slid it down over his sternum to his stomach. His abdominal muscles rippled under her palm.
"It's blocked the blood flow," Kael murmured, engaging his Cognitive Nudge.
"In the city, healers say you must chase the blockage until it's released. Otherwise, the toxicity spreads to the heart."
"Toxicity?" Elara's eyes widened.
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is. Unless drained." Kael guided her hand lower, past his navel, to the waistband of his trousers.
Elara froze. Beneath the rough fabric, she could feel the heat radiating from him. And she could feel the hardness.
A distinct, swollen ridge pressing against the cloth.
"Kael," she whispered, pulling back slightly. "That's... that's not a muscle."
"It's where the blood has gathered," Kael said, his voice desperate, pained. He looked at her with wide, trusting eyes.
"It hurts, Elara. It feels like I'm going to burst. Please. Just help me disperse it. You're a mother, aren't you? You know how to soothe a fever."
You're a mother. The words twisted in her mind. Mothers took care of bodies. They cleaned wounds. They soothed pain. This was just... biology. A medical issue.
"I... I don't know how," she stammered, though her hand didn't leave his stomach.
The heat from his groin was calling to her, the Amplification making her palm tingle with a need to touch.
"I'll show you," Kael whispered.
He undid the laces of his trousers.
Elara held her breath. She should leave. She should wake Bram. But the air in the room was thick, heavy with Kael's influence and her own confusing arousal.
Kael took her hand and slipped it inside the fabric.
When her skin touched him, Elara's back arched. The sensation was electric. He was hard, incredibly hard, and hot to the touch.
It was shocking, so different from Bram. Bram was rough, calloused. Kael was smooth, throbbing with a vitality that made her head spin.
"Just squeeze," Kael commanded softly. "Like milking a goat. Relieve the pressure."
The agricultural comparison shattered the last of her social resistance. It's just a task. Just a chore to help a guest.
Elara wrapped her fingers around him. She gave a tentative squeeze.
Kael hissed, his hips bucking off the floor. "Yes. Just like that. Don't stop."
She began to move her hand. Up and down. Slowly at first, then finding a rhythm. The Sensory Amplification was at maximum now.
Every stroke sent waves of pleasure not just to Kael, but to her. She felt a phantom pressure building between her own legs, a wetness soaking her nightgown.
"That's it," Kael whispered, watching her face. Her eyes were glazed, focused entirely on the motion of her hand. Her lips were parted.
"You're so good at this, Elara. So nurturing."
"It's... very swollen," she murmured, her inhibition melting away in the heat of the moment. She was fascinated by the way he twitched under her touch.
"Does this help?"
"Yes," Kael groaned.
"But you need to use... moisture. It's too dry. The blockage won't clear."
Elara paused. She looked around for a jar of oil or water, but there was nothing within reach.
Kael looked at her lips. "Use your mouth, Elara. Just to wet it."
"My...?" She stared at him, scandalized.
"Just to wet your hand," Kael corrected quickly, seeing he had pushed too far too fast.
"Or... spit. Please, Elara. It's burning."
Relief washed over her. Just spit. That's fine. That's medical.
She brought her hand to her mouth. She licked her palm, her tongue broad and wet, coating her skin in saliva. Then, she reached back down and gripped him again.
The slick sound filled the quiet room. Schlick. Schlick.
"Oh god," Kael moaned, louder this time.
From the bedroom, Bram's snoring hitched. He let out a snort, then turned over in his sleep.
Elara froze, her hand gripping Kael tightly. They both stared at the door.
Silence returned. Bram didn't wake.
The fear, instead of stopping her, acted like an accelerant.
The thrill of being caught, the taboo of holding another man while her husband lay ten feet away... it broke something inside her.
She began to pump him faster, harder. She wanted this to be over. She wanted him to feel better. She wanted to know what it felt like when he "released."
"I'm close," Kael gasped, his hand gripping her shoulder, digging into the soft flesh.
"Don't stop, Elara. Draw it out. Drain me."
"I've got you," she whispered, her voice unrecognizable to herself. She leaned in, watching the head of his cock glisten in the firelight.
Kael arched his back, and with a guttural groan, he released.
It wasn't a trickle. Thanks to his strong constitution, it was a heavy, rhythmic spurting. Warm, white fluid coated Elara's hand, spilling over her fingers, dripping onto the bearskin rug.
She stared at it, mesmerized. It was so much.
Kael collapsed back onto the furs, breathing heavily. He let the silence stretch for a moment, letting the reality of what she had done sink in.
Then, he reached out and took her messy hand.
"Thank you," he whispered, looking at her with pure, adoration.
"You saved me, Elara. The pain... it's gone."
Elara looked at her hand, covered in his seed. Then she looked at the bedroom door. Then back at Kael.
She should be horrified. She should be crying.
But the System pinged in Kael's vision.
[Corruption Progress: Elara]
[Current Level: 25% (Complicit / Guilty Pleasure)]
[Status: The Line Has Been Crossed.]
[Note: Subject is rationalizing the act as a "Medical Emergency."]
"I... I should wash up," Elara whispered, standing up on shaky legs. She clutched her sticky hand to her chest, protecting it, hiding it.
"Sleep well, Elara," Kael said softly. "And... thank you for your hospitality."
She fled to the washroom, not the bedroom. Kael listened. He heard the splash of water. But he didn't hear scrubbing.
He smiled, closing his eyes. She wasn't washing it off in disgust. She was washing it off to hide the evidence.
Tomorrow, she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. And that shame would be the leash he used to drag her the rest of the way.