Thorin's POV
The room was thick with heat and pleasure.
Perfume hung in the air like smoke, sweet and cloying, mixing with the sharper smells of sweat and wine and something darker underneath. Candles burned low on every surface, casting golden light across velvet cushions and marble floors and bodies tangled together in ways that would have shocked anyone who was not already inside these walls.
This wing of the stronghold was known only to a few. The doors were sealed. The guards outside had been chosen for their silence, not their skill. What happened in this room stayed in this room. That was the agreement. That was the price of entry.
I sat at the center of it all, a woman draped across my lap, another pressed against my side. Their hands moved over me with practiced ease, their mouths finding the places they knew I liked. I did not have to ask. I did not have to direct. They knew their roles as well as I knew mine.
