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Book shopping.
You swear it’s the one thing that gets him as aroused as what he professes you do to him. A trip to Sorcerous Sundries
In fact, Gale had made a point of frequenting Baldur’s Gate almost weekly now that the shop was restored after the Fall of the Absolute just to frequent it.
After all, it was only a portal away from your home in Waterdeep. And after all, they had that sizable donation in the Dekarios’ name for a whole new section of the store—a wing Gale wanted dedicated only to the sale of…
Books.
You can’t fight the way you roll your eyes as you enter the store. The rush of nostalgia it is to be here, the strange myrmydon standing guard near the door, the illusionary frogs and spiders just phasing into existence almost underfoot.
You used to bristle at the hubbub and chaos of it all, having had to endure so much affronting noise just for a few scrolls of Dimension Door or Chain Lightning. But now, you can feel the rush of warm memories as you squeeze Gale’s warm hand in yours.
A sort of magic to itself, being with him. Here. Heroes of Baldur’s Gate. And him, alive.
No greater work of magic than that. His tanned face grins like a schoolboy getting high marks on his essay as you stroll deeper into the cacophony of magic and mages.
“I wonder if it’s already stocked!” Gale practically vibrates on your arm with excitement as he leads you around the counter towards the back. A new little alcove is nestled in the wall, nice and big and wide. And indeed, the shelves are packed with tomes. Thick, heavy books on all sorts of magic.
Even the rare and forbidden.
No more hiding things away where they can be censored and forbidden to study.
Gale lets go of your arm, a long contented sigh falling from his lips. “Oh. Yes. This will do,” he proclaims with a nod. He clasps his hand behind his back, bouncing on his toes, eyeing the titles embossed in gold. Every now and then pauses, lifting a finger to trace a spine, muttering to himself something that makes him smile.
You just can’t fight it anymore. The need to roll your eyes. You lean your back against the shelves, the bumps of the books prodding into you. Slowly he gets closer. Still ignoring you. Still … caressing… the books.
A harumph from you doesn’t even draw his attention. “You trail your touch down their spines almost more lovingly than you do mine, husband.” So much vitriol in your voice, surely that would get his attention.
But Gale only nods. “Ah yes, very insightful, my love.” Oh. He just gives you a non-committal answer as he continues to preen and peruse his section.
Hells, you roll your eyes back so far, by Elminster’s beard, it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.
Not that he notices it, your wizard is pressed nose first into a brand new copy of the History of the Weave or something and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, nothing like the scent of fresh paper and ink my love,” he practically moans against its pages.
Oh. Oh. That was it.
“That is a boldfaced lie, Gale, and you know it,” you snap, glancing around. As this wing is yet to be opened to the public, you decide desperate times call for desperate measures. You slide yourself into his periphery, watching his warm brown eyes still skimming line by line of the book in his hands.
And you, you slowly pull your skirts up. The soft shush of fabric doesn’t draw his attention.
No matter.
You ruck them around your waist, and in your sudden passion, your ill-conceived idea at seduction, you can feel how wet you’ve gotten already. Wet at the idea of stealing his attention away from books… of honing his studies between your thighs rather than between the covers of tomes.
Even you can smell your arousal from here. But that musk you know he adores doesn’t draw his attention either. Handsome, bearded face pressed too closely to the new pages of his read.
You huff, hot and soaked the gusset of your underthings.
No matter.
You pull your panties to the side and slide your fingers into your slick. The bookcase at your back presses into you, stabilizing you as you thrust your fingers into your drenched sex. It squelches and sucks around your touch.
That. That arouses his attention at last.
Brown eyes snap up at you, and you watch them darken as he takes in this sudden sight. “My love… is such… debauchery necessary?” He croons, his velvet tenor rippling with interest. “Is it… warranted?”
His prominent nostrils flare, and his pretty, magical hands snap the book shut.
You tilt your head, parting your lips and… parting those lips down below with your fingers. The hot tangy scent of your sex makes his eyes widen, that practiced tongue darts out to wet his mouth. A blush dusts his tanned cheeks, and you catch a flicker of purple light under the collar of his buttoned tunic. Even dormant, the Orb acts as your favorite portent to when you’ve gotten Wizard beautifully flustered.
He leans in, standing close to cover your lewd engagements with his body from the entrance to this little nook. “What are you doing?” he hisses quietly and desperately as he fights to keep his eyes on your face.
“Proving you wrong, Gale. You said there was nothing like the scent of fresh paper and ink.” A bubbly laugh from your throat breaks into a whine as you fuck yourself on your fingers. “And I am just here to prove to the… delicious… contrary.”
You hear it, that husky inhale and exhale. The one that means you’re testing his decorum. And you glance at the opening to the store behind him.
“Come on, Wizard. Don’t tell me you refuse to christen this wing Dekarios style?” You pull your fingers from your slick and slide them to your mouth. Pursed lips suck around them, and you close your eyes to taste yourself.
Testing him further. Harder. Releasing your fingers with a pop as if it’s the sweetest candy you’ve been savoring. “One can’t always be a gentleman, you know…”
Oh, the way you purr his own words back at him, you see the snap of his control behind his warm brown eyes.
Gale descends on you, shoving you back against the books as he casts some Invisibility with barely an audible word. More of a snarl.
His tongue parts your lips, pressing in as he seeks to taste your slick. Truly his favorite treat. A groan rumbles in your mouth as he works your lips like he usually works your cunt… sucking and lapping over your tongue and between your teeth as he grips your chin. It’s a commanding pinch to your cheeks. One that keeps you just how he wants you. How he likes you.
His other hand reaches between you, knuckles pushing into your sex as he unlatches his belt and frees his cock.
Gods, you swear you can smell him, that musk of his own sex. You don’t even have to look to know how thick and flushed and leaking he is.
“Want to tell me what has captivated your interest now, my love?” you can’t help but jeer, to taunt as you reach for his cock and take him in a tight fist. His grunt, the way it leaks hot seed over your knuckles makes your mouth water. He huffs in your ear, thrusting into your fingers.
Reduced to silence for fucking once.
“Just make sure you keep quiet, my Wizard. Wouldn't want any books blowing up or pesky patrons sneaking into sections that aren’t open to the public.” You rasp quickly in his ear, flashes of purple in both your faces make you smirk. Slowing your strokes, he elicits a little whine, hips grinding into you.
Gale sighs your name, warm lips pressing to the corner of your twisting lips. “Please… let me inside you. You know how captivating you are, it’s you….”
But you only loosen your grip on his cock, letting his cockhead barely breach your sex as you wrap a leg around his hip.
“Say it again, my love. Who has your full attention now, hm?” you chuckle, a dark murmur against his desperately panting lips. “Whose musk is it you crave? These cold pages?”
Shaking his head, he whines loudly again. “You, it’s you, my love… fuck… please…”
You sigh in pleasure as his voice breaks, as he begs. “Mm, you plead so prettily, my husband,” you murmur, savoring the undivided attention and the total control he allows you to have. And you reward him by guiding his cock to sink into your warm, waiting sex.
He lets out a loud groan, thrusted in to be fully seated, and you shudder. A quick hand over his mouth and you barely manage to stifle another as he starts to slide back out and bury himself inside once more. His beard tickles your palm, his breath is searing on your fingers. But best of all, he leans back a little to fix his dark, dilated brown eyes on your face.
You know you’re a sight, hair pushed up against the rainbow of book spines, lips parted as you pant with each shove of his body against yours. Into yours. “You’re going to need to fuck me harder than that to get me to come… and after all that attention you’ve given mere books, I’d hate to think I’m second fiddle to just some parchment and ink.”
“Gods, you're insufferable. Insatiable,” he turns his head to free his mouth and growls into your mouth, but he obeys. His hips snap harder and his hand digs hard into the plush of the thigh at his waist. With a snarl, he grabs it and lifts it, splaying you wider, fucking you deeper. “Such a wanton wife, jealous of a few books?” his voice rumbles in his chest, that dangerous play of dulcet tones from his throat tickles almost as much as his beard.
With a husky laugh, you reach a hand to dig your nails into the thrusting muscles of his ass. “You know what you always say… no rest for the wicked, and if being jealous makes me wicked….” You sigh as you turn to capture his lips with your own. “Give me no rest. You speak… I burn for you, my husband.”
Lips devour yours. His hips angle just right to slam his cock head against that secret little bundle of nerves in your wall. Like it’s some magic trick, the way he always finds your most pleasurable spots. Whining, he can’t fight the noises you pull from his practiced tongue as you flutter and clench on this thickness inside you.
Invisible you may be, but silent you are not. Not as he grunts with that velvet voice; not as his hips meet yours with wet slaps of his skin, his balls against your sex spread wide for him to fuck.
His groans echo against your tongue and his practiced tongue chokes your throat. And try as you might, you can’t keep your own voice from sounding. Whines and whimpers as he takes you deep, thrusting hard enough to send a book falling from beside you.
And Gale pays it no mind. “You’re quite ready for me, aren’t you, my love?” Hands dig into the underside of your thigh as he insists on hiking it higher. His pace drives into you faster, that thickness filling you, splitting you as he snaps fast and deep.
Rutting and sweating, even if your sounds don’t give you away, the flushed and well-fucked looks on your faces will… not to mention that delicious smell of him.. on you, in you. The scent of your coupling makes your mouth water, and you drool against his panting lips.
Deep in his chest, he moans loudly, and your belly burns with a need to be filled. Fire in your veins, you don’t even notice the way the books tumble now, the way they prod into your shoulders, as if they accuse you now of being too captivating in their stead.
“I wonder what these hallowed walls would say if they could speak. How they’d put you down in history as Mrs. Dekarios, a wanton whore for her wizard, hmm?”
His voice breaks in time with your body as it clenches and bends into him. All you can do is huff your agreement… “Yes… Hells below, yes…” you keen into his kiss, a burst of a scream on your tongue before he gags you with his own, so practiced it shuts you up even as you close in on your orgasm for him.
He pulls back, replacing his mouth with the hot, sweating palm of his hand to silence you. “Don’t close your eyes. Not for a moment.” His voice is husky with his own release so close, breath hot on your face as he hisses. “I want to look into your eyes as you come undone for me, my love.”
You obey, for your wizard you’ll always listen… eventually. Half lidded and stars in your eyes, you look into his face. Sweat on his brow and a heat to his cheeks, you drink in the sight of him, studying every detail of your face.
“There you are,” he hiffs, smiling as his own pace grows stilted. Sloppy. “Your flushed cheeks. Your bright eyes. Your glistening skin… All my favorite ways you look as I bring you to bliss.”
He snaps, the final word is half-growled as he thrust home oh so deliciously deep. His hand slides off your mouth, his whole frame shuddering as he fucks into you, your ass slamming against the bookcase as he roughly pushes you in his climax.
You clench and gush, biting into your own lips until you taste blood as you obey. As your body responds to his incantation or an order. Lost in his eyes, you shudder as waves of pleasure threaten to make you collapse.
His lips tremble, your name on them like a prayer as he finally floods your insides. You swear you can feel the way he twitches within your fluttering, clenching walls. Not enough. You’re far too enamored with him to have any distance between your bodies.
One hand in his dark waves, one hand on his clenching ass, you pull him in harder. Kissing his gasping lips, shoving his cock further inside you until it kisses your cervix… at last. You sigh, more contented in this store than ever have you been before, especially as his seed begins to drip down your standing leg.
You feel his lips pull into a sated smile, and gods as you hear other patrons passing the entrance to this new wing of the store, you hope to hells he’s kept his concentration.
He must sense your unease. “Don’t fret, my love. As captivating as you are, it takes considerably more distraction for me to break a spell.”
But by the way one woman stops to gawk from the door, eyes wide before she scurries off, you suspect otherwise.
You pat him on his soft bearded cheek. “Better check. I might be more distracting than even you can account for… Gale of Waterdeep.” You giggle, too blissed out to care if others witness your aftermath.
Gale pauses, lifts his head as if to sense his surroundings, then bites his lip. “Ah, I stand corrected.” A droll comment, he laughs breathlessly as he fixes her cock back in his pants, straightening your skirts. “I’d offer to clean you up, but I rather think I like the idea of you leaking me as we walk the rest of the store, hm?” He murmurs as he tucks you sweat-streaked hair behind your ear.
Then with the demurest of kisses to your bright pink cheek, he offers you his arm. That smug glint in his eyes, that rakish turn of his smile, tremors roll through you again.
No. You laugh as you take his arm. He’s certainly not always a gentleman. How fortunate for you.