Sensory OverloadJULIUSBy the third day, the air in the royal bedchamber had grown heavy, thick with the intoxicating, musky scent of sex and the cloying sweetness of Rowan's desperation to have me inside him at every time. I decided he needed to be cleaned, though not for the sake of modesty. I wanted to see him in the light.I carried him into the private bathing chamber, which was made of white marble and steaming pools. The heat from the water rose in thick, humid clouds, clinging to the golden sconces. Rowan’s head lolled against my shoulder, his skin flushed a permanent, dusty rose. His eyes were half-lidded, his pupils still blown wide, tracking the movement of the steam with a dazed wonder."Water," he croaked, his voice sounding strained."Soon, my love," I whispered, sliding us both into the sunken pool.The water was hot, nearly scalding, but to Rowan, it seemed to be a mercy. He let out a long, shuddering moan as the heat hit his overstimulated nerves. I sat on the marble
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