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Description
**Small warning - sexual themes.**

You watched the orange characters leap high towards a dark sky, their burning colour reflected in your eyes, the warmth caressing your face as you leaned close, mesmerized with watching the scorched logs being consumed by the flames, they strangled the bark and with coiled fingers and made it crumple into the embers below. The smoke rose steadily, surrounding you with the warm familiar sent of charred wood, it lingered all around you, clinging to your hair and entangling its sent with your braided locks.

You tossed two more pieces onto the fire, glancing at Connor's sleeping form, his breathing was steady, his face relaxed with lose strands of hair carelessly tossed across it, you smiled glad to see him resting so peacefully. While the Templar slept with a less restful expression, his face more of a frown, brows pinched and lips tight, his hair lose and a mess all about his face, you bit your lip, watching the flames move stealthily across his face, the shadows lingering in the natural contour of his cheeks. He stirred slightly, a small noise passing his lips, like a little moan that didn't sound right coming from that arrogant man. You hated to admit it, but he was noticeably very handsome, despite being old enough to be your father, no, you brushed the thoughts away, he was a Templar, and your friends father, it was completely wrong to look at him in that light.

You decided you would head to the lake to wash up in some privacy, it was nearing morning now and you couldn't sleep, so you hoped the walk might clear your head. You had obviously been watching Haytham's sleeping form for far too long, as a strange feeling had crept into your stomach, a certain...tension, worse still it had travelled without you realising into lower regions, and now was playing between your legs, soft tingles that you couldn't ignore. Yes, yes, a trip to the lake would certainly be good, and maybe you could relieve some of this...tension, although you were to ashamed to admit, even to yourself, that Haytham was the real route of it.

You stood from the branch, took your small pack, and tread carefully from the little glade where the three of you had set up camp, moving into the treeline. The night air was clear, scented only with the aroma of pine, the smell was strong, almost lingering in the back of your throat but not unpleasantly so. And tonight, like any, possessed the quality of most nights, a still, crisp, peace. The night was surprisingly light, making the forest a sombre entanglement of deep greens and black, and although this lacked the vibrancy of the woods in the day, you found a beauty of its own was present.

Twigs, ferns and fallen nuts crumpled underfoot as your boots shifted through the scattered pine needles, this complimented the music of the woods, of the owls calling, and the subtle breeze that tickled every leaf, most noticeable though were the crickets chirping in a steady unfaltering rhythm.

You spotted the thinning trees and then the narrow gleam of water between them, you continued until you reached the clearing were the lake was nestled, trees around it, standing like guardians circling the glassy water. A full moon was above, it rested high amidst the silky darkness, accompanied by stars, thousands of them, silver flecks that seemed to have each been placed with great care, despite looking scattered and unorderly, you found your gaze lost to the sky for a moment, the gentle murmuring water reminding you of your purpose here.

Swiftly you began to strip, so familiar with every strap of leather, every button and buckle, soon exposing more and more of your skin to the nights touch until you stood upon the gravely shore entirely naked, a shiver raced across your skin, it was colder than you thought, you leaned to dip fingers in the lake, it really was much colder than your anticipated thoughts at the warm fireside, so you stood still for a moment, adjusting to the new temperature.

"Not very aware for an assassin, are we, hm?" You froze for a second, that crisp accent sent more shivers through you than any amount of chilly weather, your face turned scarlet red immediately as you swept your eye down your naked body.

“H..Haytham?” You mumbled, all words or urges to scream had been swallowed by your embarrassment, your throat suddenly felt tight and your voice showed it, you practically chocked out his name, butchering the 'th' in the process.

“And it's a good thing too, I could have been anyone my dear.” He cooed in false concern, his voice mocking you with a sweet tone, and the gravel crunching on the lakes banks told you he was moving closer, your only ally in the moment were the clustered pebbles, whispering their warnings of his approaching presence, but you only stood there, back to him, to embarrassed to turn around and revile any more of your body to him, in instinct you hugged your breasts, trying to conceal them beneath your splayed fingers.

He was so close now, you could practically feel the warmth of his breath roll across your neck as he spoke. “Now surely you didn't come here simply to fondle yourself,” he whispered in jest, “or perhaps you did...-”

“I came here to wash up!” You blurted before his teasing could continue.

“Well,” he said moving back slightly, “don't let me stop you.”

“Um...can you go, please.” You practically squeaked.

“What? And leave you here alone when you're clearly incapable of hearing any threat approaching, no. Now stop being a brat and scrub up so we can both go back to bed.” He ordered.

“Not with you just standing there!” You protested in alarm.

“Well you don't want to be a grubby urchin and not wash simply because of my presence here, surely, I'd leave but you're hardly safe, anything could creep up on you it seems.”

'Apparently.' You thought, your face tightening into a frown. Without a word you turned, walked past him to your pack, and with trembling fingers took the pale rose soap, and the small wash-cloth, steeping back gingerly to the waters edge, wetting the soap and cloth, before rubbing the sweetly floral scented bar between your fingers, trying desperately to focus on the task, resisting the urge to shoot a glare at Haytham, simply because you were to afraid to actually face him in all your naked shame, you dragged flowery bubbles across your skin, doing your best to scrub up quickly.

“You know I'm not looking, there is no need to leave me hanging in angry silence.” Haytham's voice interrupted you, making you swirl around.

True to his word his back was turned as he stood turned from you, his hands folded neatly together behind him, as he swayed slightly.

“And here I was thinking of you as a complete pervert.” You were surprised by your own bravery, considering the burning flush of embarrassment you had yet to recover from, but your remark earned you a chuckle, a deep rolling timbre of heat and loveliness that greeted your ears. You hated yourself for the pang of disappointment that he was so well behaved, but you were quick to sweep that thought away. “You could have been a little more subtle though.” You thought aloud.

“Oh? And what lesson would that have been to you, a little shame is a small price for learning just how dangerous your actions might have been.” He corrected, quickly and efficiently destroying your complaints, or any further issues you were about to add.

You were disgusted to find that the bubbling, excited, tightness was dancing in your stomach, and making your groin tingle. You tried to block out the images of his fingers, how they would caress your thighs first moving towards, no, no you shouldn't be thinking this. You paused, brushing a finger between your folds, holding your breath as they slipped through the wetness, repeating the action once more and you knocked your clit, slipping a small gasp from your lips.

“What?” Haytham asked.

You froze. “Uh, nothing.”

“Are you sure, that sounded like...well never mind.” He trailed off, seeming to have began with a humours intent, but perhaps thought better of it and saw it as best not to pursue his line any further.

You bit your lip. “Are you married?” You asked, immediately cursing yourself afterwards, 'are you married' how pointless.

“Ah, no, yourself?” Although he seemed slightly taken-a-back, he recovered quickly returning the question.

“Oh, no.” You practically chimed, this was stupid, why were you being so stupid? You couldn't believe yourself, just then, snapping from your self scolding, you realised the wash-cloth had floated out. “Bugger.” You cursed under your breath.

“Problem?” He questioned.

“I..ah...um...” You looked at your soaped up body, you needed that cloth to help rinse, the lake was too cold for full on submerging.

The gravel crunched in warning as he strode over with assumed permission. “What's wrong.” He asked from your side, making your cheeks grow hot with sudden humiliation, so much for 'not looking'.

“I...my wash-cloth...gone.” You spluttered in a poorly fragmented sentence, which only aided in demonstrating how ashamed you were.

“I see. Here take this.” He said.

You turned, mentally cursing him for how close he was, your breasts threatening to bush his chest, you both stood in a strange unmoving gaze, his dark eyes held yours, making your swallow hard, ignoring the handkerchief he dangled between his thumb and finger, you studied his smouldering grey orbs, they resembled the ashes of the campfire, charcoal grey and burning.

Neither of you spoke, but in one uncalculated move Haytham caved to his emotions and brought his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his mouth devouring you as your head blurred with emotions, you immediately reciprocated his actions, moaning softly beneath his lips. His gloved fingers took hold of your chin and dragged you harshly closer to his mouth, leading you into a deeper and more fierce kiss. You grabbed at his chest, knowing this was wrong, but how could something so wrong feel so good, you moaned again against his mouth, drinking in the taste of him, smelling the smokey cling of the fire on his clothing, as well as the lingering aroma of pine needles that surrounded you both. Haytham bit down firmly on your bottom lip, making you winch in a delicious mingled sensation pleasure and pain, encouraging him to repeat his action, teeth sinking into your lip once again, bruising it, threatening to split the skin, before his tongue swept across it, the soft pad soothing the dull sting, before gliding across the crease between your lips, demanding entrance, you obeyed and parted your lips with another moan, tasting the pleasant fruity hint of brandy on his tongue as he assaulted your mouth, exploring every grove, making you gasp for air through your noise.

He reluctantly parted from you, sucking your bruising bottom lip as he moved away.

You both stood panting, still very close, and only now you remembered the drying soap on your body. “Thank you.” You said awkwardly, taking his handkerchief, and dragging it through the water, watching tiny ripples dance away at the disturbance. “I'm sorry.” You muttered, not daring to look at him.

“Why, I started it?” He bit back sharply.

You jumped slightly, wiping the soap away, in slow, firm, motions. “Then perhaps I'm just sorry I enjoyed it.” You admitted, tired of pretending that you had no feelings for the damn Templar.

“I should be glad, having a women like you say that is a compliment, I suppose.” His tone was darkly alive now, a certain want coating his tongue which he was clearly trying to restrain.

“A 'women like me'?” You questioned, almost feeling the heat of his gaze as you tried to rinse the last of the soap aggressively from you.

“You know what I mean.” He brushed you off, not really answering, though you gathered he meant so much younger, you had probably plumped up his pride with proving he could still pleasure a young women.

“That was a mistake.” You decided aloud, finally satisfied that you were soap free, you began splashing some water over your body for good measure and to help calm your quivering emotion. What would Connor think of you if he found out, he was over protective enough as it was.

“Oh?” You glanced to see his smile tighten, making his lips thin slightly.

“You're old enough to be my father, you are my best friends father, and you're a Templar...but still I can't stop thinking about you, imagining you, fantasising about you!” You practically wanted to scream, this needed to stop, it had to.

Haytham only smiled slightly, quirking an eyebrow as he removed his gloves. “Fantasising, hm.” He made a short laugh, brisk, barely one exhale of warm breath from his nose. “Maybe I could help you.” He dared to tease.

You felt a weakness in your knees, made worse when he stood behind you, calloused finger tips ghosting across your damp shoulders, sending tingles shuddering across your bare skin. He rested his chin in the crotch of your neck, placing feather light kisses there, the little water droplets from the lake being drank up in his mouth. You let your head fall back, exposing your neck to him, you didn't want to, but you the warmth of his breath puffing across your sensitive flesh was too good to resist. His teeth gently nipped at your skin, trailing at a leisurely pace towards your pulse, where his lips lingers, biting down hard before sucking that delicate spot, making you whimper in pleasure. His nips and kisses trailed to your ear. “So, what is your fantasy?” He questioned in a low, dangerous, whisper.

You didn't answer, too embarrassed, there were no specifics to point anyway, just him.

He lingered there, his hot breath tickling your ear and fanning down your neck in soft, little gusts. “Shy?” He teased, before nibbling the shell of your ear while his fingers traced your shoulders, slipping over your collar bones and gliding down the dewy contours of your body, barely brushing the sides of your breasts, finally resting on your hips.

His hands glided back, this time cupping your breasts, his fingers grazing your already stiff nipples, rolling them, almost painfully, between his calloused fingers, you moaned slightly, his actions causing shudders of thrill and pleasure shooting through you, your clit was practically buzzing with want, you pushed your back closer into his body, feeling his warmth through his clothes, wanting him closer and closer, you pushed yourself harder into the man, brushing up against him, craving more of his touch in even more intimate places.

His hands began to trail in a torturing pace downward, splayed fingers dipping down the small of your stomach, making your stomach flip with excitement, they teased you, hovering just above your pussy, making you buck upwards in hope of his fingers travelling down. “What?” He asked in an amused chuckle, making you blush slightly.

“Stop teasing.” You demanded, your body flustered enough.

“Uh-uh, be a good girl and say please.” His tone pure mockery to you now, making your jaw tighten.

“Please.” You murmured, your need defeating your pride.

“Please what?” He questioned, imitating your desperation in 'please' with a mocking innocents.

“Please...” you paused, your mouth was dry with want, your body practically screaming for him. Even though you didn't want to give into this, to him, you couldn't stop the lightening that sparked through your veins at Haytham's every touch.

His fingers brushed between your legs, taunting you with what his skilled fingers could do. “What?” He asked again, his voice a husky whisper.

“Touch me..” Your voice raspy in your defeated plea, your every limb trembling with want.

He slipped a finger through your petal soft folds, while his free hand rested against your stomach. You moaned immediately as he glided his finger down, circling your clit, teasing you by neglecting the area that most wanted attention. You were already wet and ready for him,and you could almost hear the prideful smirk in his tone as he voiced that. “God, you're soaking, you must have been even more excited than I thought.” His warm breath tickled you across your neck, rolling down between your breasts as he leaned forward to glance down at you.

At a torturous pace he slid one finger into you, curling it to run the most sensitive spot of your inner walls in a leisurely paced stroking, you let out a small gasp of pleasure, pushing down slightly to try and make him move a little faster, but the grandmaster seemed to being having none of it, pulling you still with his free hand, and kept ignoring your squirming. “Patience, my dear, I promise you'll enjoy it more this way.” He purred, sending fresh shivers trembling down your spine.

His free hand travelled from your stomach and finally began to rub over your sensitive bud of nerves, making your moan loudly, finally, you let your eyes slip shut as your head lulled back against his shoulder. Steadily he increased his pace, slipping a second finger inside of you to caress your inner walls, while your clit was overwhelmed with attention from his other hand, sending small shock waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. “Oh yes, yes.” You moaned, having lost any memory of your shame or embarrassment, all you wanted was the pleasure of release, which this man was so expertly building up for you.

A clenched knot had formed in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with every second that this man pushed you closer towards the edge. Slipping a third finger into your throbbing pussy was almost enough to make you scream, you bucked your hips to help yourself feel more of him, his finger that was playing with your clit became firmer, and built even more pressure in your stomach, there were almost too many feelings to focus on now, he had began nibbling your neck again, but it was all becoming one blur of pleasure, nocking you closer to your climax. “Cum for me.” He whispered, sending a quiver over your body as his fingers played harder with you, almost painfully.

You didn't care about anything in the world at this moment, you just wanted that sweet release he promised you. And as more senseless moans slipped from your lips, his name carried in many of them. You felt a blurring pleasure, the knot in your stomach unravelling as an orgasm washed over you in a crashing wave of pure ecstasy, your moans growing louder into soft cries of pleasure, your entire body left shuddering from your climax.

You almost slumped down, your legs shaky and weak, but a strong arm was curled around you, muscles tensing across your weak body to hold you close as he supported you. You felt a chilly shiver jump across your skin, the cooling water droplets were evaporating quickly now, the flush of warmth from the moment departing and leaving you cold in the night air. “We should get you properly dry.” Haytham murmured, taking the damp handkerchief from the waters edge to clean up his hands.

“Yeah.” You muttered in agreement, with the moment cooling down it was beginning to hit you what you had done, but strangely you didn't feel as guilty as before, something felt right. Weather it was a one off or something that would lead to more remained unclear, but it had been dreadfully enjoyable.

Haytham lead you to where your clothes and weapons were piled, taking the small towel from your bag and patting your skin gently. “Are you alright?” He asked, an amusement playing in his eyes.

“Yes...um,” you paused, making him arch an eyebrow in question, “what was that?” You said finally, beginning to pull your clothing back on.

“An act of lust and curiosity, I know women like to hear 'love', but I won't lie to you, you're a clever girl and would see through it anyway.” He said plainly.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, strapping your hidden blade back into place with fumbling fingers. “Sure...so what happens now?”

“Well that's up to you, my dear,” he took your wrist and began to sort the straps out himself, pulling them tightly into place, “although” he mused “it was rather unfair don't you think, I mean you gained all of the pleasure.” The corners of his mouth turned upwards to a small smile.

You let a small giggle pass your lips. “Well, perhaps that is a matter I shall have to do something about.”

Haytham grabbed handfuls of your shirt, drawing you closer to him. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

You smirked slightly “Certainly.” It was hopeless to deny him, better to be honest to yourself, whatever the consequences.

His eye fixing with yours, they looked lighter with the moonlight reflecting in them, almost resembling a darker tone of grey quartz. You tilted your head, leaning closer to graze your lips against his, earning you a longing look in his eyes as you pulled away.

He snatched your chin between his forefinger and thumb, admiring your face for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips, sweeping a tongue across his own with conscious want. He pressed his lips to your's in a fairly shallow kiss, far more soft than the first, little silken soft kisses, feather light, but a growing heat in your stomach made you push yourself closer to him, coiling fingers into the material of his clothes, snatching at it to drag him closer, with a mutual unspoken understanding the kiss deepened, your tongues beginning to fight in this lusty dance, soft moans slipping from you as he draws you tightly against him, his hands beginning to run down the curves of your body. Haytham pulled away suddenly, a slight pop noise of your mouths parting. “We should...stop, or I'll start undressing you and...”

“And, what?” You questioned breathlessly with a smirk, rubbing your lips against his cheek.

“...fucking you.” He admitted, the words rolling from his tongue in a dangerously lustful tone.

“No need to stop then.” You purred.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “As much as I would love too,” he began, pulling you back slightly to give you a more serious look, “it's almost dawn, and Connor will be waking up soon...looking for us.” His reminded dragging you back to reality, to exactly what you were doing.

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the mention of Connor, almost dreading that he would sense something between you and his father, he was your best friend and knew you better than anyone. You swallowed hard at the thought, mentally chastising yourself over what you had done, and worst still, all the things you wanted to do.

The soft, almost tickling feeling of Haytham's forefinger tracing the outline of your lip snapped you from your thoughts, you eyes turned upwards to his, he smirked slightly. “We'll have to have some more fun again, my dear.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips, barely lingering for a second before he pulled away, turning to walk back into the tree line, presuming you'd follow.

You hovered back for a moment, your heart pounding from the nights events that now lay behind you, irreversible and no doubt sure to make an appearance in the days to follow. What exactly would happen between you and the Templar was still unclear, but you found a strange longing tugging at your heart, and somehow, you knew, this path was one that was unwise to follow, but too deliciously tempting to turn from.

Description
**Small warning - sexual themes.**

You watched the orange characters leap high towards a dark sky, their burning colour reflected in your eyes, the warmth caressing your face as you leaned close, mesmerized with watching the scorched logs being consumed by the flames, they strangled the bark and with coiled fingers and made it crumple into the embers below. The smoke rose steadily, surrounding you with the warm familiar sent of charred wood, it lingered all around you, clinging to your hair and entangling its sent with your braided locks.

You tossed two more pieces onto the fire, glancing at Connor's sleeping form, his breathing was steady, his face relaxed with lose strands of hair carelessly tossed across it, you smiled glad to see him resting so peacefully. While the Templar slept with a less restful expression, his face more of a frown, brows pinched and lips tight, his hair lose and a mess all about his face, you bit your lip, watching the flames move stealthily across his face, the shadows lingering in the natural contour of his cheeks. He stirred slightly, a small noise passing his lips, like a little moan that didn't sound right coming from that arrogant man. You hated to admit it, but he was noticeably very handsome, despite being old enough to be your father, no, you brushed the thoughts away, he was a Templar, and your friends father, it was completely wrong to look at him in that light.

You decided you would head to the lake to wash up in some privacy, it was nearing morning now and you couldn't sleep, so you hoped the walk might clear your head. You had obviously been watching Haytham's sleeping form for far too long, as a strange feeling had crept into your stomach, a certain...tension, worse still it had travelled without you realising into lower regions, and now was playing between your legs, soft tingles that you couldn't ignore. Yes, yes, a trip to the lake would certainly be good, and maybe you could relieve some of this...tension, although you were to ashamed to admit, even to yourself, that Haytham was the real route of it.

You stood from the branch, took your small pack, and tread carefully from the little glade where the three of you had set up camp, moving into the treeline. The night air was clear, scented only with the aroma of pine, the smell was strong, almost lingering in the back of your throat but not unpleasantly so. And tonight, like any, possessed the quality of most nights, a still, crisp, peace. The night was surprisingly light, making the forest a sombre entanglement of deep greens and black, and although this lacked the vibrancy of the woods in the day, you found a beauty of its own was present.

Twigs, ferns and fallen nuts crumpled underfoot as your boots shifted through the scattered pine needles, this complimented the music of the woods, of the owls calling, and the subtle breeze that tickled every leaf, most noticeable though were the crickets chirping in a steady unfaltering rhythm.

You spotted the thinning trees and then the narrow gleam of water between them, you continued until you reached the clearing were the lake was nestled, trees around it, standing like guardians circling the glassy water. A full moon was above, it rested high amidst the silky darkness, accompanied by stars, thousands of them, silver flecks that seemed to have each been placed with great care, despite looking scattered and unorderly, you found your gaze lost to the sky for a moment, the gentle murmuring water reminding you of your purpose here.

Swiftly you began to strip, so familiar with every strap of leather, every button and buckle, soon exposing more and more of your skin to the nights touch until you stood upon the gravely shore entirely naked, a shiver raced across your skin, it was colder than you thought, you leaned to dip fingers in the lake, it really was much colder than your anticipated thoughts at the warm fireside, so you stood still for a moment, adjusting to the new temperature.

"Not very aware for an assassin, are we, hm?" You froze for a second, that crisp accent sent more shivers through you than any amount of chilly weather, your face turned scarlet red immediately as you swept your eye down your naked body.

“H..Haytham?” You mumbled, all words or urges to scream had been swallowed by your embarrassment, your throat suddenly felt tight and your voice showed it, you practically chocked out his name, butchering the 'th' in the process.

“And it's a good thing too, I could have been anyone my dear.” He cooed in false concern, his voice mocking you with a sweet tone, and the gravel crunching on the lakes banks told you he was moving closer, your only ally in the moment were the clustered pebbles, whispering their warnings of his approaching presence, but you only stood there, back to him, to embarrassed to turn around and revile any more of your body to him, in instinct you hugged your breasts, trying to conceal them beneath your splayed fingers.

He was so close now, you could practically feel the warmth of his breath roll across your neck as he spoke. “Now surely you didn't come here simply to fondle yourself,” he whispered in jest, “or perhaps you did...-”

“I came here to wash up!” You blurted before his teasing could continue.

“Well,” he said moving back slightly, “don't let me stop you.”

“Um...can you go, please.” You practically squeaked.

“What? And leave you here alone when you're clearly incapable of hearing any threat approaching, no. Now stop being a brat and scrub up so we can both go back to bed.” He ordered.

“Not with you just standing there!” You protested in alarm.

“Well you don't want to be a grubby urchin and not wash simply because of my presence here, surely, I'd leave but you're hardly safe, anything could creep up on you it seems.”

'Apparently.' You thought, your face tightening into a frown. Without a word you turned, walked past him to your pack, and with trembling fingers took the pale rose soap, and the small wash-cloth, steeping back gingerly to the waters edge, wetting the soap and cloth, before rubbing the sweetly floral scented bar between your fingers, trying desperately to focus on the task, resisting the urge to shoot a glare at Haytham, simply because you were to afraid to actually face him in all your naked shame, you dragged flowery bubbles across your skin, doing your best to scrub up quickly.

“You know I'm not looking, there is no need to leave me hanging in angry silence.” Haytham's voice interrupted you, making you swirl around.

True to his word his back was turned as he stood turned from you, his hands folded neatly together behind him, as he swayed slightly.

“And here I was thinking of you as a complete pervert.” You were surprised by your own bravery, considering the burning flush of embarrassment you had yet to recover from, but your remark earned you a chuckle, a deep rolling timbre of heat and loveliness that greeted your ears. You hated yourself for the pang of disappointment that he was so well behaved, but you were quick to sweep that thought away. “You could have been a little more subtle though.” You thought aloud.

“Oh? And what lesson would that have been to you, a little shame is a small price for learning just how dangerous your actions might have been.” He corrected, quickly and efficiently destroying your complaints, or any further issues you were about to add.

You were disgusted to find that the bubbling, excited, tightness was dancing in your stomach, and making your groin tingle. You tried to block out the images of his fingers, how they would caress your thighs first moving towards, no, no you shouldn't be thinking this. You paused, brushing a finger between your folds, holding your breath as they slipped through the wetness, repeating the action once more and you knocked your clit, slipping a small gasp from your lips.

“What?” Haytham asked.

You froze. “Uh, nothing.”

“Are you sure, that sounded like...well never mind.” He trailed off, seeming to have began with a humours intent, but perhaps thought better of it and saw it as best not to pursue his line any further.

You bit your lip. “Are you married?” You asked, immediately cursing yourself afterwards, 'are you married' how pointless.

“Ah, no, yourself?” Although he seemed slightly taken-a-back, he recovered quickly returning the question.

“Oh, no.” You practically chimed, this was stupid, why were you being so stupid? You couldn't believe yourself, just then, snapping from your self scolding, you realised the wash-cloth had floated out. “Bugger.” You cursed under your breath.

“Problem?” He questioned.

“I..ah...um...” You looked at your soaped up body, you needed that cloth to help rinse, the lake was too cold for full on submerging.

The gravel crunched in warning as he strode over with assumed permission. “What's wrong.” He asked from your side, making your cheeks grow hot with sudden humiliation, so much for 'not looking'.

“I...my wash-cloth...gone.” You spluttered in a poorly fragmented sentence, which only aided in demonstrating how ashamed you were.

“I see. Here take this.” He said.

You turned, mentally cursing him for how close he was, your breasts threatening to bush his chest, you both stood in a strange unmoving gaze, his dark eyes held yours, making your swallow hard, ignoring the handkerchief he dangled between his thumb and finger, you studied his smouldering grey orbs, they resembled the ashes of the campfire, charcoal grey and burning.

Neither of you spoke, but in one uncalculated move Haytham caved to his emotions and brought his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his mouth devouring you as your head blurred with emotions, you immediately reciprocated his actions, moaning softly beneath his lips. His gloved fingers took hold of your chin and dragged you harshly closer to his mouth, leading you into a deeper and more fierce kiss. You grabbed at his chest, knowing this was wrong, but how could something so wrong feel so good, you moaned again against his mouth, drinking in the taste of him, smelling the smokey cling of the fire on his clothing, as well as the lingering aroma of pine needles that surrounded you both. Haytham bit down firmly on your bottom lip, making you winch in a delicious mingled sensation pleasure and pain, encouraging him to repeat his action, teeth sinking into your lip once again, bruising it, threatening to split the skin, before his tongue swept across it, the soft pad soothing the dull sting, before gliding across the crease between your lips, demanding entrance, you obeyed and parted your lips with another moan, tasting the pleasant fruity hint of brandy on his tongue as he assaulted your mouth, exploring every grove, making you gasp for air through your noise.

He reluctantly parted from you, sucking your bruising bottom lip as he moved away.

You both stood panting, still very close, and only now you remembered the drying soap on your body. “Thank you.” You said awkwardly, taking his handkerchief, and dragging it through the water, watching tiny ripples dance away at the disturbance. “I'm sorry.” You muttered, not daring to look at him.

“Why, I started it?” He bit back sharply.

You jumped slightly, wiping the soap away, in slow, firm, motions. “Then perhaps I'm just sorry I enjoyed it.” You admitted, tired of pretending that you had no feelings for the damn Templar.

“I should be glad, having a women like you say that is a compliment, I suppose.” His tone was darkly alive now, a certain want coating his tongue which he was clearly trying to restrain.

“A 'women like me'?” You questioned, almost feeling the heat of his gaze as you tried to rinse the last of the soap aggressively from you.

“You know what I mean.” He brushed you off, not really answering, though you gathered he meant so much younger, you had probably plumped up his pride with proving he could still pleasure a young women.

“That was a mistake.” You decided aloud, finally satisfied that you were soap free, you began splashing some water over your body for good measure and to help calm your quivering emotion. What would Connor think of you if he found out, he was over protective enough as it was.

“Oh?” You glanced to see his smile tighten, making his lips thin slightly.

“You're old enough to be my father, you are my best friends father, and you're a Templar...but still I can't stop thinking about you, imagining you, fantasising about you!” You practically wanted to scream, this needed to stop, it had to.

Haytham only smiled slightly, quirking an eyebrow as he removed his gloves. “Fantasising, hm.” He made a short laugh, brisk, barely one exhale of warm breath from his nose. “Maybe I could help you.” He dared to tease.

You felt a weakness in your knees, made worse when he stood behind you, calloused finger tips ghosting across your damp shoulders, sending tingles shuddering across your bare skin. He rested his chin in the crotch of your neck, placing feather light kisses there, the little water droplets from the lake being drank up in his mouth. You let your head fall back, exposing your neck to him, you didn't want to, but you the warmth of his breath puffing across your sensitive flesh was too good to resist. His teeth gently nipped at your skin, trailing at a leisurely pace towards your pulse, where his lips lingers, biting down hard before sucking that delicate spot, making you whimper in pleasure. His nips and kisses trailed to your ear. “So, what is your fantasy?” He questioned in a low, dangerous, whisper.

You didn't answer, too embarrassed, there were no specifics to point anyway, just him.

He lingered there, his hot breath tickling your ear and fanning down your neck in soft, little gusts. “Shy?” He teased, before nibbling the shell of your ear while his fingers traced your shoulders, slipping over your collar bones and gliding down the dewy contours of your body, barely brushing the sides of your breasts, finally resting on your hips.

His hands glided back, this time cupping your breasts, his fingers grazing your already stiff nipples, rolling them, almost painfully, between his calloused fingers, you moaned slightly, his actions causing shudders of thrill and pleasure shooting through you, your clit was practically buzzing with want, you pushed your back closer into his body, feeling his warmth through his clothes, wanting him closer and closer, you pushed yourself harder into the man, brushing up against him, craving more of his touch in even more intimate places.

His hands began to trail in a torturing pace downward, splayed fingers dipping down the small of your stomach, making your stomach flip with excitement, they teased you, hovering just above your pussy, making you buck upwards in hope of his fingers travelling down. “What?” He asked in an amused chuckle, making you blush slightly.

“Stop teasing.” You demanded, your body flustered enough.

“Uh-uh, be a good girl and say please.” His tone pure mockery to you now, making your jaw tighten.

“Please.” You murmured, your need defeating your pride.

“Please what?” He questioned, imitating your desperation in 'please' with a mocking innocents.

“Please...” you paused, your mouth was dry with want, your body practically screaming for him. Even though you didn't want to give into this, to him, you couldn't stop the lightening that sparked through your veins at Haytham's every touch.

His fingers brushed between your legs, taunting you with what his skilled fingers could do. “What?” He asked again, his voice a husky whisper.

“Touch me..” Your voice raspy in your defeated plea, your every limb trembling with want.

He slipped a finger through your petal soft folds, while his free hand rested against your stomach. You moaned immediately as he glided his finger down, circling your clit, teasing you by neglecting the area that most wanted attention. You were already wet and ready for him,and you could almost hear the prideful smirk in his tone as he voiced that. “God, you're soaking, you must have been even more excited than I thought.” His warm breath tickled you across your neck, rolling down between your breasts as he leaned forward to glance down at you.

At a torturous pace he slid one finger into you, curling it to run the most sensitive spot of your inner walls in a leisurely paced stroking, you let out a small gasp of pleasure, pushing down slightly to try and make him move a little faster, but the grandmaster seemed to being having none of it, pulling you still with his free hand, and kept ignoring your squirming. “Patience, my dear, I promise you'll enjoy it more this way.” He purred, sending fresh shivers trembling down your spine.

His free hand travelled from your stomach and finally began to rub over your sensitive bud of nerves, making your moan loudly, finally, you let your eyes slip shut as your head lulled back against his shoulder. Steadily he increased his pace, slipping a second finger inside of you to caress your inner walls, while your clit was overwhelmed with attention from his other hand, sending small shock waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. “Oh yes, yes.” You moaned, having lost any memory of your shame or embarrassment, all you wanted was the pleasure of release, which this man was so expertly building up for you.

A clenched knot had formed in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with every second that this man pushed you closer towards the edge. Slipping a third finger into your throbbing pussy was almost enough to make you scream, you bucked your hips to help yourself feel more of him, his finger that was playing with your clit became firmer, and built even more pressure in your stomach, there were almost too many feelings to focus on now, he had began nibbling your neck again, but it was all becoming one blur of pleasure, nocking you closer to your climax. “Cum for me.” He whispered, sending a quiver over your body as his fingers played harder with you, almost painfully.

You didn't care about anything in the world at this moment, you just wanted that sweet release he promised you. And as more senseless moans slipped from your lips, his name carried in many of them. You felt a blurring pleasure, the knot in your stomach unravelling as an orgasm washed over you in a crashing wave of pure ecstasy, your moans growing louder into soft cries of pleasure, your entire body left shuddering from your climax.

You almost slumped down, your legs shaky and weak, but a strong arm was curled around you, muscles tensing across your weak body to hold you close as he supported you. You felt a chilly shiver jump across your skin, the cooling water droplets were evaporating quickly now, the flush of warmth from the moment departing and leaving you cold in the night air. “We should get you properly dry.” Haytham murmured, taking the damp handkerchief from the waters edge to clean up his hands.

“Yeah.” You muttered in agreement, with the moment cooling down it was beginning to hit you what you had done, but strangely you didn't feel as guilty as before, something felt right. Weather it was a one off or something that would lead to more remained unclear, but it had been dreadfully enjoyable.

Haytham lead you to where your clothes and weapons were piled, taking the small towel from your bag and patting your skin gently. “Are you alright?” He asked, an amusement playing in his eyes.

“Yes...um,” you paused, making him arch an eyebrow in question, “what was that?” You said finally, beginning to pull your clothing back on.

“An act of lust and curiosity, I know women like to hear 'love', but I won't lie to you, you're a clever girl and would see through it anyway.” He said plainly.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, strapping your hidden blade back into place with fumbling fingers. “Sure...so what happens now?”

“Well that's up to you, my dear,” he took your wrist and began to sort the straps out himself, pulling them tightly into place, “although” he mused “it was rather unfair don't you think, I mean you gained all of the pleasure.” The corners of his mouth turned upwards to a small smile.

You let a small giggle pass your lips. “Well, perhaps that is a matter I shall have to do something about.”

Haytham grabbed handfuls of your shirt, drawing you closer to him. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

You smirked slightly “Certainly.” It was hopeless to deny him, better to be honest to yourself, whatever the consequences.

His eye fixing with yours, they looked lighter with the moonlight reflecting in them, almost resembling a darker tone of grey quartz. You tilted your head, leaning closer to graze your lips against his, earning you a longing look in his eyes as you pulled away.

He snatched your chin between his forefinger and thumb, admiring your face for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips, sweeping a tongue across his own with conscious want. He pressed his lips to your's in a fairly shallow kiss, far more soft than the first, little silken soft kisses, feather light, but a growing heat in your stomach made you push yourself closer to him, coiling fingers into the material of his clothes, snatching at it to drag him closer, with a mutual unspoken understanding the kiss deepened, your tongues beginning to fight in this lusty dance, soft moans slipping from you as he draws you tightly against him, his hands beginning to run down the curves of your body. Haytham pulled away suddenly, a slight pop noise of your mouths parting. “We should...stop, or I'll start undressing you and...”

“And, what?” You questioned breathlessly with a smirk, rubbing your lips against his cheek.

“...fucking you.” He admitted, the words rolling from his tongue in a dangerously lustful tone.

“No need to stop then.” You purred.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “As much as I would love too,” he began, pulling you back slightly to give you a more serious look, “it's almost dawn, and Connor will be waking up soon...looking for us.” His reminded dragging you back to reality, to exactly what you were doing.

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the mention of Connor, almost dreading that he would sense something between you and his father, he was your best friend and knew you better than anyone. You swallowed hard at the thought, mentally chastising yourself over what you had done, and worst still, all the things you wanted to do.

The soft, almost tickling feeling of Haytham's forefinger tracing the outline of your lip snapped you from your thoughts, you eyes turned upwards to his, he smirked slightly. “We'll have to have some more fun again, my dear.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips, barely lingering for a second before he pulled away, turning to walk back into the tree line, presuming you'd follow.

You hovered back for a moment, your heart pounding from the nights events that now lay behind you, irreversible and no doubt sure to make an appearance in the days to follow. What exactly would happen between you and the Templar was still unclear, but you found a strange longing tugging at your heart, and somehow, you knew, this path was one that was unwise to follow, but too deliciously tempting to turn from.