Chapter 84

I woke to weight pressing on my legs and a slow, warm, impossibly pleasant heat enveloping my groin.

Pre-dawn light washed the room in pale blue. The sky beyond the windows was just beginning to soften, that quiet hour before the world stirred. The bed felt strangely empty at my sides - no familiar curves tucked against my ribs, no warm backs pressed to my chest.

Instead, the blankets shifted at my waist.

Two larger shapes. One smaller.

A stifled giggle.

I lifted the sheet.

Three flushed faces were pressed together, cheeks brushing, lips glistening. Mirri’s dark, wavy hair spilled across Ashlara’s dark pixie cut, Serah’s crimson hair a silken curtain. Three sets of eyes - mischievous, heated, devoted - looked up at me.

Their tongues slid in unison along my length.

I hissed through my teeth as they reached the tip. Serah and Ashlara drew back slightly, their lips grazing me as they retreated, while Mirri parted her mouth and took me in.

Inch by inch, she swallowed me with greedy enthusiasm, her small frame bowing forward as she worked me deeper. My groan rumbled through the quiet room as she took me all the way down, nose pressed to my skin, throat flexing around me. For a heartbeat she held me there - tiny hands braced against my thighs - before she rose for air.

I stared down in awe. Someone so small, so lithe and compact, swallowing me whole.

She licked her lips, eyes bright. “Now you try, Ashie.”

Ashlara leaned forward, her powerful shoulders rolling as she lowered herself. Her tusked mouth closed around the head, tentative at first. Her tongue - slow, deliberate - circled me - tasting, learning.

She lowered further.

Halfway down she paused, throat tightening as she swallowed. I groaned at the heat of her mouth, the contrast between her strength and her careful restraint.

Another inch.

Then she hit the back of her throat.

She gagged, pulling back with a soft pop, blinking tears from her dark lashes. Her broad hand wiped her mouth before she leaned in again, stubborn and determined. This time she **** herself down just a little lower, holding me there despite the tremor in her body. She coughed, drooled, tears streaking down her cheeks - but she didn’t pull away.

Finally she withdrew, breathing hard.

“Not bad for your first time,” Mirri teased.

Ashlara blushed and wiped her lips again, only for Mirri to surge forward and kiss her, mouth devouring the orc’s, tongue pressing inside. Ashlara froze for half a second before kissing her back, big hands framing Mirri’s narrow waist.

Meanwhile, Serah had claimed me.

Her long, elegant fingers wrapped around me, guiding me to her lips. She took me with the same composure she brought to everything - calm, deliberate, confident. Like Mirri, she swallowed me fully, throat opening around me as if made for it.

It quickly became clear that she didn’t have a gag reflex.

Her tongue moved in slow, sinuous waves, undulating along my length. I gripped her crimson hair, hips twitching involuntarily.

“I’m close,” I warned.

Her amber eyes never left mine as she tightened her suction.

I threw my head back, breath stuttering as I came. Pulse after pulse poured into her, my hips bucking helplessly. She swallowed every spurt, throat working steadily, not wasting a single drop. Even after I finished, she continued, tongue teasing, drawing out every last tremor.

When she finally released me, it was with a soft, wet pop.

She swallowed and smiled - sultry, satisfied.

The three of them shifted, rising from beneath the blankets.

“I’m the luckiest man alive,” I murmured.

“Happy birthday,” Mirri said with a wicked smirk. “Hope you liked your first present.”

“Oh, we’re not done,” I growled, grabbing her shoulders and hauling her up to me.

I rolled her onto her back, my still-hard length sliding through the damp heat between her thighs. Mirri was petite, all delicate curves and toned little limbs, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, her small breasts rising with quickened breath.

“Someone’s happy,” she teased.

I kissed her hard, dragging myself through her slick folds until she was a mess beneath me. Then I pressed in.

Her grin vanished into a breathless moan.

Halfway in on the first thrust. All the way on the second.

I kissed down her throat, across her collarbone, taking one small nipple into my mouth. My hips moved in shallow strokes while my hands kneaded her tight little breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples until her moans turned high and frantic.

I abandoned her breasts, my mouth claiming hers as I kissed her with passion. Our tongues wrestled for dominance and my hips continued their short thrusts. When we parted, I slammed deep inside her, and she came.

Her back arched violently, a scream cut off mid-breath as pleasure overtook her. I drove into her again and again, riding her climax as her tiny body spasmed beneath me, muscles clenching and fluttering.

She went limp in the aftermath, breath ragged.

Behind me, Ashlara and Serah were kissing again, but their eyes had drifted to Mirri’s trembling form.

I turned to Ashlara.

I slipped my arm around her waist, flipping her onto her hands and knees. Her body was magnificent - tall, broad-shouldered, muscular without losing her curves. Her short dark hair was tousled and her powerful hips lifted as she braced herself.

I dropped to my knees behind her and buried my face between her thighs.

Her scent was intoxicating.

My tongue pushed into her, lapping, devouring, thumb circling her swollen clit. She growled low in her throat, hips rocking back against my face. Her heavy breasts swung as she moved, green skin flushed beneath her scars.

When her legs began to tremble, I rose, lining myself up and pushing in slowly. She groaned as she stretched around me.

Another thrust.

Deeper.

Soon I was buried to the hilt, her powerful walls gripping me. I set a steady pace, long strokes that made her breasts sway and her groans echo through the room.

Ashlara always had a hair trigger on her orgasms, and after my oral care she was already nearing her release.

Her climax hit hard.

Her muscles clamped around me so tightly I couldn’t hold back. I thrust deep and came inside her, filling her as she milked me with ruthless strength. She roared, back arching, hands clawing into the bedding.

Even after I finished, she kept shaking around me, waves rippling through her body. After minutes, she collapsed forward, I slipped free - half hard.

I grabbed Serah’s leg, pulling her to the edge of the bed. We kissed deeply, her lips soft, elegant, controlled. As I hardened again, I pressed into her.

Her body was long and graceful - full breasts, smooth skin, crimson hair spilling around her shoulders. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me deeper.

I ground into her slow and deliberate at first, then faster. She cried out - clear, ringing notes that grew louder as I angled myself to find every sensitive place inside her.

Her climax rolled through her like a tidal wave. Her limbs locked around me, holding me captive as she shuddered. I kept grinding, wringing every tremor from her until she finally went slack.

I strode back over to Mirri, who had mostly recovered at this point. “Time for round two,” I said.

She leapt off the bed and into my arms. Her legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck, and she lowered herself onto my cock. She squealed as I parted her folds and bottomed out inside her. I gripped her ass tightly, reveling in the firmness of the small globes.

She giggled, laughter mixing with moans as I lifted and dropped her along my length. She was so light, so tight, I could hold her effortlessly. Her body clung to me as I thrust upward into her again and again.

Her breath turned ragged. Her grip loosened as she neared her edge, head lolling like she was drunk. I wrapped my arms around her lower back to keep her from falling.

My thrusts grew frantic. I came again, pouring my seed into her as her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened in a silent cry. She convulsed around me, clinging weakly as I filled her.

When the final tremor passed, I softened and slipped free.

I staggered to the bed, all strength leaving me as we both collapsed onto the mattress in a tangled heap of limbs and flushed skin, breathless and spent.

“Happy birthday to me,” I gasped.

* * *

I hauled water into the large, sunken tub until my arms burned, then used my magic to heat it until steam curled lazily toward the ceiling. The water was just shy of scalding - the way I liked it. We cleaned up slowly, unhurried. Hands lingered. Lips wandered. Bodies pressed and slid against one another beneath the rising steam. There was laughter and teasing, the easy intimacy of people who knew every inch of each other and weren’t shy about it.

Eventually we dried off, dressed, and drifted into the rhythm of the morning. Mirri claimed the kitchen with the authority of a general. Serah went to rouse the children with her usual composed warmth. Ashlara stepped outside for air and a quiet walk. I busied myself with small winter chores - tightening hinges, checking shutters, stacking wood - simple tasks that made the house feel steady.

After an hour or so, I coaxed Adhaneth into her human form. “If it gets overwhelming, you can hide,” I promised her. “But you’re part of this family too. You’ve saved us more times than I can count. I want you here.” She hesitated, then nodded.

Even Elise joined us. She rarely left my demesne, but the children knew her now. Some still shifted uneasily beneath the weight of her aura, but others didn’t. Lilae, though timid at first, warmed up to her quickly. Torvek stood a little straighter around her, as though meeting discomfort head-on was a point of pride. Tib, smallest and youngest, was fearless. He had been from the start.

Mirri’s breakfast was incredible - vegetable pie rich and savory, crisp bacon, and oatmeal sweetened with a bright orange paste that tasted like apricots.

As we ate, Mirri suddenly clapped her hands together. “So,” she announced brightly, “we don’t know what Nomads do for birthdays, so we all talked about what we do—and made our own plan.”

The kids grinned in unison. Torvek tried very hard not to.

“To start, Brinja and Elarion are braidin’ everyone’s hair. Yours too. Even Torvek is gettin’ a cute little braid.”

She stretched up on her toes to ruffle his hair. He pulled away with exaggerated dignity, but he didn’t argue.

“Then Issa’s paintin’ faces. After that, Mak, Torvek, and Ashie are kickin’ off a trial of strength. Then we rest, have a big meal, do the Rite of the Shared Cup, and enjoy a bonfire with dancin’!”

She practically vibrated with excitement. “So eat up!”

After breakfast, the two elves went to work. Elarion’s fingers were steady and precise, especially on longer hair, while Brinja moved with quiet mastery. She handled short hair as easily as long, weaving intricate patterns so complex I couldn’t tell where they began or ended. Lilae wore a braid-on-braid crown that made her grin every time someone looked at her. Issa’s hair was gathered into a twisted fishtail that shimmered softly against her scales. Mak’s waterfall braid framed her strong features. Torvek bore twin cornrows with stoic resignation. Tib kept touching his simple side braid as if to make sure it was real.

Mirri’s box braids highlighted her already bright expression, Ashlara’s braids spiraled tight and fierce along her scalp, while Serah’s crimson hair had been drawn into a long dragon-tail braid that fell like flame down her back. Elise’s white hair had been shaped into an impossible rose that somehow held together without collapsing and Adhaneth’s braids curved like a serpent through her silver hair. I ended up with a braided topknot.

Brinja finished by braiding Elarion’s hair into a faux hawk and weaving her own into paired Dutch braids that met at the back.

We admired one another - turning heads, leaning close, marveling at the sheer variety and skill on display.

Then Issa took her turn with paints. She didn’t make us look ridiculous - she made us look legendary. Torvek received sharp tribal markings along his cheeks that made him look even more imposing. Mak wore softer tribal designs across her brow and Ashlara’s markings ran in braided tribal lines. Delicate vines circled Brinja’s hairline, while roots crept down Elarion’s cheek and neck. Lilae had stars beneath her eyes and a radiant sun above them, and Tib bore wave patterns across his cheeks and hands.

Mirri’s eyes were framed in flowers and curling vines. Serah’s face shimmered with painted gold scales that caught the light. Adhaneth’s forehead became a soft blue sky with white clouds, her cheeks rolling green hills. Elise wore arcane-looking sigils tracing the edges of her face, subtle but unmistakable. Around my own eyes, Issa painted feathers that flared toward my temples. For herself, she highlighted some of her blue scales in shifting colors that gave her an iridescent glow.

The result was breathtaking. We stood there staring at one another like we’d stepped out of some half-forgotten myth.

There was time to spare before lunch, so I filled it the only way I knew how - with terrible dad jokes, exaggerated puns, and deliberate butchering of the languages I was learning. I made up nonsense phrases just to make Tib giggle. I sang ridiculous songs with exaggerated theatrics until Mirri threatened to throw something at me. Laughter filled the house, warm and bright.

At one point, I noticed Adhaneth approach Elise. They spoke quietly, their heads bent close together. Elise stiffened, something tightening in her posture, and then she vanished without warning.

I frowned and stepped aside to speak with Adhaneth.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

The winged woman looked ashamed. “I did not mean to upset her,” she said softly. “I only wished to apologize. And offer condolences.”

“Condolences for what?” I asked.

Elise reappeared beside us, tome tucked under one arm, quill and ink in hand. Her gaze landed heavily on Adhaneth, steady and intense.

“Excuse us, Seth,” she said evenly.

She took Adhaneth’s hand and, without another word, drew her into the keep.