If she fits...

With Xilonen officially integrated, the group sat in the forge yard and sorted priorities.

Citlali was almost certainly going to be the hardest.
Chasca’s current location was a complete blank.
That left Varesa — ancient name The Starving Hole — as the clearest next target.

Xilonen had finished a commission for her only a few weeks earlier, so she still had a reliable last-known area and a few practical details about the girl’s habits. It was enough to move on the same day.

They packed light and left the Children of the Echoes while the sun was still high.

Xilonen fell into an easy, circling pattern around the marching group, skating lazy loops and figure-eights as they walked. Her outfit had changed dramatically since the morning. The practical forge clothes were gone. She was now topless, full breasts moving freely with every glide, and the zipper on her remaining shorts sat so low that the swollen tip of her clit stood out in the open air, framed by the parted fabric. Every time she carved a turn close to Aether she made sure he got a clear look — a slow roll of her hips, a deliberate flex of her thighs, the wet glint of arousal already visible along the exposed folds.

She wasn’t subtle about it.

The same woman who had spent years treating sex as a solved, boring equation now kept drifting into his line of sight with open, playful intent, testing how quickly she could pull his attention away from the road. The Flame of Passion still flickered faintly around her in soft yellow pulses whenever she caught him staring.

Rosaria watched the display with mild amusement and zero jealousy.

They made good time, but Varesa’s last known stretch of territory still sat a full day’s travel beyond their evening camp.

Xilonen proved useful in more ways than one.

Beyond the precise, almost ruthless sexual instruction, she was simply a solid presence — dry-humored, competent, and unfazed by the group’s constant undercurrent of desire. She answered practical questions about Natlan’s terrain without drama, fixed a loose strap on Dehya’s gear without being asked, and traded quiet, sarcastic observations with Rosaria that left the nun smirking more than once. The initial awkwardness of the “weekend striker who suddenly joined” faded fast. She fit.

It did not take long for the other women to start treating her as the resident expert.

Requests became routine.

Lisa wanted a more refined method of edging that still allowed conversation.
Yelan asked about restraint positions that kept a partner completely secure without cutting circulation.
Ganyu shyly requested techniques that would let her stay functional and mobile even after multiple deep creampies.
Even Shenhe stood nearby one evening, silent but clearly listening, while Xilonen demonstrated a particular grip and angle on Rosaria.

By the second night on the road it had become a common sight: Xilonen standing or kneeling close by, voice calm and technical, while Aether worked one of his women exactly to her instructions. She would correct his hip angle mid-thrust, tell a girl when to clench or relax, or reach in to adjust a hand placement with the same focused detachment she once used at the forge. The Flame around her stayed low and steady, feeding on the creative satisfaction of refining living techniques rather than simple lust.

Xilonen never skipped her private lessons.

The moment the group found a gentle waterfall cascading into a clear, knee-deep pool, she skated straight over, caught Aether by the wrist, and pulled him under the falling water without a word of explanation to the others. Cool sheets of water pounded across their shoulders and backs. She shoved her already half-open shorts down, kicked them aside, and backed herself onto his cock in one smooth, greedy motion until he was buried to the root.

“External disruption training,” she said against his mouth, voice low and already rough. “Water changes sensation, balance, temperature. You adapt or you lose control. Now fuck me properly.”

It was an excuse and they both knew it.

She wanted him deep. She wanted the heavy stretch and the pressure against her cervix that only his full length provided. Xilonen locked her legs around his waist, using the slick stone wall behind her for leverage, and rolled her hips in the exact refined patterns she had spent days drilling into him. Water streamed between their bodies, diluting the thick strings of her arousal that still managed to cling and stretch every time he pulled back. The constant cold rush over heated skin made every thrust sharper, every clench more noticeable.

She guided him with short, breathless corrections even while she took him.

“Deeper— angle up— yes. Feel that soft resistance? That’s the front of the cervix. Don’t batter it. Press and grind until it softens and yields. I want you opening it, not just kissing it.”

Aether followed. He braced one hand under her ass, the other against the wet rock, and drove into her with long, focused strokes that ended in a firm, circular grind against the deepest point inside her. Xilonen’s professional tone frayed. Her cunt fluttered and gripped in greedy waves. The yellow-gold corona of the Flame flickered to life around her shoulders despite the water, hissing softly where the two elements met.

She was already sabotaging herself and barely noticed.

Every adjustment she demanded pushed him harder against the entrance to her womb. Every time she told him to hold still and pulse there, she was giving her own body more time to open and accept. The possibility that she might already be fertile sat unexamined at the edge of her thoughts; the creative fire that had reawakened in her simply wanted the most complete, irreversible result of the technique she was teaching. Getting bred by her own student had become an unspoken part of the curriculum.

Water poured over her open mouth as she came the first time, a hard, shaking climax that forced a hot gush of fluid out around his cock only for the waterfall to wash it away in the next instant. She didn’t let him slow. She dragged his head down, bit his lower lip, and kept speaking between gasps.

“Again. Keep prying it open. I want to feel you spurt straight through when you finish— no wasted seed, all of it forced past and dumped directly into a defenseless womb. Make me take it. Make the technique perfect.”

Aether’s control finally slipped under the combination of her words, the relentless water, and the way her cunt kept milking him. He buried himself to the hilt with a final heavy thrust, ground hard against her cervix, and came in thick, pulsing ropes. Xilonen cried out and clamped down violently, another orgasm ripping through her as she felt the heat flood the deepest part of her. For several long seconds she kept him locked there, rolling her hips in tiny, greedy circles as if trying to pull every drop further inside.

When she finally loosened her legs, cum and her own release mixed with the falling water and ran down both their thighs in pale streams. Xilonen rested her forehead against his, breathing hard, the Flame around her slowly dimming.

“…Acceptable progress,” she muttered, almost smiling. “We’ll refine it more tomorrow.”

She made no move to clean herself beyond what the waterfall already did.

That night, after the others had settled into sleep and only the designated watch remained awake, Rosaria claimed her usual place.

She was the only one who did this.

Every night since the proposal she waited until the camp was quiet, then slid under Aether’s arm and curled into the little spoon position against his chest. No sex, no performance—just the solid, possessive warmth of her body fitted to his, the blood-red stone necklace cool between them, her fingers loosely laced with his. Aether’s breathing always evened out faster once she was there. Rosaria stayed awake a little longer, eyes half-lidded in the dark, silently guarding the one privilege that still belonged only to her.

The rest of the pride knew better than to interrupt.

Xilonen, lying a short distance away with the fresh memory of the waterfall still throbbing between her legs, watched the quiet pair for a moment and filed the observation away with everything else she was learning about the man she had decided to keep.