For nine days they rode through the scorched Cinderveldt, and every night Lira felt more aware of her own body than she ever had in her whole life.
She had always been the strong village girl who could carry water buckets and outrun boys twice her size, but she had never truly looked at herself until now, until she caught Kazeal's and Seraphin's eyes lingering when she bent to tighten a saddle strap or stretched after a long day's ride.
Lira was soft in all the places the world had never had time to harden.
Full, heavy breasts that swayed gently when she walked, round hips that filled her worn leather breeches to bursting, a plush little belly and thighs that pressed together when she sat. Her waist nipped in sweetly between, making the curve of her backside even more dramatic. Sunlight loved her: it turned her skin honey-gold and made the faint sheen of sweat trace shining paths down the deep valley between her breasts.
Her face was still the face of the girl who had never been kissed until a few nights ago: big storm-grey eyes framed by dark lashes, cheeks that flushed rose at the smallest compliment, lips naturally pink and a little swollen from nervous biting.
She looked, Seraphin had whispered once, like innocence poured into an hourglass meant for sin.
And she was still a virgin.
Every slow, burning glance from Kazeal , every teasing brush of Seraphin's fingers, made that fact throb between her thighs like a second heartbeat. She wanted. Gods, she wanted. But the wanting scared her as much as it thrilled her.
Tonight, camped on the final ridge above the glowing Cradle, the wanting finally won.
They had eaten, laughed, traded teasing licks of lizard grease from each other's fingers. Now the violet mage-fire burned low and the lava rivers far below painted everything in shifting crimson.
Seraphin stretched like a cat, peeling off her sweat-soaked leathers until she stood in nothing but moonlight and that wicked little smile. Her body was sleek danger: high, perfect breasts, tiny waist, hips that begged to be gripped.
Kazeal followed, shirtless, scars and muscle gleaming, trousers riding low enough to reveal the sharp V of his hips and the thick line of him already straining against the fabric.
Lira sat on the cloaks, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, cheeks flaming.
Seraphin knelt in front of her, gentle for once. "Still sure, little ember?"
Lira voice came out small. "I've never… not with anyone. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Kazeal moved behind her, settling so she sat cradled between his thighs, his chest warm against her back. He brushed her braid aside and pressed a soft kiss just below her ear.
"You don't have to do anything but feel," he murmured. "We'll take care of the rest."
Seraphin's fingers found the laces of lira's shirt and loosened them slowly, reverently, as though unwrapping something sacred. When the fabric parted, lira's breasts spilled free, full and heavy, nipples tightening in the hot air. Seraphin's breath caught.
"Gods, look at you," she whispered, cupping them gently, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks until Lira whimpered. "So beautiful. So untouched."
Kazeal big hands slid around her waist, tracing the soft curve of her belly with something like worship. "Ours to cherish," he said against her throat. "Only if you want."
Lira turned her face into his neck, trembling. "I want. I'm just… nervous."Seraphin smiled, soft and wicked at once. "Then let us make you forget to be nervous."
They undressed her the way one undresses a dream: slowly, carefully, kissing every new inch of skin revealed. When her breeches slid down her round hips and thighs, both of them made matching sounds of hungry awe. Lira tried to cover herself; Kazeal gently caught her wrists and kissed each palm.
"Don't hide," he said. "You're perfect."
They laid her back on the cloaks. Seraphin settled between her thighs, parting them with reverent hands.
"We'll go slow," she promised, voice husky, "as slow as you need."
The first touch of Seraphin's tongue was feather-light. Lira gasped, hips jerking. Kazeal stretched beside her, kissing her breathless while Seraphin licked and teased until lira was shaking, innocent sounds spilling from her throat turning into desperate pleas.
When kazeal finally moved between her thighs, thick and careful, Seraphin stayed close, fingers stroking lira's hair, whispering, "Breathe, sweet girl… let him in… that's it…"
The stretch burned for only a heartbeat, then turned into the most exquisite fullness she had ever known. Kazeal moved gently, eyes locked on hers, letting her set the pace. Seraphin kissed her through every new sensation until pleasure crested and
Lira came with a soft, wondering cry, clinging to them both.
They didn't stop there. They showed her everything: Seraphin guiding lira's shy mouth between her legs until Seraphin was the one trembling; Kazeal taking her from behind while Seraphin's fingers worked between them; all three locked together, sweat-slick and breathless, until innocence burned away in the sweetest possible fire.
When it was over, they curled between her lovers, skin glowing in the lava-light, lira felt the bond sing with completion.
She was still soft, still curvy, still flushed and breathless, but no longer untouched.
And she had never felt more powerful in her life.