They didn’t touch him yet. Instead, they began with each other—like they wanted to test how far they could push him.
Lyra’s fingers trailed along Crimora’s waist, tracing the faint scars there. Crimora’s breath hitched, and the sound was almost enough to make Kael’s pulse stumble.
Carla sat back, watching, cheeks flushed, then reached for herself, the tiniest sound escaping her lips when her hand slid lower.
"Oh f**k!"
The firelight made every movement sharper, every sigh louder.
Kael swallowed. He could feel his heartbeat climbing, the mark on his chest burning faintly.
"You’re doing this on purpose," he muttered.
Crimora smiled without looking at him. "Maybe."
He tried to look away, failed. Every shift of their bodies drew him back in. Lyra’s vines wrapped lazily around Crimo
