Ten days. Ten long, aching days of stolen kisses, teasing glances, and bodies brushing just close enough to burn but not to touch fully.
But tonight… tonight, there were no more barriers.
The house was quiet. The twins had been rocked gently to sleep, their soft breaths barely audible from the baby monitor nearby. The rooms were dim, lit only by soft candlelight and the flicker of fairy lights that glowed like stars strung across the ceiling.
Liora stood in the living room, her white robe falling open just enough to reveal the softness of her thighs, the curve of her waist, the promise in her eyes.
Keal was the first to notice her — really notice her — as if he hadn't seen her every day since the birth. But now, with no barriers, no worries, no holding back... she was glowing.
"God, I've missed touching you like this," he murmured, stepping close, his fingers brushing her jaw, tracing the shape of her lips with reverence.
"I missed you both," she whispered, voice low, thick with longing. "So much I thought I might burst."
Rivan joined them then, shirtless, his arms wrapping around both of them, his breath hot against Liora's neck. "Then let us catch up, love," he murmured. "Let us make up for every hour we had to wait."
They didn't make it to the bedroom immediately.
The living room became a temple of sighs and desperate touches. Liora in the center, her robe slowly falling away, her body still soft from new motherhood, still healing — and yet radiant with raw desire. Her hands explored them both as if rediscovering sacred ground. She pressed kisses along Keal's chest while Rivan mapped her back with his lips.
Keal laid her gently onto the couch, hovering over her, but it was Rivan who knelt behind, kissing along her shoulder blades, whispering things that made her gasp. The warmth of them — their bodies, their devotion — it consumed her.
One moment she was beneath Keal, his weight delicious and grounding, his mouth worshipping every inch of her skin — and the next she was straddling Rivan's lap, her back arched, Keal behind her now, his lips on her neck, his hand over her heart.
They moved together like a symphony — shifting, breathing, kissing.
In the bedroom, later, the air was thick with sweat and soft moans. The bed creaked under the weight of all three, tangled together in a knot of passion and love. Liora lay between them first, her body trembling under their touch, every nerve alight. Their hands moved in perfect rhythm — one cupping her breast, the other holding her hand, grounding her through waves of overwhelming sensation.
Later, Keal lay on his back, flushed and breathless, as Liora kissed down his stomach, and Rivan's mouth met his in a heated kiss. The trust between them was palpable — raw, exposed, unashamed. They took turns loving and being loved, offering themselves completely to each other, again and again.
Liora watched them through half-lidded eyes, her body still humming from the last round. The sight of them — her men, lovers, protectors — giving in to one another with such passion made her breath catch. It was beautiful. Unfiltered. Wild.
They pulled her back into their embrace soon after, hands finding her, mouths claiming her skin, their bodies pressing against hers until they were all gasping, shaking, whispering desperate words into one another's mouths.
"I love you," Keal breathed against her temple.
"Always," Rivan added, his hand covering both of theirs over Liora's chest.
By the time the sun began to rise, they were a heap of limbs and love — exhausted, spent, but utterly whole.
Wrapped in a blanket on the living room floor, Liora lay nestled between them. Keal's fingers drew circles on her hip. Rivan pressed a kiss to her forehead. Their legs were still tangled, hearts still racing in sync.
And though the day had passed in a blur of heat and hunger, what lingered most was the way they had looked at her. At each other.
With awe.
With reverence.
With the kind of love that comes only once in a lifetime — if you're lucky.
The day had been slow and tender. The twins were peacefully napping, soft breaths rising and falling in their crib while sunlight spilled in through the living room windows like a golden invitation. Liora sat between her husbands on the couch, one hand resting on Keal's thigh, the other tangled in Rivan's curls.
Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips pink and parted, still glowing from the morning's kisses. "You know…" she murmured, her voice low and sultry, "I don't think I can go another day without feeling both of you again. I want it daily. I've missed you. All of you."
Rivan's breath hitched. "We know," he whispered, sliding his palm over her hip. "That's why we've already stocked a full pack of protection."
Keal chuckled, leaning in to kiss her shoulder. "We were counting the days, baby. We want to make you feel everything."
Liora's heart fluttered, her body already burning with anticipation. She stood slowly, her white shirt slipping off her shoulder. Then, with steady confidence, she straddled Keal where he sat on the floor, legs open, head tilted back, waiting for her. Her hips moved with a quiet hunger, her hands in his hair, tugging gently.
"Don't stop," she moaned, grinding slowly. "Rivan…"
Rivan came up behind her, his hands sliding down her waist, his lips at her neck. "You feel so good," he murmured, pressing against her, skin to skin. His hands roamed—her belly, her breasts, her thighs—his touch reverent, worshipful. "You're driving me insane, Liora."
Keal groaned beneath her, eyes dark with desire. "You're the only dream I want to live in."
The three of them moved together like breath and heartbeat — slow, deep, connected. There was no rush. No hesitation. Just the overwhelming need to feel each other again, to reclaim the intimacy that had simmered beneath their skin for weeks.
On the floor, in the living room where soft light painted them in gold and shadow, Liora was everything — wild and soft, adored and devoured. They whispered her name like prayer. She called theirs like a song.
Later, the heat moved with them into the bedroom. Liora lay back, her skin warm and flushed, her hair splayed like a halo. Keal kissed every inch of her, slow and steady. Rivan lay beside her, trailing his fingers across her waist, watching every sigh that left her lips.
At one point, she pressed her body against Rivan's and whispered, "Let me watch you. The two of you. Let me see that part of our love."
Keal looked at Rivan, then back at her, something reverent in his eyes. And with a quiet, wordless understanding, they kissed—deep and heated—while Liora's hand rested on both their hearts.
It wasn't just lust. It was everything they had held back. Every longing touch. Every whispered "I missed you" sealed with kisses and fingers tangled in hair. She watched them, in awe, touched by the sheer devotion they poured into each other. It was beautiful.
When they returned to her, she welcomed them with open arms and a racing heart. The bed shifted, bodies moved as one, tangled in need and trust. Her hands gripped shoulders, her moans filled the room like music, and their names left her lips like poetry.
They stayed like that for hours—whispers, laughter, gasps of pleasure echoing off the walls, love poured out in the shape of their bodies. It wasn't just passion.
It was freedom.
It was home.