Sara spent a long time bracing herself for the reaction of the people, when their army returned to Tulian. She knew plenty of word had run ahead of the army, spread by merchants and runners and her own communications to various people in the city, but that didn't mean people were prepared for what they would see. Rumors had no doubt spread like wildfire, twisting and morphing with each set of ears that heard them, and it was only now that the full reality of the situation would be present.

  The first thing that was clear was that the stripped-down City Guard was in no way prepared to control the crowds. When the army first crested the st hill before the ftnds that surrounded the city, people began to pour forth from every gate. They were only blobs at that distance, but Sara could still see the vastly outnumbered Guard uselessly hollering and filing their staffs at the crowd in an attempt to keep them within the wall's safety. Sara was as certain as she could be that the Sporaton cavalry was nowhere near, but even the remotest possibility of their Knights running down the crowd was enough for her to send the order that people wouldn't be allowed out of the city to greet the army.

  She should've known better, in hindsight. It wasn't the entire city that came running out of the gates, not nearly, considering there were nearly a hundred thousand of them packed into it now, but enough people braved the press to cover the clear-cut killing fields into one teeming horde, slowly pushing forward as everyone jostled for a better view.

  "Gods," Sara groaned, quiet enough that only Evie, who sat behind her on Trot's saddle, could hear. "I'm so not looking forward to this."

  "You are aware, Master, that you are the one who picked Amarat as your patron?"

  "Yeah, but, like..." Sara grimaced at the massive crowd. "I thought I'd be making smooth backroom deals, seducing important people in quiet taverns and stuff. Not literally leading a parade."

  "We all must py the hand we are dealt, Master," Evie said. Then her hands tightened around Sara's waist. "If you'd like, I can think of several ways in which I might personally divert attention–"

  "Please keep your clothes on, Evie."

  "All of them?"

  "All of them."

  "One of these days, you'll have to allow me my fun."

  "Maybe, but not today."

  Evie grumbled into Sara's neck, leaning against her, but didn't say anything further. They both knew she was joking, trying to alleviate some of the tension. Sara's concern really didn't stem from being the center of attention. She'd gotten used to that months ago. No, she was worried about the people seeing just how many of their friends and families that she'd gotten killed.

  The army that approached Tulian was noticeably smaller. Two thousand of their original five thousands were dead and buried in distant fields. To keep away from the encroaching Sporaton forces, Sara had been forced to bag up and toss the bodies into a mass grave, nothing more than a name scrawled on the front of cheap canvas to identify them, so that they hopefully, maybe, could be dug up and buried properly ter. Everyone in that crowd knew she'd done it, too, knew it was her fault that their daughters and sons were rotting under a thin yer of dirt.

  Those that had survived weren't a pretty sight, either. The Sporaton cavalry had wreaked such havoc on them that the healers still hadn't worked their way through all of the injured, and many were walking with their halberds used for canes and crutches, while a great many more were carried in emptied supply wagons, tarps loosely draped over the top to shield them from the baking sun. Seen from above, it was a ragged, exhausted procession that was returning to Tulian, an army on the brink of colpse.

  But at the end of the day, Sara was a showman. It was all she was, really, at least as far as her Blessings went, and she'd damn well take whatever advantage she could get. A part of her wanted to have the wounded up front and center, to show the entire city what war really was, its inhuman brutality and horrific results, but that wasn't right. The Tulian people, peasants all, knew war. Knew it was horrible. Sara wouldn't do any good by showing them what they'd long since taken for granted.

  They were scared. They feared the Sporaton army, feared the rape and pilge that would no doubt result if the city fell, feared living under the boot of nobility once more. What they needed wasn't a lesson in humility, but something to look for, something to reassure them.

  And so Sara had ordered the muskets taken out of their protected carriers, had organized her healthiest troops to the front and sides of the formation. She kept the carts carrying wounded in the center, as out of sight as possible, and halted the advance for several hours earlier in the day just so the troops could spend time wiping down and polishing their gear.

  When they reached the crowd and it began to swarm around them, Sara head it all. Ten thousand cmoring voices roared into her mind, Blessings noting, cataloguing, and cementing them into a recollection that would st the rest of her life. Some were automatically brought to her attention, those that represented the most commonly expressed sentiments, so that she found herself absorbing the mood of the crowd in an instant.

  "Those the, the– guns? They've got all those guns on their shoulders, don't they?"

  "They don't look like much, do they?"

  "How do I– Tahn! Tahn, are you in there? Does– you, you there, where's the Sixteenth Squadron? My son, Tahn, is he alive? Please, just–"

  "Can't believe they're alive."

  "Can't believe they lost so many."

  "At least we'll have 'em on our walls, now."

  "Like it'll matter."

  "I... she's not– she died? She died? Lavana, dark hair, tusks this long– no, no, there's other orcs like her, she's a common girl, she couldn't have–"

  Sara suddenly found the long column that her troops had maintained for so long dispersing, the crowd pressing in among their number in search of loved ones. The sergeants began to bellow their usual threats, trying to keep the troops in formation, but then one member of the squad would spot a family member and both would cry out in excitement, the others would see it happen, and they'd suddenly break away, looking for their own family, desperate to reassure them. Only the troops she'd trusted with muskets mostly kept together, having long since been drilled on the importance of keeping their weapons to themselves, but even their numbers were beginning to thin, the troops passing weapons off to their comrades as they melted into the crowd.

  "Fucking hell," Sara swore, pulling Trot up short. "I was worried about a lot, but this wasn't what I expected."

  "Your troops have been remarkably disciplined throughout the conflict, Master," Evie said. "Such a streak had to be broken eventually."

  "There's going to be spies in that crowd," Sara said. In fact, she heard several suspicious voices, her Blessings appraising her of those whose shouted sentiments weren't quite genuine. Not enough to be actionable yet, but she'd remember their voices for ter, as always. "I can't believe they're really just fucking off like this."

  "They've been away from home for months, Master."

  Sara frowned, gncing over her shoulder at Evie. "Since when are you the empathetic one, huh?"

  "I'm hardly empathetic. Just a contrarian."

  Sara snorted, then popped Trot's reins. She activated Champion's Inspiration, sending a simple drumbeat booming out over the crowd, and began to shout orders. Many in the crowd, unfamiliar with her power, recoiled in shock, while many of the soldiers reacted to the familiar thrumming with the acrity of long months of practice. Slowly, inch by inch, her troops began to coalesce once more, forming ranks, keeping the civilians out from among their number. A good few continued to melt away into the crowd, excitedly telling tales of their adventures, and Sara separated out a list in her mind of their names, so she could pass it on to their Sergeants ter. It was damned hard to get away with anything in her army.

  "Let's see if we can get this shitshow through the gates, at least," Sara said, maneuvering Trot forward.

  "I must admit, I understand their reaction. I very nearly want to jump off into the crowd myself. Perhaps I'm more empathetic than either of us expected. That, or just eager to see Hurlish again."

  "Not mutually exclusive," Sara said, before pausing to shout a few civilians out of her way. "And we're going to see her soon, don't you worry. She wouldn't let us stay away for long."

  ------------------------------------

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  Sara had intended to parade her troops through the city to the barracks that had been set aside for them, dense little outposts that littered the nd-side wall of the Tulian capital, but that pn had gotten cut short when two giant hands had reached up to grab her and Evie's thigh, physically ripping them out of the saddle.

  Hoots and hollers had sounded from the crowd as Hurlish took both women into a deep hug, their feet dangling off the ground and kicking helplessly as the air was crushed from their lungs. Even Trot, who was normally fairly protective of Sara, barely flicked an ear, seeming to take it for granted that Hurlish would be strangling them near to death.

  Sara fought her way out of the orc's grip for long enough to tell her commanders to continue on, then was dragged away, much to the delight of the onlookers. Some tried to follow, but Evie slipping free of Hurlish's grip long enough to crawl up on her shoulders and gre at them all, ears fttened, put a stop to that. They scattered like mice, and soon Hurlish had dipped down enough side streets and alleyways that Sara had time to stow their armor in her bag and repce her and Evie's clothes with common civilian garb. The Champion of Amarat was nothing if not adaptable, when it came to fashion.

  "They have gotten bigger," Evie triumphantly crowed from atop Hurlish's shoulders. She was bent awkwardly over, pawing at the woman's breasts with clear delight. True to her word, they'd probably moved up a cup size, making each breast decisively rger than Evie's own head. Still proportional on Hurlish, but only barely. If she'd been human, they probably would have been some of the rgest natural breasts Sara had ever seen in person.

  "Yeah, yeah, they're bigger. Gd you're excited, but it's a pain in my ass."

  "Did that get bigger, too?" Evie asked, twisting around to look at Hurlish's backside.

  "Shut up," Hurlish grunted, giving Evie's thigh an affectionate swat. "I swear, Sara's corrupting you. Never used to make jokes like that."

  "Joke?" Evie asked, tone a picture of sincerity.

  "I think it's about the same," Sara decred, giving the aforementioned ass a pinch that made Hurlish jump. "She's put a bit of pregnancy weight on, maybe, but it's all in the right spots. Not like it wasn't this juicy before, at least."

  "You two could barely breathe when you were down there, anyway. Any bigger and it'll end up crushing one of you," Hurlish grumbled.

  Sara looked up at Hurlish with innocent doe-eyes. "Promise?"

  The orc snorted, lightly cuffing Sara in the back of her head.

  "Hey!" Sara protested, rubbing her head. "If you're gonna be hitting anyone, hit Evie. At least she likes it."

  "She's next."

  "Promise?" Evie echoed, returning to her sprawl across Hurlish's head, arms dangling down to massage her breasts.

  For all Evie cked most cat-like mannerisms, at least when compared to catfolk, she was looking incredibly feline at the moment. She'd gone entirely limp atop her girlfriend, such that Hurlish had to keep a firm grip on her legs lest she fall off, and she'd entirely forgotten her usual vigince, far more interested in kneading Hurlish's breasts through the breezy overshirt she wore in her sweltering forge. Sara had already introduced this world to the concept of bras, but she'd only managed to get their production approved by Evie after a solemn promise that neither Sara nor Hurlish would ever wear the 'accursed' things. That same promise now let Evie freely poke and prod at Hurlish's nipples throughout their walk, uncaring of who saw the orc's growing blush.

  Thankfully, the streets were nearly empty, most having gone to see the army arrive, and those few that were out and about failed to recognize Evie with her ears hidden beneath a hood and her tail trying (and failing) to coil around whatever part of Hurlish's muscur body was nearest. Hurlish herself was more recognizable, but she was far from the only orcish smith in Tulian, and cked the distinguishing features of Evie's feline nature and Sara's outright fame. In short, it was probably fine, which was good, because Evie sure as hell wasn't going to stop.

  "I can't reach your bellllyy," Evie whined, hands filing childishly. "I want to feel it. Have you had any kicks, yet?"

  "Maybe," Hurlish admitted, and at this Sara crushed even harder into her side, rubbing her hands over Hurlish's stomach. For a woman five months pregnant, her swell was only modest, but that was to be expected for someone seven feet tall. Sara still pressed her hand ft against her stomach, trying to feel something, anything.

  "If I can barely feel it, you wouldn't be able to," Hurlish said.

  "Shut up," Sara said, "I'm an optimist. C'mon, little kid. Mom's here, say hi!"

  The question of how their child was going to address her three mothers was a question that they'd long since solved, and surprisingly easily. They all three had different versions of the title that were common in their extremely differnt upbringings. As a result, Sara would be "Mom," Hurlish would be "Mama," and Evie would be "Mother." Sara had sort of winced at that st one on Evie's behalf, feeling it was impersonal, but Evie disagreed whole-heartedly. It was, after all, what every one of her peers had called their mothers as a child, so it was perfectly normal to her.

  Then there would be Aunt Vesta, Aunt Oddry, Aunt Ketch, Mr. Garen and Mr. Ignite, and... they probably wouldn't introduce the kid to Selliana, to be honest, at least until the kid could... Sara didn't know. Maybe until they could comprehend the woman? That'd be a while, probably. Sara still wasn't sure if she knew what exactly the witch was, though kids were usually better at going with the flow of things. They'd have to see. Then there was the fact that Mr. Garen would probably get upgraded to "Uncle," at least if Evie had her way and got the man into their bed, and maybe it wouldn't be Aunt Vesta and Aunt Oddry, because they seemed pretty near going exclusive, emotionally speaking, if not physically, and–

  Sara felt something jump underneath her hand, and it sent her heart into her throat.

  "Hurlish! Hurlish, did you–" She excitedly began, looking up at the woman.

  The orc rolled her eyes. "That was me stepping on a rock, babe."

  "Fuck!" Sara whined.

  "No swearing in front of the child, Master," Evie chastised.

  Sara shot the feline an incredulous look. "But feeling up their mama's tits is fine?"

  "Of course," Evie haughtily sniffed. "The child will be doing the same soon enough, anyway."

  "If you leave anything left for her."

  "Neither of you are sucking my tits until the kid's weaned off," Hurlish decred. "And no, you're not gonna tch on the minute they're done, either. I don't want to be all swollen up the rest of my life."

  "I mean, I don't have a specific thing for breast milk," Sara began to hedge, before Evie interrupted.

  "Speak for yourself, Master. And we'll have to see how you feel when the time comes, Hurlish."

  The orc groaned, tossing her head back, which only ended up putting her face directly in the swell of Evie's breasts above her. "I swear. Why'd y'all have to come back, again?" She asked, voice muffled.

  "You know you love it," Sara said, finally accepting that she probably wasn't going to be feeling anything while Hurlish was up walking. She returned to her side-hugging of the woman, reaching a hand up to interlock her fingers with Evie's, between Hurlish's breasts.

  The rest of the walk was spent discussing their upcoming child, how they'd protect them from the medieval equivalent of paparazzi, how much wealth they'd want the kid to get used to having, and if they thought it would be a boy or girl. Evie and Hurlish were both convinced it was going to be a girl, considering the fact that both parents were women. Sara wanted to argue against that from a genetic perspective, and thought she was doing a decent job, all the way until she realized she had absolutely no idea how a god-granted dick might py with traditional genetics, so she had to admit she was ultimately as lost as them. She still didn't think the "two women = baby girl" argument held weight, however.

  Eventually, they reached the small house Hurlish had commandeered near her forge. With Sara and Evie out on campaign, the orc didn't see much point living in the Peasant's Theatre, and had found a small space on the second story of a nearby building to live in. She'd told Sara all about it, over crystal, but this was the first time Sara had actually been in it.

  She didn't get much time to look around.

  Sara had been pressed into Hurlish's side throughout the entire walk, even as they went up the stairs, and that let Hurlish's hand suddenly cmp down on her shoulder the moment they crossed through the threshold, shoving her forward. Sara stumbled forward, only to be met by Evie's flying body, flung off of Hurlish's shoulders. Sara half-caught her girlfriend as she nded against her chest, setting her on her feet.

  "Been too long," Hurlish grunted, smming the door shut with a foot.

  "For–"

  "Shut it," Hurlish snapped, cutting Evie off. The floorboards rattled as she stomped across the room, one hand ripping her shirt open, the other reaching out to grab Evie by the throat.

  Evie was shoved into the wall with a gasp, eyes wide, staring up at Hurlish. Sara watched as the orc lifted her up the wood until their faces were even, then pressed in, crushing Evie's lips with her own.

  Evie groaned into Hurlish's mouth, limbs writhing helplessly in midair. She lost herself, opening her mouth to let Hurlish test her freely, until her mind unfroze enough to send her legs wrapping around Hurlish's stomach, arms flung around her neck.

  Hurlish kept Evie pinned to the wall like that for a long time, their bodies pressed into one another so hard Evie was struggling to breathe, air whistling through her nose as she panted and panted, adamantly refusing to stop tasting Hurlish's lips for even a moment.

  They eventually parted with a heavy gasp, drawing in deep breaths, chests heaving against one another. One of Evie's hands fell to Hurlish's stomach, running in circles. Evie looked like she wanted to say something, but she was too dazed, her eyes already gzed over.

  Hurlish dropped her without ceremony. Evie was so out of it that she immediately colpsed to her knees, which worked fine for Hurlish, because she immediately stepped forward, pelvis grinding into Evie's face, pressing her head against the wall.

  "Get over here," Hurlish grunted to Sara, even as she threaded her thick fingers through Evie's tight braids. The feline moaned at the painful tug, nuzzling into Hurlish's crotch.

  Sara felt her feet moving her forward, heart pounding. Hurlish turned around, dragging Evie like a ragdoll across the floor, and pulled Sara in by the back of her neck. Before she could say a word, Hurlish had snagged Sara by the colr of her shirt, lifting her into the air, and took her lips.

  Sara opened her mouth in an instant, taking hold of Hurlish's tusks and pulling her in, groaning as Hurlish's tongue pressed into her mouth. Her mind buzzed with arousal, even the painful dig of her clothes supporting her body taking on a sheen of pleasure.

  Sara normally took the lead. It was what she was used to. She'd always considered herself a switch in bed, but there was no denying that with her usual partners, she almost always ended up in the lead. It was usually what worked out naturally, and she loved it.

  But she didn't think there was a single woman on the pnet capable of topping Hurlish.

  Hurlish dropped her just as her lungs began to burn, Sara thudding to the floor and stumbling sideways, dizzy for all sorts of reasons. Evie had managed to get Hurlish's pants all the way down to her knees before losing the battle to her own lust, burying her face in Hurlish's thighs, pping eagerly. The orc's fingers were still tangled in her hair, clenching tightly, jerking her to certain spots less like she was holding a loving partner's head, and more like a sex toy.

  Evie was loving it. She had to keep her knees locked just to get the height required to taste Hurlish's pussy, but the rest of her was nearly boneless, her tail only occasionally stuttering upward, searching for some part of Hurlish to wrap around before flopping limply back to the floor. Her arms hung uselessly by her side, swinging slightly, fingertips twitching as Hurlish jerked her from side to side. Only her eyes seemed to have any light to them, and that was only because they were wide and staring straight up, craving the sight of Hurlish as much as her tongue craved the taste of Hurlish's pussy.

  Hurlish peeled Evie off with some effort, the feline betedly scrabbling to take hold of Hurlish's thighs as she realized she was being pulled away. Ignoring her feeble efforts, Hurlish shifted her grip on Evie's hair from her left hand to her right and began walking across the room, dragging Evie with her.

  "Spent a lot of money on this fuckin' bed," Hurlish said to Sara. "We're not gonna fuck in the goddamn living room."

  Taking a gnce over towards it, Sara was at least relieved to see that her girlfriend had the good sense to get a bed rge enough bed for the three of them. It was heavily reinforced, with thick timbers instead of the usual thin sts of wood supporting its feather-stuffed mattress, and the sheets were fine silks. Judging by the number of pillows and the fact that the bedding was actually made, Hurlish had been pnning for this.

  Evie was suddenly flung forward, sliding across the bed until she thumped against the headboard. Hurlish stopped, kicking her boots to a random corner of the room, dragging her pants off with one hand while her other threw her shirt over her head.

  Though there was nothing slow about how Hurlish took her clothes off, it felt to Sara like the entire world crawled to a stop. Her dark green skin rippled with muscle, like always, save for the swell of her belly, which was as soft and enticing as her pillowy breasts. She didn't wear a bra, just linen wraps, and when she started towards the bed without unwrapping them, Sara finally snapped out of her trance.

  "Where are you going?" Sara murmured, wrapping her arms underneath Hurlish's shoulders.

  "To get eaten out?" Hurlish grunted, dragging Sara forward a step.

  "Not dressed like that, you aren't," Sara breathed, reaching up and snagging a handful of cloth. It peeled away easily under Sara's cwing, falling to a loose pile on the floor.

  Evie, still panting on the bed, watched with a reverence almost religious. Her pupils dited even further as Hurlish stretched, relieved to have her wraps off, pushing her chest forward.

  And then Evie's eyes dropped to her stomach, the subtle rise of her pregnancy, and the feline whimpered.

  All froze at the sound, Sara cupping more than a handful of breast, Hurlish mid-stretch, and Evie id out across the bed, paralyzed by shock.

  "Y'like that, huh?" Hurlish finally asked, her voice scratchy with arousal. Evie's face began to redden, and it was with considerable delight that both of the woman's girlfriends realized they'd found a kink that actually managed to get the impcable catgirl embarrassed.

  Sara dropped her hands from Hurlish's breasts to cup her baby bump, leaning around Hurlish's bicep to look Evie in the eyes.

  "Something about seeing your girlfriend pregnant that gets you going, Evie?"

  "I- I- Well, it's only n-natural..." She stuttered.

  "Natural, of course," Hurlish drawled, slowly padding forward, resting her hands over Sara's. "I mean, everyone gets so red in the face they can't speak when they see their girl pregnant, right?"

  "That's- I wouldn't know-"

  "They don't, Evie," Sara hummed, stepping out from behind Hurlish. "What about it gets you like this, hm?" As Sara spoke, Hurlish reached the end of the bed and crawled up, towering over the catgirl. "You like knowing she's been knocked up? That I've put my cim on her, that I'm showing the whole world she's mine?"

  "Or is it that the same thing could happen to you?" Hurlish asked, bending over, framing Evie's face with her hands on either side of the far smaller woman. "That you know the moment you want it, you're gonna end up like me? Sara's kid in you, kicking and wiggling, with everyone that you pass on the street knowing that the Champion knocked you up?"

  "That's- it's-" Evie's face continued to redden, writhing on the bed. She still had her clothes on, which Sara intended to change soon, if only because the poor girl looked like she was about to overheat.

  "C'mon, Evie, use your words," Sara purred, stepping around the bed. As she did so, she slowly pulled her own shirt over her head and shook her hair out, letting it cascade over her bare shoulders. Evie watched her, swallowing hard.

  "It's- I can't–" She groaned, tearing her eyes off of Sara's chest. "Gods, why haven't you two started touching me yet?"

  "C'mon, Kitty," Hurlish growled, dropping lower, until Evie could look at nothing but her. "If you want to get what you're looking for, y'gotta tell us what you want."

  Evie's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, eyes wide, before she suddenly closed them, turning away to mumble into the pillow.

  "It's just that... You're pregnant. With our child. And... and I have always wanted to be a mother?"

  Her tone took on a questioning lilt as she forced the sentence out, looking as if she wanted to bite the pillow in sheer embarrassment.

  Sara froze again, halfway through crawling onto the bed. Really? She thought, astounded. That's it? It's not even a kink? She's just really hyped about raising the kid?

  "Fucking adorable," Sara breathed, before she could think better of it.

  "Maaasterrr!" Evie whined pintively, ears ft against her skull as she twisted away.

  Hurlish ended the moment by crashing down on top of Evie, assaulting her mouth with her own. Evie groaned, pressing up into the rger woman as she threw her arms around her bare shoulders.

  Sara crawled onto the bed beside them, perfectly content to watch, but almost immediately found herself getting dragged in, Hurlish shoving her into the mattress, so she was on her back next to Evie.

  The orc finally broke her kiss with Evie, ignoring the delirious, airy expression she'd left on the woman's face, and snagged Sara by the waistband. She found herself thrown down beside Evie, shoulder to shoulder, Hurlish towering over them both.

  "Who's first?" Hurlish asked.

  "Me," both women responded.

  "Greedy girls," Hurlish murmured, running a hand up Evie's stomach, feeling the roughspun cloth of her shirt. She was still wearing simple commoner's clothing, the disguise Sara had prepared for her. Hurlish's eyes flicked to Sara. "You know what to do, don't you?"

  Sara nodded hurriedly, rolling onto her side to hold Evie's shoulders down. Hurlish's fingers continued to trace a trial upward, running between Evie's breasts, before taking a fistful of her shirt's colr.

  The feline's breath came hot and heavy, her eyes wide, hips rolling on the bed as best they could, when she pinned in pce by two stronger women.

  The moment Sara had a decent grip on her girlfriend, Hurlish pulled, the sound of ripping cotton tearing the air. Evie let out a half-gasp, half mewl as her shirt was torn away, coming apart in Hurlish's hands like tissue paper. Her breasts were bared to the air, shoved upward by her panting, her eyes growing ever more lidded with arousal.

  Red lines began to blossom along Evie's skin where the shirt had dug in the tightest. As Hurlish started tearing off Evie's pants, Sara bent down to run her tongue along the painful marks, tasting the rising heat of Evie's skin, tinged with the sweat born of her arousal.

  Evie whined pitifully as her sopping wet core was exposed to the open air, even the summer heat feeling cold against her burning body. Sara lifted her tongue off Evie's ribs to spare a gnce. Her thighs were soaked, shining with slick arousal, spread further every time she tried to rub her legs together, seeking any friction she could get.

  As Sara returned to licking her way across Evie's body, Hurlish forced her legs open, denying the feline even that small relief.

  Sara's tongue moved up from Evie's ribs to her torso, licking around the sides of her breasts. Evie groaned out her frustration, twisting towards Sara as she took a handful of her hair, trying to shove her closer. It was useless, of course. For all her superior skills with a bde, Evie couldn't hold a candle to Sara's strength. Sara was free to taste her partner's body as she wished, and for the moment, she was far more patient than Evie.

  Hurlish, meanwhile, wasn't showing quite the same restraint. The sight of Evie's legs spread open, held open by Hurlish's own thighs, had a deep growl bubbling out of her throat. Sara felt Evie jump as Hurlish's palm nded on her inner thigh, fingernails pressing into her flesh. The orc spread her legs farther, farther, until it was almost painful, and only when Evie looked near to tears with desperation for release did she finally smirk, stooping lower.

  Sara moved to take Evie's nipple in her mouth in the same moment that Hurlish's tongue pressed against Evie's core. A low song began to fill the room, humming out of Sara's chest as, slowly, in perfect sync, she and Hurlish dragged her tongues along Evie's body.

  Evie groaned mindlessly, chest rising up into Sara's mouth, hips bucking against Hurlish's mouth. One ft palm from Hurlish pressed against her pelvis, smming her hips back down into the bed, pinning her in pce.

  "Gods, gods, gods," Evie breathed, "Please. Please, please touch me."

  In response, Sara moved her hand to Evie's other breast, brushing over her nipple, and Hurlish wrapped her forearms around Evie's thighs, dragging her in closer, tight, practically grinding Evie against her face while her tongue dove into her.

  Evie had never been one to st long in bed, something Sara took considerably pride in, but this was looking to be a record for her. Not a minute had passed before she began to shiver and shake, fingernails cwing red marks along Sara's shoulderbdes. Sara didn't stop, not even as her begging faded from sentences to words to mindless moans, and Hurlish kept licking, pressing deeper into Evie's core, tongue pping up her arousal like she was addicted.

  Evie's eyes wrenched shut, every muscle across her body tensing as she fought against the rising tide, trying to hold off, to bask in the pleasure for just a little bit longer.

  Sara would have none of that. With a muttered word, she cast Empathic Link, joining their emotions together, deepening the bond they shared beyond even what the colr could offer.

  Sara's knees buckled as she felt Evie's pleasure wash into her at the same moment that Evie keened loudly, suddenly hit by the full brunt of Sara's hunger, her need. They could feel the other's desire for the other as burning fme, two fmes that joined into a single towering bonfire.

  Sara could feel Evie's profound, utter relief at having Hurlish beside her, the abject joy that she would no longer hear her voice filtered through her crystal. Evie felt Sara's furious hunger, the sheer need that bubbled in her core, a gnawing pit that was slowly being filled by the sight of her partner tensing beneath her.

  With a final, sudden push, Sara did something she'd never done before, and extended Empathic Link to another person, wrapping Hurlish up in their threefold embrace.

  She was... horny. Unbelievably, maddeningly, uncontrolbly turned on, aroused beyond belief. The hunger in her gut for Evie's body was all-consuming, the months-absent taste of her slick as beautiful as any god-given nectar. The orc was floating away on a raging river of brutal, possessive desire, an instinctive need to cim, to own. There was nothing more that her body wanted than to see Evie fall apart under her tongue, to reach a height of pleasure so great it left her delirious, so that the woman would never, ever dare leave her again, no matter what.

  As the spell whirled between them, passing thoughts back and forth, to and from, Sara felt Evie's pleasure growing. She could taste Evie's slick on her tongue, felt lips on her breast, could feel a head between her legs, tongue digging deep into her core. So lost was she that she couldn't even tell what came from her, what was her lover's pleasure, and she didn't care.

  Evie's body suddenly tensed, her hips shoving up into Hurlish's face as her mouth dropped open, nothing but the quietest of gasps slipping through.

  Evie's orgasm struck like lightning, roared like thunder, shaking all the world. Sara's fingers dug trenches in the bed as it roared through her an instant ter, a dizzying, heady pleasure pumping through her body, sourceless and serene, vibrant and all-consuming. She cried out into Evie's breast, her voice breaking as her legs clenched shut around the phantom tongue between her legs, which seemed to be shoving as hard as it could into her core. She lost herself, utterly, unsure of where she was, who she was, and most of all, why she should even care. All that mattered was the taste of salty sweat against her tongue, the thumping pleasure pulsing through her core, the beautiful, beautiful whines which filled the room. Hurlish's hips were grinding uselessly against the bed, tears were beading at the corner of Evie's eyes, and every inch of silken sheet that caressed Sara's bare body felt as wonderful as a hundred massages.

  A time ter, only the gods knew how long, and Sara's mind bubbled up from the primordial haze of pleasure in which it had nearly drowned. As her senses slowly returned, one by one, she realized was ying limply across Evie's chest, the feline's arm flung over her back. Her shoulderbdes stung in that old familiar way, the one that told her Evie had left deep marks, yet somehow even that felt wonderful. She'd earned them, and even the dull throbbing pain took on a sheen of pride.

  "Huhhuhhhh..." groaned Hurlish. Sara mustered the energy to flop her head onto the other cheek, looking down Evie's stomach to see the orc dragging herself out from between Evie's legs. Her face was a mess of arousal, slick and sticky. If Sara could have moved, she would have licked it off her. "Thheeee fuck'd you dooo?" Hurlish moaned, trying and failing to prop herself up on an elbow.

  "Spell link," Sara croaked, her voice scratchy. She'd dimly noted hearing someone screaming when they'd all came, but she thought it had been Evie, like usual. Judging by her aching throat, that may not have been the case. "Thought it'd be fun."

  "Was," Hurlish said, thumping her head back down, face-first into the mattress. It was a matter of seconds before a gentle snore rose up from the orc, whose shins were still dangling off the end of the bed.

  "Evie?" Sara asked, once more making the arduous effort of turning her head to the right, so she could look at her partner.

  The feline didn't respond, her head id limply back against a pillow, eyes shut. Her mouth hung slightly open as she breathed, chest rising and falling, the air rushing into her lungs just barely audible from where Sara y on her breast.

  "Oh. G'night, I guess," Sara murmured. "or... morning? Maybe it's... afternooon...?"

  Sleep took her before she could solve the conundrum.