CHAPTER 556: DAWN IN TANGLED LIMBS (2)

Arielle hesitated at the threshold, her spectacles fogging in the tent’s warm air, her heart pounding with a thump thump. Lyan stood beside her, his scar glinting in the dusk, his half-smile a quiet invitation. "Come, Arielle," he said, his voice a low rumble, his hand brushing her arm with a brush brush that sent a shiver through her core. She nodded, her cheeks burning, the plug pulsing within her like a second heartbeat, her cave throbbing with a shy anticipation. She ducked into the tent, the rustle rustle of canvas enveloping her, the air thick with the scent of sweat, thyme, and leather.

Inside, the tent was a cocoon of warmth, the lantern casting flickering shadows across piled furs and tangled gear. Sigrid sprawled across the furs, her muscular frame relaxed but vibrant, her blue eyes half-closed in the dim light. Lara lounged beside her, her red braid splayed like a flame, her green eyes glinting with a lingering spark. Tara curled nearby, her thyme-scented hair a golden veil, her fair skin glowing in the lantern’s glow. Arielle settled among them, her soft frame sinking into the furs, her tunic creaking with a creak creak as she adjusted, her spectacles slipping as she closed her eyes, willing her thump thump heart to slow, the plug a warm anchor in the quiet.

But the quiet shattered with a soft mmh!, a sound that pierced the tent’s stillness like a spark. Arielle’s eyes snapped open, her spectacles fogging as her breath caught, a huff huff that matched the sudden thump thump of her heart. A wet slrp! followed, then another, sharp and fervent, mingling with a rhythmic slap slap that sent a jolt through her core. She shifted, her tunic creaking with a creak creak, and peeked through the dim light, her cheeks burning as she saw them—Sigrid, Lara, and Tara, their bare forms entwined with Lyan in a passionate dance, their movements a wildfire that set the tent ablaze.

Sigrid was first, her muscular frame arched on all fours, her blonde ponytail swaying like a banner, her blue eyes blazing with hunger. Lyan knelt behind her, his thing proud and glistening, entering her cave with a forceful thrust, the slap slap sharp and relentless, a Slap! Slap! SLAP! that echoed through the tent like a storm’s roar. Sigrid’s cry was a beastly "AHHNN! MY LORD!"—her voice a warrior’s hymn turned primal, her fingers clawing the furs with a scrunch scrunch, her cave stretching to hold his fierce rhythm. The quelch quelch was a wet, urgent pulse, a rhythm that matched the thump thump of Arielle’s heart, her own cave throbbing, the plug pulsing as she watched, her spectacles fogging with the heat of her breath.

Lara leaned in, her lips finding Lyan’s in a fierce kiss, the slrp! a hungry rhythm that drew a low mmh! from his throat, her red braid swaying, her green eyes flashing with mischief. "Give it to her, Chief Husband," she teased between slrp!, her freckled nose crinkling, her bare skin gleaming in the lantern’s light. Tara knelt lower, her lips brushing Lyan’s jewels with a reverent slrp!, her thyme-scented hair swaying, her brown eyes warm with devotion. "She’s yours," Tara murmured between slrp!, her fair cheeks flushed, her mmh! a soft hymn that wove into the slap slap. Arielle’s core tightened, her breath a ragged huff huff, her fingers brushing her own cave through her damp tunic, a tentative shlick shlick that sent sparks through her nerves, the plug pulsing in time with Sigrid’s cries.

Sigrid’s moans grew louder, a wild "GRRRAH! HARDER!" that shook the tent, her muscular frame shuddering with each Slap! SLAP!, her blonde ponytail swaying like a banner, her blue eyes rolling back in bliss. The quelch quelch was a primal tide, a rhythm that drowned out all else, her cave clenching around Lyan’s thing as her belly swelled slightly, holding every drop. The slap slap slowed, then stilled, Sigrid collapsing onto the furs with a thump, her breath a ragged huff huff

, her blue eyes heavy with bliss. "My Lord Husband... perfect..." she murmured, her voice a husky growl, her bare skin glistening in the lantern’s glow.

Lara took her place, her lean frame arching against the furs, her red braid splayed like a fiery halo, her green eyes blazing with hunger. Lyan’s thing entered her cave with a deep thrust, the slap slap a storm of Slap! Slap! SLAP!, each sound a thunderclap that seared the tent’s air. Lara’s cry was a wild "AHH! YES!"—her voice a hawk’s scream, her freckled skin flushed, her hands gripping the furs with a scrunch scrunch. The quelch quelch was a wet pulse, a rhythm that matched Arielle’s thump thump heart, her own shlick shlick quickening as she watched, her core throbbing with a wildfire of desire. Tara’s slrp! continued, her lips teasing Lyan’s jewels, her mmh! a soft spark, while Sigrid recovered, leaning in for a kiss, her slrp! fierce and hungry, her blue eyes blazing.

"Keep going, Chief Husband," Lara roared between slap slap, her green eyes wide with bliss, her red braid swaying with each Slap! SLAP!. The quelch quelch was a primal tide, her cave stretching to hold Lyan’s rhythm, her cries peaking with a "FILL ME! GRRRAH!" that shook the tent, her lean frame shuddering as her belly swelled slightly. The slap slap slowed, Lara collapsing with a thump, her breath a huff huff, her green eyes fluttering. "You’re too much..." she murmured, her voice a soft growl, her freckled nose crinkling in the lantern’s light.

Tara was next, her fair frame yielding against the furs, her thyme-scented hair a golden veil, her brown eyes warm with hunger. Lyan’s thing entered her cave with a forceful slap slap, a Slap! Slap! SLAP! that echoed like a storm’s roar, her cry a wild "MNNHHHH! ROUGHER!"—her voice a doe’s bleat turned fierce. The quelch quelch was a wet pulse, her slender frame arching, her hands gripping the furs with a scrunch scrunch. Sigrid’s slrp! resumed, her lips finding Lyan’s, her mmh! a warrior’s hymn, while Lara’s slrp! teased his jewels, her green eyes glinting. Arielle’s shlick shlick was frantic, her core trembling, the plug pulsing as she watched, her spectacles slipping, her breath a ragged huff huff.

Tara’s cries peaked, a raw "FILL ME! YES!" that tore through the tent, her fair frame shuddering, her belly swelling slightly as the slap slap stilled, her collapse a thump onto the furs. "Chief Husband... everything..." she murmured, her brown eyes fluttering, her thyme-scented hair splayed. The mountain women lay exhausted, their huff huff breaths a chorus, their bare forms glistening in the lantern’s glow, the slap slap and slrp! fading into the tent’s quiet.

Arielle’s heart pounded, her shlick shlick stilled, her core still humming as she peeked, her spectacles fogging, her cheeks burning. But Lara’s green eyes caught hers, glinting with mischief. "Stewardess Warrior, spying again?" she teased, her red braid swaying, her freckled nose crinkling. Sigrid’s blue eyes sparkled, her laugh a booming ha ha. "Caught you," she growled, her blonde ponytail swaying. Tara’s brown eyes softened, her huff huff

breath warm. "No hiding," she murmured.

Lyan’s dark eyes met Arielle’s, his scar glinting, his half-smile a quiet invitation. "Come," he said, his voice a low rumble, his hand extending with a brush brush. Arielle’s breath caught, her thump thump heart a storm as she crawled forward, the rustle rustle of furs loud in her ears, the plug pulsing, her cave throbbing. She settled onto his lap, her soft frame trembling, her tunic creaking with a creak creak as she felt his huge thing beneath her, its heat and size a shock that sent a jolt through her core. So big, she thought, her spectacles fogging, her cheeks flushed as she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a tentative slrp!.

The kiss deepened, a fervent slrp! slrp! that drowned out the tent’s quiet, Lyan’s hands steadying her with a brush brush, his mmh! a quiet vow that set her nerves alight. Arielle’s core tightened, the plug pulsing, her cave throbbing as she pressed closer, her mmh! a soft spark that wove into his. "My Lord..." she whispered between slrp!, her voice a shy plea, her spectacles slipping as she surrendered to the fire. Sigrid’s blue eyes blazed, her ha ha a warrior’s cheer. "Kiss him fierce, Stewardess Warrior!" she growled, her blonde ponytail swaying.

Lara and Tara stirred, their exhaustion fading, their bare forms radiant as they recovered. Lara leaned in, her lips joining Lyan’s with a fierce slrp!, her green eyes flashing, her red braid swaying. "Back for more, Chief Husband," she teased, her mmh! a playful growl. Tara’s lips found his jewels, her slrp! reverent, her thyme-scented hair swaying, her brown eyes warm. "Always yours," she murmured, her mmh! a soft hymn. Sigrid knelt behind Lyan, her lips claiming his in a slrp! that was fierce and hungry, her blue eyes blazing, her muscular frame pressed close.

Lyan’s thing stirred beneath Arielle, the brush brush of her movements electric, her cave throbbing as she kissed him, the slrp! slrp! a fervent dance that wove into the mountain women’s rhythm. Arielle’s cries were soft, a "MMH! MY LORD!" that echoed their fire, her soft frame trembling, her hands gripping his shoulders with a scrunch scrunch. The tent pulsed with their shared heat, the slrp! and slap slap a primal symphony, the lantern’s flicker casting shadows across their entwined forms.

As the passion peaked, the mountain women rejoined, their slrp! and slap slap weaving into the rhythm, their cries a chorus of "CHIEF HUSBAND!" and "MORE!" that shook the tent. Arielle’s core trembled, her mmh! a soft spark as she clung to Lyan, the slrp! slrp! of their kisses a vow that bound them. The slap slap slowed, the women collapsing onto the furs with a thump, their huff huff breaths a chorus, their bare forms glistening in the lantern’s glow.

Lyan guided Arielle to lie atop him, her soft frame nestled close, his huge thing a warm presence against her cave, the plug pulsing as she settled, her breath a contented huff huff. Sigrid curled beside them, her muscular arm draped over Arielle, her blonde ponytail splayed across the furs. Lara nestled close, her red braid a fiery halo, her green eyes fluttering in bliss. Tara’s thyme-scented hair brushed Arielle’s cheek, her fair frame glowing, her brown eyes soft with warmth.

Arielle’s heart swelled, her thump thump a steady rhythm, her core humming with the aftershocks of their fire. I’m theirs, she thought, her scholar’s mind weaving a new ledger of fire and starlight, the tent a cocoon of warmth and love. The lantern’s flicker faded, the crackle crackle of the firepit a distant heartbeat, the tick tick of the ants a soft hum. Their laughter wove a tapestry of warmth, their bond a flame that would burn through any storm, Arielle sleeping atop Lyan, his presence a vow that tethered her to this family of fire and starlight.