Love isn't always loud. Sometimes, it's the silence between glances, the touch under the table, the kiss when no one's watching…
---
The office air was cool, sterile, full of soft clacking keyboards and the hum of coffee machines—but to Liora, it all faded beneath the heat crawling under her skin.
She had barely made it five minutes after the meeting before stepping into the break room. Empty. Quiet. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she walked toward the far counter and pretended to search for sugar.
Then she felt it—the door clicked shut. Keal's presence filled the room like thunder without a sound. A second later, Rivan entered behind him, locking the door with a calm flick of his fingers.
"You made us wait," Keal murmured, leaning against the counter beside her.
"I had… emails," she whispered, not turning.
"You had us, earlier," Rivan said behind her. "Still do."
Before she could react, Keal's hand brushed her hip, sliding slowly along the curve of her waist. Rivan moved behind her, his fingers slipping into the gap between her blouse and skirt.
Liora gasped softly. "Not here…"
But her voice was breathy, weak.
"No one's coming," Keal whispered. "Not unless we make them."
She almost laughed, but Rivan's hands stilled her breath as he pressed close. "We couldn't stop thinking about this morning," he said, kissing the back of her neck. "How soft you were. How you begged…"
Liora turned, lips brushing against Keal's cheek before she tilted toward Rivan, kissing him deeply—hungrily. Her arms wrapped around them both, fingers clenching their shirts. A hand slipped under her blouse, another traced down her thigh.
She wasn't sure who kissed her next. Who lifted her onto the counter. Who pulled her legs apart and whispered, "Let us take care of you."
She just knew she let go. And they made her forget the office, the world, even herself—for a little while.
---
The apartment lights were dim when they returned, the city glowing through tall glass windows. Shoes were kicked off, ties tugged loose, and Liora barely made it to the living room before she was lifted into Rivan's arms.
He carried her down the hallway like she was made of porcelain.
The bedroom door shut with a soft thud.
She stood between them now, her blouse half open, her skirt slipping down her hips. Keal's fingers gently undid the clasp of her bra, while Rivan kissed the hollow of her throat, his hands caressing her thighs.
"I want tonight to be everything," Liora whispered. "Like when we began."
"You mean when you demanded we ruin you?" Keal teased, his voice low with desire.
She grinned. "Exactly that."
Rivan laughed, lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. "Then let's start over…"
They worshipped her—every inch. Slow, teasing touches. Tender kisses. Whispers of "you're beautiful," and "mine," and "don't hold back." They moved together like the ocean and the moon—pulling, rising, falling.
Liora trembled beneath them, her nails dragging down Rivan's back, her breath hitching as Keal kissed lower, deeper.
"I want your baby," she said between kisses. "I want all of us… to grow again."
"We won't stop," Rivan growled, his hands gripping her hips.
"We'll fill you with so much love, you'll never doubt it again," Keal whispered, lips on her shoulder.
They didn't sleep until the city lights faded, until the moon sank low. Until Liora was a mess of sweat and moans and love and everything soft she ever wanted.
---
Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a golden glow across the master bedroom. The air was warm with the scent of roses lingering from the night before, and the soft rustle of bedsheets whispered against bare skin.
Liora stirred first.
She was tucked between them—Keal on her left, his arm slung protectively over her waist, and Rivan on her right, his leg tangled around hers. Her head rested against Rivan's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. She sighed softly, a peaceful, sleepy sound.
Keal blinked awake when he felt her shift. His lips brushed her shoulder. "Good morning, angel…"
Rivan grumbled, still half-asleep. "Not morning. Too early. Still dreaming."
Liora laughed lightly, her voice husky from sleep. "Then I must be your dream."
"You always are," Rivan murmured, finally opening his eyes and turning toward her. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips—slow, unhurried.
She returned the kiss, then reached out to Keal, pulling him closer too. "Let's just stay like this… forever."
Keal tucked her hair behind her ear. "We could. Or we could start forever with breakfast in bed."
Rivan perked up. "With whipped cream?"
Keal smirked. "You mean for the pancakes or her?"
Liora groaned, throwing a pillow at them both before laughing. "I'm hungry… but not just for food."
They ended up sitting cross-legged on the bed, wrapped in sheets, plates balanced on laps. Pancakes, strawberries, and a messy attempt at syrup and cream. Rivan fed her a bite, purposefully smearing a bit on her lips so he could lick it off. Keal took it as a challenge, offering her a strawberry between his teeth and watching her lean in to take it.
Liora flushed, heat dancing in her cheeks. "You both are so impossible."
"We learned from the best," Keal teased.
As they ate, she leaned back into Rivan's chest, fingers absently playing with the hem of Keal's shirt. Then her tone shifted, quiet but firm.
"I want us to go back," she said softly, "to the beginning. When we couldn't keep our hands off each other, when love was messy and constant. When every time we were home, you'd both make love to me until I was too tired to think."
Rivan swallowed hard. "Liora…"
"Don't stop," she whispered. "Until I get pregnant. I want you both… every moment. Until it happens."
Keal set his plate aside and moved closer. "We'll give you everything, love. Every second. Every heartbeat."
They lay back again, tangled together, but this time slower—gentler. Their bodies remembered the rhythm of love, but now it was more than desire. It was something blooming.
Later, after laughter and touches and whispered names, Liora lay between them again, staring at the ceiling.
A soft flutter in her stomach. Not quite pain. Not quite nausea. Just a twist of something unfamiliar.
Keal noticed her stillness. "What is it?"
She hesitated, then placed a hand on her belly. "I don't know. I feel… weird."
Rivan sat up a bit, brushing her hair back. "Weird how?"
"Just… lightheaded. And my body feels different. It could be nothing, but—" she paused. "Or maybe…"
Keal's eyes widened. "Do you think…?"
She gave a small, nervous smile. "It's too early to say anything. But maybe something's already started."
They both leaned in, placing their hands over hers, right on her stomach.
"If it has," Rivan whispered, "then it's already the most loved baby in the world."
Keal kissed her temple. "We'll wait. We'll hope. And no matter what, we're with you."
The moment stretched—quiet, sacred, full of wonder.
Outside, the world moved on. But in that sun-drenched room, with hearts full and hope blooming, everything was exactly where it belonged.
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