Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone Chapter 545 - 540: Private Hours

The joint watch settled into its new rhythm by the third night. Four from the temple and four from the northern house held the marker line in overlapping pairs. The road stayed quiet. No more ambushes. No fresh bodies.

The northern house sent a short rider at dusk with a sealed note that simply confirmed the outpost result and accepted the shared road arrangement without further conditions. External pressure eased enough that the temple could breathe.

Selene found Aiden in the upper corridor after the evening briefing. She did not speak at first. She only touched his wrist and nodded toward the narrow stair that led to the unused chambers above the eastern wing.

The rooms there had once housed visiting priests. Now they stood empty, the beds still made, the shutters latched against the wind. She chose the farthest one and locked the door behind them.

Neither of them rushed. Aiden set his sword belt on the low chest. Selene unfastened the clasps of her outer robe and let it fall. Underneath she wore only a thin shift.

She stepped close, took his face in both hands, and kissed him the way she had almost done in the courtyard days earlier—slow, deliberate, without the risk of interruption.

He answered the same way. Their mouths stayed open, breathing shared, tongues measured.

Clothes came off piece by piece. Her shift. His tunic. The rest. They did not speak much. When she guided him back onto the bed she kept her eyes on his. Her hands mapped the bruises left from the recent fighting, then moved lower.

She stroked him until he was fully hard, then slid down and took him into her mouth. She worked without haste, one hand steady at the base, the other resting on his thigh. Aiden’s fingers threaded into her hair. He did not push. He only held on and watched her.

When she rose again he pulled her up and reversed their positions. He kissed the inside of her knees, then higher, until his mouth settled between her legs. She was already wet. He licked slowly, two fingers sliding in after a time, curling until her hips lifted.

Her breathing stayed controlled, but her hand tightened in his hair when she came. She did not cry out. She only exhaled his name once and pulled him up.

They shifted until she straddled him. She guided him inside herself with one hand and sank down in a single smooth motion. Both of them stilled for a moment, foreheads touching. Then she began to move. Long, unhurried rolls of her hips. He met her with shallow thrusts from below.

Their eyes stayed locked. Every few breaths she leaned down to kiss him again, soft and open. Sweat gathered between them. The only sounds were the shift of the bed and their shared breathing.

She came a second time with her face buried against his neck. He followed soon after, buried deep, both hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave faint marks.

They stayed joined while their heart rates slowed. Eventually she slid off and settled against his side. His arm went around her. Neither reached for clothes.

"This is the later I meant," she said quietly.

"I know."

They lay like that for a long stretch. Outside the shutters the night wind moved across the roof. No one knocked. No runner came. The chamber stayed theirs until the candle burned low.

Near midnight a soft knock finally sounded. Selene rose, pulled on her shift, and cracked the door.

A young runner stood there with a brief report: remnant stragglers sighted farther west, fewer than a dozen, moving away from the road and showing no interest in the marker line.

The threat was noted and deferred until morning. Selene closed the door, returned to the bed, and stretched out beside Aiden again. The night remained private.

Morning brought the next piece of business. A second rider from the northern house arrived with a formal request.

Emboldened by the clean cooperation on the outpost and the road, they asked for a temporary increase in the joint watch—six and six instead of four and four—for the next half-month while a larger supply caravan moved along the route.

It was framed as a request, not a demand, but everyone understood the politics. Refusal would cost capital the temple could not easily spare.

Selene and Aiden reviewed the numbers with the duty officers and accepted under clear conditions:

the extra northern blades would answer to the same rotation schedule, share the same standing orders, and leave when the caravan cleared the road. The northern house agreed without argument.

Kaelara took the expanded rotation personally for the first day. She claimed the late shift on the marker line and made no secret that she expected Aiden beside her.

He joined her without comment after the midday meal. The hours on the line were long and mostly uneventful. Six pairs walked the marked stretch in overlapping arcs.

The road stayed empty. Wind moved through the dry grass. Residual awareness of the recent fighting lingered in the way both of them scanned the horizon, but nothing rose to meet them.

When the relief team arrived under full dark, Kaelara and Aiden turned back toward the outer wards. They did not stop on the open road.

Just inside the first ward stones stood a disused storage alcove, stone walls, a single wooden door that still locked, shelves empty of everything but dust. Kaelara pushed the door open, pulled him inside, and barred it.

There was no slow undressing. She kissed him hard, teeth grazing his lower lip, and shoved his coat off his shoulders. Her own gloves came off next.

Strong hands worked his belt open while his fingers found the laces of her trousers. She was already wet when he reached between her legs. She made a low sound of approval and pushed his hand harder against her.

"Here," she said. "Against the wall. Now."

He turned her, braced her hands on the rough stone, and shoved her trousers down far enough. She spread her stance without being told. He freed himself, lined up, and thrust in with one steady drive. She took the full length and pushed back into him.

The pace they set was hard and direct. His hands gripped her hips. Hers stayed flat on the wall for leverage. Each thrust drove a short, controlled breath from her. She did not soften the language.

"Harder. That’s it. Don’t hold back."

He gave her exactly that. The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the small space. She came first, body locking, a sharp sound caught behind her teeth.

He followed a handful of thrusts later, buried deep, forehead pressed to the back of her neck. They stayed locked that way until the aftershocks faded.

Then they separated cleanly. She pulled her trousers up and refastened her belt. He did the same. No lingering embrace. No soft words. Kaelara checked that the door was clear, unbarred it, and stepped out first.

They walked the remaining distance to the main compound side by side, speaking only of the next rotation times. At the inner gate they parted without further contact.

The expanded watch held through the night. The northern caravan was scheduled to move within the week. Inside the temple the personal threads continued to deepen alongside the external arrangements, each one distinct, none of them left in the almost.