See Part One for Disclaimers.

Part Four

It was the most incredible kiss Taja had ever experienced.  She had thought nothing could rival the intensity she had felt with Tomás, but this. . .  The part of her mind that was somehow detached enough to still think through the fire spreading through her whispered,  Oh, wow.  That was in the first few moments, before even the ability to think had shut down.  Whatever she had imagined, fantasized, about Siro, this beat all expectations; the man knew how to  kiss.

Every inch of her seemed to be aflame, all of it spreading outwards from the contact point of his skin against hers; his mouth, devouring hers with hungry, but somehow incredibly gentle, passion, leaving no trace of her self-control behind.  The world narrowed to only him, only the touch of his hands on her, sliding down water-slicked skin, exploring and demanding the same from her.  She gave it gladly, enjoying freely the feel of him, the heat of his skin, the strength of the muscles beneath . . . the obvious arousal pressed against her belly that even the cold of the water couldn't erase.

She would have been gratified to know that Siro was feeling every bit as dazed and consumed as his �victim.'   The water itself seemed to be caressing, adding to the sensations that threatened to overwhelm him.  Taja's hands seemed impossibly small and delicate as they traveled along his ribcage, down to his hips and buttocks, then sliding to the front to tease him mercilessly, never quite touching his cock.  He groaned into her mouth and felt more than heard her chuckle; revenge came when he slid his fingertips against her breasts, stroking slowly down until he reached the apex of her thighs.  The wetness he felt there was warm, definitely not the water of the cascade they were standing under.  He smiled as he felt her gasp.

The smile broke the kiss, but it gave them a chance to breathe.  Brown eyes met blue, heated, wanting -- completely astounded.  Taja started to speak, but motion in the water below them caught her eye.  The ex-thief looked away from Siro, frowning slightly in curiosity, and found herself looking straight into the eyes of the other man she had been daydreaming about earlier.  Kung Lao.

The breath caught in her throat, first in self-consciousness and then in surprised arousal as she saw the naked desire in his eyes.  She breathed his name and felt Siro look, freeze in place, tension suddenly in his frame.  Kung Lao didn't look away from either of them, nor did he speak; Taja frowned as she tried to analyze what she saw on his face.  Then the tension seemed to ebb in her mind, replaced by a shimmer of emotion that some part of her knew did not come from her own heart but that of the man in front of her.  The empathy seemed completely natural, as if it had always been there, and she found herself paying attention to what was received rather than the question of where it had come from.  It wasn't difficult: Kung Lao's emotions were complex, and they echoed an ache she had known for too long.

Desire, yes, but also love, tenderness, need . . . and fear.  Fear of what  they would say, the possibility that they would turn away from him.  That they wouldn't feel for him what he felt, wouldn't want to share the intimacy they had found with one another, the connection.  That he would be alone, again and always.  It broke Taja's heart.

Without truly thinking about it, she raised a hand and offered it to him.  At the same time, she heard Siro's voice, soft and gentle, saying the other man's name.  Inviting him as Taja was doing, to share in the experience, to strengthen the bond that already existed between the three of them.  They were friends, companions; they fought together, bled together; they shared pain and comfort, hurt and relief.  It was only right that they share themselves as well, adding love to faith and loyalty, giving one another what they each needed so much.

Kung Lao's eyes shone with unshed tears and he reached up to take Taja's hand, his fingers brushing against hers as she sat down on the ledge, and then lowered herself into the water.  The pond was shallow enough at this point so that they could easily stand, even if they hadn't been toe to toe as they were now.  Taja looked deep into her friend's eyes, reading the desire and  want there, the need for love and acceptance, and felt tears in her own eyes.  "Kung Lao," she whispered, as gently as Siro had, and lifted her hands to cradle his face.  Then, purposefully slow, she leaned forward and kissed him.

This kiss wasn't magnetic, as it had been with Siro, nor was it instantly molten.  This kiss was one of complete acceptance, of offering . . . and healing.  Sweet and slow, exquisitely gentle, sending Kung Lao's soul soaring even as his body responded in other ways, equally strong.  His arms came around her waist as her mouth moved on his, eagerly taking in her warmth, her strength, his body molding to hers.  But it wasn't desire that was at the forefront of his mind or heart: it was relief, so strong that he felt himself starting to shake.  It was a distant joy that he hadn't thought to ever feel again, but acknowledged that he had needed to for a very long time.  It was the joy that came from having offered up your heart and having it, not trodden upon, but warmly accepted, strengthened, joined with another and then returned with interest.

Taja's arms were around him, her hands stroking through his hair as he pulled away from the kiss and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder.  Tears fell silently against her pale skin, joining the water of the pond as they trickled down, and she held him tightly.  She said nothing, only made small sounds of comfort and acceptance, so that not even a semblance of shame could take root in his warrior's mind.  Kung Lao felt another touch on his shoulder, this one from hands larger than those of the ex-thief.  Arms that came around them both, warm breath joining Taja's against his neck, strength and friendship that equaled hers but was somehow less expected.  Siro's embrace was just as tight, encompassing them both, taking them into himself without hesitation.  Kung Lao accepted it in the same way.

He pulled away from the embrace slowly, almost reluctantly, then caught Taja's face in his hands as gently as she had his.  He kissed her softly, letting it grow more impassioned when she encouraged him, and felt both her hands and Siro's on his shoulders and back, drawing him out of any kind of self-consciousness or tension.  Kung Lao ended the kiss after a long time, dazed by the rush of feeling as much as he was by Taja's skill, only to feel gentle fingers along his chin, turning his face away from the ex-thief.  Kung Lao allowed it, curious, and had a moment to focus on the tenderness and question in Siro's eyes before he found himself being kissed again.

Taja watched Siro's mouth settle on Kung Lao's and felt the molten heat in her belly grow even stronger.  Siro kissed the younger man with every bit of the passion he had shown with Taja, and the ex-thief watched hungrily as Kung Lao responded as eagerly as she had, too caught up in the other man's sheer skill to think about  who was kissing him.  Taja, on the other hand, was very aware of who was kissing whom.  Kung Lao was a good kisser, if not as experienced as Siro; sincerity positively emanated from every gentle, questing motion of his tongue and lips, bringing out a different side of her passion.  She wondered distantly if Siro was feeling the same thing now, that urge to protect as well as consume him.

The fire became an ache as the kiss continued, Siro apparently having decided to give equal time to the young monk as he had to the ex-thief.  The ache was concentrated in the lowest part of Taja's belly, centered in her womb and then radiating outward as a slow, building throb of arousal and desire down to the joining of her thighs.  She wanted to touch them both, feel them touch her, feel those wonderfully soft mouths elsewhere on her skin.  She wanted to see if the rest of their skin was that soft, to taste them, explore them with hands and lips and tongue.

Without conscious thought or decision she moved around until she was slightly behind Kung Lao, lowering her mouth to kiss his shoulder, her tongue flicking out to lick away the droplets of water that clung to his smooth olive skin.  She felt and heard him make a small sound, smiled and repeated the action, enjoying the texture of him on her tongue, the taste of both the water and his skin, imagining what other things would taste and feel like.  Her hands wandered across his back as she continued to explore his shoulders and then the nape of his neck with her mouth, sliding down to the slender hips and firm buttocks, then around to his chest where it met with Siro's.  Her arms circled them both, as Siro's had done earlier, not quite reaching as far but exploring all the same.

She lowered herself slightly in the water, her mouth trailing down the slope of Kung Lao's back to where it met with water, following the narrow ridge of his spine, her hands still wandering enthusiastically.  She didn't really notice who she was touching now, nor did she care, caught up entirely in the play of smooth skin over strong muscle as they moved.  Until the movement was that of turning around, and she felt strong hands grasping her arms to pull her up before she could admire the new skin that had been abruptly revealed, or even notice any details besides the very definite state of arousal.

Taja started to protest, only to find her mouth being otherwise occupied, and her caresses being returned rather ardently.  When Kung Lao's mouth left hers it was to pursue a similar exploration as she had employed, but on her throat, collarbone, then down to the tops of her breasts as he turned in the water, lifting and turning her as well.  The motion was accomplished swiftly and easily, so that almost before she was fully aware of it she felt her back pressed against Siro, his arousal as clear against her buttocks as it had been under the waterfall.

Siro dipped down slightly in the water, as she had done, but his purpose was very different.  As if the two men had discussed it silently, Siro's arms snaked under her hips, his hands joining, and then he lifted her, his fore-arms acting as a kind of cradle as he pulled her up and back against his chest.  Taja could still feel his erection, pressed almost teasingly against her bottom, and her arms lifted instinctively to wrap about his neck; any question or protest she might have thought to make was lost as the intent of his action became clear.  Kung Lao moved forward, the heat of his body, the strong line of his abdomen, pressed against the opened �V' of her thighs.  His mouth was unhindered by water now, and the young monk took full advantage of it, pressing a sudden assault on her breasts that left her gasping.

Taja wouldn't have thought her friend knew how to  do this kind of thing, but apparently both Jen and the faux-Kitana had taught him far more than she'd imagined.  His mouth slid across one breast with heated kisses before settling almost gently over her nipple, one hand rising from the water to mimic the caresses on her other breast.  But it was a pale mimicry.  His mouth was hot and wet, both hungry and incredibly, exquisitely gentle as he suckled her, first one breast and then the other.  Taja let out a small moan, letting her head fall back into the crook of Siro's neck then to the side, until her cheek rested on the broad expanse of his shoulder, and felt the ex-Guard start to kiss the exposed slope of her neck.  Little shivers started to work their way across her skin, starting as pinpoints of delicious hot-cold where their skin touched hers and then spreading rapidly outwards, and Taja moved instinctively against the men pressed so close to her, body and soul.

Her legs wrapped around Kung Lao's waist, pulling him closer, while her hips pressed back, rubbing invitingly across Siro's groin.  She swayed, ever so slightly, pushing back and then forward, striving to feel every inch of both of them, knowing she could never succeed.  She could feel them both rock-hard against her, could almost feel the seductive pulsing in their cocks as they fought against the invitation her body was extending to theirs.  Kung Lao's mouth abandoned its attentions to her breasts as he straightened, one hand rising to slip under her head and pull her forward into a kiss even more intense than Siro's had been, his other hand sliding down to the apex of her thighs, where he was pressed against her opening.

Taja let one arm drop from its position around Siro's neck and placed it around Kung Lao's instead, balanced precariously not only between their bodies, but on the ledge of her own self-control.  She had never felt so completely aflame, so totally entwined in passion and connection with another, let alone two others.  Two others, two men, with whom she shared everything -- or almost everything -- in her life; two in whom she trusted unconditionally, unreservedly; two for whom she would die, and whom she knew felt the same for her.  It was what she had wanted fervently for a very long time, even if not in this exact context -- but this was just one more level.  She wanted them, both of them, more than she had ever wanted anyone in her life, and what was even better, even more orgasmic in and of itself: they wanted her.

She felt almost empty, abandoned, when Kung Lao pulled back abruptly, the shift in position upsetting the balance Siro held so that the ex-Guard nearly dropped her.  He managed to catch her slightly, setting her down gently on the sandy ground, his arm sliding up and remaining about her waist as they both stared in surprise at Kung Lao.  The young monk stared back at them, his chest heaving, and swallowed hard.  They waited, feeling an unaccustomed anxiety as the thought occurred to both of them that Kung Lao might have changed his mind.  But then he smiled, slowly, his dark eyes almost glowing as he stepped forward to touch first Taja's cheek and then Siro's with gentle fingers.  "It just occurred to me," Kung Lao said solemnly, "that unless we want to drown ourselves, we should continue this on the shore."

Taja and Siro blinked in surprise, exchanged a glance, then looked back to Kung Lao.  Their smiles were almost identical.  Siro stepped back, removing his arm from about Taja's waist to motion towards the grassy slope and the blanket that awaited them.  "Ladies first," he suggested, the light tone somewhat wrecked by the huskiness of his voice.

Taja chuckled.  "You just want to see my ass."

Kung Lao surprised them both by grinning.  "Absolutely."

~*~

"And that, my lord Rayden," Cyreen informed a stunned thunder god, "is how you put three soul-mates together."

She was positively preening, seated comfortably on a smooth boulder with one knee raised as she leaned back on her elbows.  Rayden moved his gaze a bit reluctantly from the trio making their way to the shore, and looked at her contemplatively.  She was entirely too smug about her success, the silver-haired god decided.  But I think I can distract her from it.  "Let's give them some privacy then, shall we?" he asked.

Cyreen looked over at him as his voice rumbled seductively, noted the smile on his face as he moved towards her, and grinned in anticipation.  "Of course, my lord," she murmured, her tone matching his exactly.

When the group finally left the pond, the three warriors together in truth, the thunder god with a small, fond smile, it was very late indeed.  But what the joy they had each found there had only just begun.

--end--

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