Ignoring Ritchie's wounded look and his erect cock, Marilyn dressed, buttoning her shirt. To avoid stoking his desire, she didn't clean herself in front of him.
"Your injuries should be mostly healed. Didn't expect this to work," she said, her tone calm, as if she hadn't been writhing under him moments ago.
"Can we… still…" Ritchie stammered.
Marilyn blushed, glaring but softening. "Know restraint. If you behave, we'll see."
Seeing his erection, she panicked. "Put your pants on!" she ordered, fleeing to the back.
Randy was there, hand between her thighs, caught in the act. Both women froze, embarrassed. Marilyn smiled, pointing to her head and stomach. "Really exhausting," she whispered.
Her voice carried in the cave. Ritchie overheard, mortified, realizing the team knew about his affairs.
The escape continued. By the fourth day, the trio emerged from the mountains. Ritchie, mostly recovered, found travel easier. Each evening, they rested, an unspoken agreement to linger.
Ritchie always gravitated to Marilyn, coaxing or pestering for sex. She obliged, but with a rule: stop after climax. "Play has limits. A man controls himself; only kids are reckless," she said. Ritchie wanted to be that reckless kid, craving endless sex with her.
But Marilyn, soft yet unyielding, was resolute, her words like nails in wood, immovable.
Ritchie was a cunning man, always quick to exploit a loophole. He knew Marilyn wouldn't go back on her word, so every night during their intimate moments, he deliberately moved slowly, teasing her with measured restraint. The moment he sensed Marilyn nearing climax, he'd stop abruptly.
This tactic left Marilyn helpless. Worse, Ritchie refused to let her reach that peak, staying inside her all night long. It frustrated her to no end, yet she couldn't truly resent him. Deep down, Marilyn secretly relished the sensation, the way he filled her.
Each morning, when Ritchie withdrew, she felt an aching emptiness, as if something vital was missing. She wondered if this was her own wanton nature at play.
Over those three days, Ritchie didn't limit his attentions to Marilyn alone. Randy was not spared either. On the first night, Marilyn's words had caught him off guard, and he'd spent the entire time with her. But by the second day, he'd wised up. He'd start with Randy, who was easily satisfied, and once she was spent, he'd return to Marilyn for the rest of the night.
Those three days were steeped in both decadence and tenderness. If not for the need to keep watch, the three of them might have tangled together under one blanket.
Once they left the mountains, the roads became easier to travel. By the fourth afternoon, they encountered a patrol. Randy and Ritchie's timely report had prompted two cavalry regiments stationed at the front to rush to Glasloval. The city was now under tight security.
After a brief interrogation, their identities were confirmed. The rest of the journey was uneventful, and soon Glasloval loomed before them. As Ritchie gazed at the familiar city, a strange wave of emotion washed over him.
Perhaps it was the clarity of surviving a brush with death. Only by nearly losing everything did he realize how precious what he had truly was.
Suddenly, Ritchie leaned close to Marilyn and whispered, "Marry me."
Marilyn, seated in her battle armor, froze, half-convinced she'd misheard.
"Will you marry me?" Ritchie repeated. He'd been with many women, but only with Marilyn did he feel truly at ease.
"Is this a proposal?" Marilyn laughed, and even Randy, perched on her shoulder, joined in.
Ritchie's face flushed crimson. He realized how foolish he'd been. Proposing in front of another woman, one he'd also been intimate with, no less?
The three of them maintained an awkward silence all the way back to camp.
At the camp, everyone was present, not a single soul missing. This mission had been perilous, but their preparation had paid off. Nora had spotted the enemy first, and the entire squad was fully armed. The Valedins, despite their numbers, weren't as fortunate. Half were resting, and even their armored knights were low on energy, caught off guard.
With their plans exposed and supply vehicles destroyed, the Valedin knights' mission was deemed a failure. Their pursuit of Carrie's squad was little more than a vengeful tantrum.
Upon their return, Ritchie found the entire camp waiting for them. News of their escape had reached the camp the previous day via the patrol.
Ritchie had never received such a warm welcome. Even the three sisters, who once glared at him with venom, now treated him with kindness. Captain Carrie, too, seemed to carry a touch more warmth than usual.
Three medals lay in a row on the table.
"These are yours," Captain Carrie announced. "Deputy Captain Marilyn, for bravely covering your comrades' retreat, you are awarded the Medal of Courage."
Marilyn saluted, stepped forward, accepted her medal, and stepped aside.
"Military Officer Randy, for your timely report to headquarters and your efforts in rescuing your comrades, you are awarded the First-Class Honor Medal."
Randy stepped forward, accepted her medal, and returned to her place.
Ritchie knew it was his turn. Honestly, with one bronze and two silver medals on display, their value was obvious. He'd assumed he'd get the bronze, given his minor role. To his surprise, the bronze went to Marilyn, the highest-ranking and most impactful of them all.
"Third-Class Sergeant Ritchie, for diligently protecting your superiors, ensuring headquarters received timely reports, and aiding your comrades, you are awarded the First-Class Honor Medal."
Despite it being his first time in such a ceremony, the small, familiar crowd kept Ritchie from feeling nervous. He mimicked Marilyn and Randy, saluting and stepping forward.
As Captain Carrie pinned the medal to his chest, Ritchie felt a sudden understanding of a knight's pursuit of honor. Perhaps he was halfway to being one himself.
"For your outstanding performance and achievements, you are promoted one rank," Carrie added.
Ritchie blinked, stunned. Promotions rarely came with medals in the army. Usually, it was one or the other.
Though the unexpected promotion didn't thrill him as much as he'd expected. Knights weren't like officers; advancing was straightforward. As long as your strength grew, your rank followed. Cases like Lina, whose strength outstripped her rank, were rare.
"Go home," Master Diana said gently. "Your parents must be worried sick. Take three days off."
...