Page 209 of May: Bloom & Bane

Her hips roll in tiny, helpless circles that only push the lily deeper. Her walls flutter and squeeze, more slick gushing out, dripping down my wrist and onto the workbench.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, mí’maru. We want you to soak us,” I groan.

Sage tugs roughly on the buds at her nipples.

Her back arches with a cry that fills the greenhouse. Her thighs clamp around my wrist as a sudden release of clear liquid sprays out around the bloom, soaking my hand in hot spurts. Eden’s thighs shake uncontrollably, her lavína pulsing and gushing again with each stroke of the lily.

Grab the other one, I gasp. Now.

His hand darts out and grabs the rabbit bloom from the case. Deep violet, with long petals splayed back like ears, a pale ridged stalk curving up from its center. Raised swirls spiral along the entire length.

I pull the lily free and she whimpers, hips chasing its return. I notch the thick, ridged stalk against her swollen, fluttering entrance. “This is the one you were begging for.”

I press it into her in one slow push, the thick shaft stretching her open.

“Ohh. There. Right there.” She moans, her nails dragging down our shoulders.

She’s barely seated on it before the bloom comes alive, the raised swirls rotating inside her, working in torturous circles while the violet petals splay against her overstimulated clit and start to thrum.

“Oh shit—oh shit—oh shit. It’s too much.”

“You just squirted all over your mates, and you’re going to do it again.”

I hold the rabbit deep, letting the swirls work inside her, the petals fluttering while the buds suck viciously on her nipples. My wrist twists, driving the stalk deeper into Eden’s soaked lavína. The thick length sinks in hard, the raised swirls massaging her inner walls with each forceful thrust.

“Rahnové—Vaelí—I can’t. It’s happening again. I can’t stop it.”

“I know, mí’maru. Let it.” I work the rabbit into her harder, swirls churning, petals thrumming. Sage tugs the rose buds harder on her nipples. “You don’t get to be shy about it anymore. We’re already covered in you, Eden.”

She clamps down on the bloom. Her walls spasm as I thrust faster, forcing wet squelches with every slam. The petals thrum mercilessly on her swollen clit. She gushes around the stalk, spraying warm fluid across my hand, and splattering our lap. It soaks straight into the vines holding her open, drawn through his green skin in one greedy pull. The fluid slams into Sage like fire, flooding his system all at once. The vines around Eden’s thighs flare darkly, squeezing her flesh harder. Fresh blooms burst open across our collarbones.

Shá, Sage slurs. Oh, that’s. Eden, that’s⁠—

Eloquent, I murmur.

That’s never—she’s never soaked my vines like that before. I didn’t know it could⁠—

Feel like that? I drag the rabbit slowly through her aftershocks.

The second she slumps against us, I lose all interest in the flowers. I rip the rabbit free of her and toss it somewhere across the greenhouse. It clinks against one of the planters. Sage’s half is already moving, both our hands coming to cup the rose-buds still sucking ravenously on her breasts.

Together? He asks.

Together.

We pull them off at the same time, and they release her swollen nipples with two wet pops, the buds overflowing with the níva they’ve been coaxing out of her this whole time. We bring the buds to our mouths and drink. Thick streams of nectar continue to stream down her breasts, running in heavy rivulets over the curve of her belly.

“Vresh, look at that,” I growl, leaning in and sealing our mouth over one of her dripping nipples, drawing her níva straight down our throat.

Aevún, Sage groans. She tastes so good.

He takes over, sucking harder, our tongue lashing over her peaked flesh. His vines tighten around her thighs and waist, yanking her limp body flush against our chest.

My cock has been throbbing since she first squirmed into my lap with nothing under that dress. Now it’s rock-hard and trapped, the thick length pinned between our stomach and her swollen belly. I hook an arm under her thigh and move her enough that I can slide through her soaked pélas.

“Ashán—”

“I’ve got you,” I murmur.