Page 274 of May: Bloom & Bane

“You’re keeping the coat on, ash’kaela,” I murmur. “But this—” We drag a claw downward, tracing the line of her sternum, slicing her dress open. “Has to go.”

The icy mountain air rushes over her breasts only a heartbeat before I press her flat against our chest. The sensation is explosive. Her soft, warm curves pinned against my bones.

Something warm runs down my ribcage, and the sweet scent of her níva floods our senses.

Mmm, Sage moans. Tell me you feel that.

I feel it.

It runs in a slow, wet path down the groove of my hips. I gather every drop with two fingers.

“Ash, what are you doing?”

“Tasting you,” I whisper. I press my wet fingers to her lips, smearing the sweet drop of nectar across her bottom lip.

Her eyes go wide as she tastes herself.

“Neeth,” Sage rumbles. “Our nest. Our mate. Do you taste how sweet you are, luváel?”

My head drops, tongue sweeping over her bottom lip to catch the lingering sweetness before I claim her mouth in a kiss that is completely feral. Sage is clawing at the surface of our mind, his hunger so loud and demanding that I can’t tell where my need ends and his begins.

She moans into the kiss, her nipples rubbing over my ribs as she presses closer. Shadow tendrils slide out from my back, wrapping around her thighs and lifting her higher so her slick heat lines up perfectly with the thick, rigid lengths pressing against her.

Our wings snap tight behind us, dropping us a few breathtaking feet in the air before I catch the wind again. The sudden dip has her gasping against my mouth.

“Ashán, please,” she whimpers, her hips rolling desperately. “I can’t… you’re driving me crazy. Just put it in.”

“Which one?” Sage growls against her jaw, gripping her hips so hard my skelva leave small crescent-shaped marks. “Tell us which one you want first, ílyen.”

“Both,” she gasps. “I want both.”

A snarl slips from our throat.

She said both, Sage groans.

“A dangerous request, Saevúra,” he growls against her mouth. A dark laugh rolls through us.

“What?” She blinks dazedly. “You asked⁠—”

“We haven’t even touched you yet,” he murmurs, dragging a knuckle down the slope of her breast, watching goosebumps rise in its wake, “and you’re asking for both.”

“Our brave little mortal,” I croon against her temple.

“Delusional,” Sage agrees fondly. “We adore her.”

“I can—” her breath stutters as my knuckles travel over the curve of her belly.

“I can handle it.”

“Mm.” My hand stills at the crease of her thigh, close enough that her whole body tightens in anticipation. “For the record, ílyen—we believe you. You will take both of us tonight.”

She nods, her wide green eyes looking incredibly earnest, like a sweet, helpless woodland creature, even as she tries to maintain her fierce, demanding glare. It’s the most beautifully ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.

“Eventually,” she adds in a small, breathless voice, her gaze flickering down to her heavy, rounded stomach blocking the view of the twin threats currently pressed against her.

My lips twitch in amusement.

Sage lets out a low chuckle. “Yes, ílyara. Eventually. But we are going to take our sweet time stretching you first.”