Page 294 of May: Bloom & Bane

“I’ve got you.”

Vines surge up from the bedding, weaving quickly into a swell of cushioned support. Ashán’s shadows pour in alongside them, the two of us building her a plush, breathing bolster of greenery and darkness, suspended just high enough to cradle the weight of our daughter.

She sinks forward with a shaky moan, knees spread wide, presenting herself to us without an inch of discomfort.

The sight of her on her knees, swollen with our child, dripping and ready, nearly finishes me on the spot. The sweet floral scent of her arousal is suffocating.

“Vresh,” I breathe, one hand spreading over the curve of her, the other guiding the aching head of my cock through her swollen lips and over her kísh, smearing her wetness over the crown. She whimpers and pushes back against me.

“Look at how perfect you are,” I rasp. “I’ve wanted to be back inside you since you woke up this morning.”

“Then why did you wait so long?” She pushes back further. “I need you, Sage. Stop talking.”

I sink into her in one slow stroke, and her walls squeeze around me. Ashán’s shadows coil around her thighs, tilting her hips. More of my vines slither to cradle the underside of her belly, rocking gently with every thrust. He slides his hand up her chest to cup a leaking breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. I pull back slowly until only the tip remains, then thrust forward. Ashán groans through the bond every time she whimpers. Lavásia floods the air and settles over Eden’s flushed skin.

“Taking me so well,” I pant, hips snapping faster. “Our perfect little human⁠—”

Why does she feel like that? Ash interrupts.

“Sage.” Her voice cracks. “Something’s wrong. I don’t⁠—”

“What is it?” I go still, spreading both palms flat over her back. Rubbing slow, grounding circles over her spine. “Talk to me, Saevúra. What do you need?”

“I don’t know.” There’s a hint of panic in her voice. “It’s not you. You feel good… so good… but I can’t—I can’t settle. Something’s missing, and I don’t know what it is. I can’t reach it⁠—”

Sage. Ashán chokes out. She’s panicking. Why is she panicking?

I don’t know. And the not-knowing is its own kind of terror—because she’s in labor, and she’s scared.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” I soothe my hands down her sides, pressing soft kisses between her shoulder blades. “Nothing’s wrong with you, ílyen. You’re perfect. You’re doing so good. We’ve got you⁠—”

“Then why isn’t it helping?” she sobs.

Something inside of me reflexively reaches for Ash.

Maybe, I rasp, it’s not me she needs.

She lets out another sob.

Switch with me. Let her feel you instead.

Okay, Ashán breathes. Give her to me.

I ease out of her.

Ashán rubs his cock over her clit, again and again until Eden is arching her back, begging for him to move inside.

“Oh—” her head drops to the nest. “Ash⁠—”

“There’s my angel,” he groans, his swollen tip slips inside her. He sets a deep, grinding rhythm, one clawed hand wrapped around her hip, the other sliding up to fist in her hair. “I’ve got you, ash’kaela. Let me take care of you. Tell me what you need, and it’s yours.”

Eden grabs fistfuls of the nesting fabric.

“Harder, Rahnové,” she whines.

He quickens his thrusts.

“You’re gripping me so tight,” he snarls. “Is this what you needed, little mate? My cock filling you while you labor?”