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I wanted to climb over the railing and bury my face in her taste, but what was happening now was the next best thing—I felt the finial press in in my stead.
It pushed her walls open, starting to rub inside, and reported everything back to me.
Her heat, her tension, her lubrication’s viscosity, every fingersbreadth of space it gained—while all the while other pieces of me were still twining with her, tasting her, feeling her struggle and then give. The weight of a thigh, the curve of her belly, the softness of her hair—vines sprouted vines sprouted more, until it was like I was subsuming her inside me.
I wrapped a breast and caressed it at the same time as I wound a delicately boned arm and vines made of my magic cupped her ass. I lifted her up, holding her legs wide, keeping her beautifully spread, and the part of me that fucked her with my magic was better than even my root could’ve been.
My root couldn’t feel the subtle ridges of her walls as it compressed them like this new one that was a part of me—and then ridge itself to fit her. It couldn’t taste her with each of its strokes as like my vine could.
And while I had worked some magic with my root inside her the barn, that had been mostly unconscious, unknowing, but here and now—I leaned over the railing and whispered, “Ready yourself for me.”
Shayla writhed in response, throwing an arm across her mouth to bite against my vines, as I started leaking eager green sap inside her.
I was watching her, feeling her, tasting her—and I felt myself unfurling.
I had seen all sorts of plants propagate before—spitting seeds and alluring insects—and now I knew how I would do it, too.
The finial inside her bulged, swelling, stretching, ripening, fit to burst, and I heard her give a breathy moan as she fought against me—not to get free, but losing herself entirely. I turned it lightly, spinning its blunt tip, working it this way and that, dancing it inside her, while filled her up with girthy strokes and she started kicking against me.
I wrapped her tighter still, as she gave herself over bit by bit, her hips and head flailing in her bed until I’d lifted her up entirely, cradling her just for me, using her for pleasure. One of her hands clawed around a vine, while the other’d managed to reach down and hold the part of me that was throbbing into her, stroking my length with her palm, and everything in me wanted to blow—all I needed first was her going.
I felt her twist, I felt her squeeze, I felt her heat rise, and her juices release, all of her shifting to the brink and then she relaxed with a quiet whine—the only place of her that had strength left was her perfect hot cunt as it trapped me—
But I didn’t mind.
Mage or man—I belonged inside her.
The tip of my vine finally bloomed, blunt petals from the finial tugging against her walls, keeping her open as her sweet cunt fought to close, and I shot my load.
She whispered my name, thrashing, and wrapped in me like she was it was like I was holding her in the palm of my hand. “Val—Val—Val—” she hissed, naming each wave to me, as I bathed her in my green.
And for a long moment, we were a creature in perfect synchrony, me giving and her taking, as I surged and she surged back. I may not have gotten the future I wanted, but the future I had, I’d earned, and I knew I would stay there, with her, inside her or at her side, now and forever, for as long as I was capable of making her feel loved and good.
Then her body collapsed and my magic stuttered and I knew that for tonight at least, we were out of time.
I glided her back to her bed and released her with great reluctance, slowly undoing all the things my magic had done, retracting myself from her, turning her bedposts into mere wood again, even if one of them glistened.
“Val,” she whispered, when I had contained myself again, back into my mannish form. I ripped my hands away from her bed, and my feet up from her floor, disconnecting myself from the natural world, but every moment of the pain was manageable because it was entirely worthwhile.
“I love you,” I whispered, because I hadn’t been able to say it since our time in the forest. “You, and Frenel.”
She gave me a dreamy smile by the moonlight. “I love you, too. And so does Frenel, if he knows what’s good for him.” I bit back a laugh, as she rose up on her elbows. “Val, what would’ve happened to us if you had died?”
I knew she meant when she and Frenel were trapped inside the tree trunk. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I can’t claim to have thought that far.”
It didn’t seem to faze her. “You’re still new at this. I know you’ll get better.”
“Better than this?” I whispered, gesturing to her bed. My sap was dark on her skin by the moonlight, and I could see light marks on her where some of my vines had rubbed.
“I’m certain,” she teased, lying back down and snuggling into her bedding.
I strode up to the head of her bed and leaned over, daring to trace the backs of my knuckles against her cheek. “How did you know it was true?” I asked her, as she caught my hand there with her own.
“What?”
“My...greatness?” I felt silly claiming it, although after what I’d just accomplished, it could hardly be denied.
I both felt and heard her laugh quietly, her eyes finding mine. “You look like this now, you ride me like you do, and yet there is still some part of you that is still a silly boy.”
