You have fangs #3
“Mmm. You’re trying to milk us already,” he chuckles, his fingers still circling her swollen clit. “Is that what you want, ash’kaela?”
Ashán! I growl.
You’re halfway in now, and her slick is running down our thighs, he counters in our head. She loves it.
“Ashán?” Eden tilts her head.
“Not exactly, ash’kaela,” he purrs back, using my voice. But as close as I can be for now.”
Her hand comes up, dripping from the bathwater, and she presses her palm to the left side of my face.
“Then be as close as you can,” she whispers.
Something in my chest splits open. It is not my chest. It is not my something.
Vresh, Ashán breathes. She is touching me.
I know.
Under my ribs, something aches so hard it takes away my breath. I have never once thought to ask how long it had been since anyone touched his face. I don’t think anyone ever has.
I press forward into my mate with the weight of it.
She takes another inch on a broken cry.
“That’s it.” His voice and mine, tangled now. “Look at you, ílyen. Look at how good you’re being for us.”
“More.” Her nails rake down my back. “Please, more—”
“You have it. You have all of it.” I brace on one forearm, my other hand sliding beneath the small of her back, tilting her. “Breathe out for me, Saevúra.”
She breathes out.
And I slide the rest of the way inside her.
She arches, her heels trying desperately to pull me closer.
I am inside my mate. I am seated completely inside the woman I have loved since before she opened her eyes.
WE are inside OUR mate, Ashán corrects.
I move slowly, giving her deep, rolling strokes that make the vines creak around her hips. Her legs lock around me as far as they can reach.
“Sage, I can’t touch you—”
My rhythm stutters. A single claw tears through the green coils that have bound her from her waist to mid-thigh. They snap and fall away into the water.
I wrap one hand beneath her thigh and the other around her lower back, lifting her clean off the porcelain. The shift in angle forces her even deeper onto my length.
“Three steps,” I promise, hoarsely. “Hold on to me.”
I carry her out of the tub. Every stride jostles her weight down onto my cock, pulling a string of helpless little sounds from her throat. By the time I get to my knees, she is sobbing my name. My wing sweeps beneath her back before she touches the ground.
Soft, warm grass rises around her, curling up around her arms to hold her too. Her copper hair is spread out over the green like a river of liquid fire.
“There,” I breathe, lowering my body over hers. “Now you can touch me.”
She pulls me down until my chest meets hers. “Move… please.”
I try, but the angle fights me. She is so much smaller than I am; her thighs are stretched wide around my hips and still not wide enough. Every stroke I take is half of what I want to give her.
Let me.
His skeletal hand slides down her wet body. Cool bone over her ribs, her hip, the trembling muscle of her thigh. He wraps his long fingers around her knee and guides her leg up and out, spreading her open beneath us with a gentleness that surprises even me.
I test a thrust. The new angle lets me slide two inches deeper. Eden’s hands fly to my shoulders.
“Oh, that’s—”
“Better,” Ashán says through my mouth. “Now we can reach all of you.”
I sink all the way into her and stay there for one shaking heartbeat. I glance down at her face, watching for any sign of discomfort. She takes all of it, her chin tilted to the sky, mouth parted in a soundless cry.
“Sage—” Her voice cracks on my name.
I answer with my lips on her throat, tasting the rapid pulse hammering against her skin. My other wing folds around us, shutting out the rest of the world until there is nothing but the heat of her body and the slick sound of my vék sliding deep inside her.
Her fingers trace the ridges of muscle along my spine, skimming over the sensitive membranes at the base of my wings. Every touch makes me shudder. The petals of my bloom collar vibrate with every downstroke, fluttering over her swollen clit.
“Do you feel that?” Ashán groans. “This is what a Solvernah feels like when he finally gets his hands on the thing he was made to worship.”
“Ashán… Sage,” she moans, her fingers tangling deep in my hair as her hips lift to meet my thrusts.
“Such a velkíra for us,” Ashán purrs. “Such a sweet, brave, filthy little thing, letting the dark hold you open while the light takes you apart.”
No wonder mortals kill each other over this, he growls inside my skull.
My free hand slides up her soft belly, my palm cupping the swell of her breast.
“Yes,” she whimpers.
My thumb brushes over her peaked nipple, kneading gently as the heavy weight fills my hand, her flesh yielding and bouncing with each roll of my hips.
“You are perfect,” I breathe, lowering my face to press my mouth to her other breast. My tongue traces slow circles around her nipple before I draw it deep between my lips.