38. Bloodlust
bloodlust
—EDEN
Ican’t breathe. And I can’t stop coming.
Sage’s lavásia shimmers between us.
“Eden, breathe,” he rasps, his hands sliding over my hips in firm circles. “I’ve got you. Just breathe through it.”
Breathe?
I can barely think.
My body is searching, craving something I don’t even understand. This isn’t enough, and yet, I’m not sure how we can physically do any more than we’re already doing.
He rolls his hips, and I cry out.
“There,” he murmurs against my hair, both souls speaking at once. “Does that help, ílyen?”
“Yes,” I gasp, already moving with him. “Don’t stop, please don’t—”
The next orgasm slams into me without warning, and tears fill my eyes, because it brings me no relief.
“Sage. Ash. I need more.”
They tense beneath me.
“We’re locked, Saevúra,” Sage whispers. “We can’t move much without—”
“We’re going to take care of you, ash’kaela.” Ashán cuts in.
One of his hands slides between us, and I sob when his fingers test where the petals have trapped us together. He moves up to my clit, circling slowly. My entire body arches into his touch.
“Like this,” he murmurs. “We don’t have to move much to get you through this. Do we, sweetheart?”
Another wave of lavásia washes over me, and heat ignites all over again.
“How long?” I gasp. “How long is this going to last?”
They both go quiet.
“Sage? Ashán?”
“We don’t know,” he admits. “I’m so sorry, Eden. I didn’t know this would happen.”
“Is this going to keep happening? Your lavásia?”
“It responds directly to your arousal,” he mumbles nervously.
“So… that’s a yes,” Ashán says, unhelpfully.
I’m stuck on them, and every time Sage senses that I’m aroused… he produces more pollen… which in turn makes me more aroused. We’re going to be here the rest of our lives.
“Eden,” Sage’s hand cups my face. “We’re going to figure this out.”
“How? If it keeps feeding off my arousal, and your pollen makes me more aroused, then—”
“Then we help you through it,” Ashán says. “Every wave. Every orgasm. Until your body can’t take any more and his kná releases.”
“That could take—”
“Hours,” Sage admits under his breath. “Maybe longer.”
Another puff of lavásia fills the air.
“No, no, no.” I gasp.
“Shh,” Sage murmurs, his thumb stroking my cheek as Ashán’s fingers keep circling over my swollen clit. “Just let it happen, Saevúra. Don’t fight it.”
“Your body has other ways to find pleasure, ash’kaela. Ways we haven’t tried yet.”
Their hands slide to my chest, thumbs brushing just beneath my breasts.
“Let us help you,” he murmurs. “In every way we can.”
A moan slips out.
Their thumbs drag slowly over my nipples. I flinch at how sensitive they are.
“Vresh.”
They dip their head, mouth closing over one swollen peak. The relief is immediate and overwhelming. I cry out, pushing more of my breast against their face. They pull back.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “Too rough?”
Their gaze falls to my breasts.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sage,” he groans. “Did you taste that?”
I glance down and see a small bead of liquid gathered at my nipple.
“Eden,” he rasps. “Do you know what that is?”
“No?”
His hand trembles as it cups my breast, thumb brushing the droplet.
“Your body is preparing,” he whispers. “For us. You’re—”
Their mouth closes back around my nipple, and God, the sounds they’re making aren’t helping the arousal situation.
“Vresh. You taste so sweet, Eden. Like warm honey and—” their breath shudders. They suck harder, coaxing more of the gold liquid from me.
“Sage?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Ash?”
He doesn’t answer either.
Clouds of lavásia float above us. Heat from Ash’s venom seeps inside of me.
Sage’s hand finds my neglected breast, thumb circling the nipple and pulling lightly until more liquid beads.
“More,” they rasp against my skin. “Give us more, Saevúra. Please. We need it.”
“I don’t even know how I made that.”
“Your body knows,” they groan, the petals inside of me swelling even larger. “It’s making this for our baby.”
I squeeze around them involuntarily, and their hips buck into me as much as the knot will allow.
“You’re sending him into a rut, Eden. He’s not going to be able to stop,” Ashán rasps.
“A rut?”
“Breeding instinct,” Ashán grits out. “Once it starts–vresh–we’re not getting out of this until he’s satisfied you’re carrying.”
Oh. Ohhh.
“How long does a rut last?” I whisper.
Ashán’s laugh rumbles through me. “Until his instincts are sated. You’re not getting free anytime soon, ash’kaela. Could be days.”
“Weeks,” Sage rasps against my breast, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “However long it takes.”
Their mouth finds mine.
“Don’t be afraid,” Sage murmurs. “I’m going to take care of you.” He thrusts. “Keep you full and aching while I drink every precious drop your body makes for me.”
His hips roll, and the petals vibrate inside me. “But I need you to understand something, Saevúra,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m not stopping until I know our vúsha is growing inside you.” (Baby)
His hand slides down, palm spreading wide over the slight swell of my lower belly. He presses down until the pressure inside me shift. His cock slides deeper with the motion.
“She understands,” Ashán purrs. “Don’t you, mí’maru?”
—SAGE
I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. The taste of her nectar lingers on my tongue, and every instinct I have is screaming to take more. To make sure her body knows exactly what I’m asking of it.
You need to calm down, Ashán rasps. You’re going to hurt her.
I would never—
You’re in a rut, he snaps. You don’t know what you’re doing right now.
But I do know.
I know her body is preparing for me. I know she’s fertile. I can smell it, taste it, feel it in the ways she clenches around me every time I move, milking every ounce from me that she can get.
“Sage,” Eden gasps.
“Just a little more, Saevúra,” I rasp. “Please. Your body is so perfect, making this for me.”
At least let me help you before you lose yourself completely, he murmurs.
What is your equivalent of this, Ashán? What happens when the reaper finds our mate fertile and ready?
He goes quiet.
Well?
Bloodlust, he says reluctantly.
What?
When I sense her vulnerability. It triggers something inside of me, he admits. The need to mark her and make sure everyone knows she’s ním, that my venom is flowing through her veins. The primal need to eliminate anything that might threaten her.
When you say bloodlust… I murmur, you don’t mean Eden’s blood, right?
The silence stretches too long.
Ashán?! I bark.
Yes, he finally admits. But not the way you’re thinking.
I wrap my arms protectively around Eden from… myself?
Then how?
I don’t want to hurt her, he says quietly. I would never hurt her. I want to taste her. Her humanity. Her mortality. Everything that makes her alive and fragile.
You want to bite our mate? I rasp.
I want to worship our mate, he corrects. The way you worship her fertility, I need to worship her life through her blood.
But not now, he adds, his voice strained. Right now, I’m holding back so you can have this moment with her.
Thank you. We will talk about this later.
Don’t thank me yet, he mutters darkly. Once you’re done, and that knot releases? She’s ním.
“Sage?” Eden’s voice pulls me back. I’ve gone completely still.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers. “You just… stopped.”
How do I explain that I’m protecting her from myself? That half of me wants to watch her bloom while the other half wants to sink its teeth into her throat.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just—”
Tell her, Ashán sighs. She deserves to know what’s coming. This isn’t over when your rut ends.
My thumbs stroke over her flushed cheeks.
“Eden, when my knot finally releases.” I swallow hard. “Ashán is going to need you too.”
Her brow furrows. “Need me how?”
“Differently than I do,” I admit. “He’ll want to… claim you in his own way.”
“Which is?”
I hesitate, searching for the right words.
Let me tell her.
“My rut isn’t like Sage’s,” Ashán says. “While he’s drawn to your fertility and the life you can create. I’m drawn to your mortality. Everything that makes you human and alive.”
His hand slides up to cup her throat, thumb brushing over her pulse. “I need to taste your entire life.”
“Will it hurt?” she whispers.
“No,” both of us answer at the same time. “I would sooner rip my fangs out than hurt a single hair on your head. It will be… intense.”
We rock into her gently.
“When I bite you, it will not be one-sided. My venya will flood through your veins. And after that moment, your blood will answer only to me.”
His focus fixates on her racing pulse.
“For others, my venom stills. But for you, my Saevúra, it ignites. The same way Sage’s pollen sends you spiraling into pleasure, my bite will make you crave the very poison that undoes you.”
She shivers against us.
“That—is how I claim my mate.”
“So I’ll…” she trails off breathlessly, as Ashán starts speeding up his strokes.
“You’ll come,” he confirms bluntly. “Hard. Repeatedly. While I drink from you and make sure every god, monster, and mortal knows you’re claimed by Death himself.”