A Botanical Study In Symmetry #3
Sage tugs roughly on the buds at her nipples.
Her back arches with a cry that fills the greenhouse. Her thighs clamp around my wrist as a sudden release of clear liquid sprays out around the bloom, soaking my hand in hot spurts. Eden’s thighs shake uncontrollably, her lavína pulsing and gushing again with each stroke of the lily.
Grab the other one, I gasp. Now.
His hand darts out and grabs the rabbit bloom from the case. Deep violet, with long petals splayed back like ears, a pale ridged stalk curving up from its center. Raised swirls spiral along the entire length.
I pull the lily free and she whimpers, hips chasing its return. I notch the thick, ridged stalk against her swollen, fluttering entrance. “This is the one you were begging for.”
I press it into her in one slow push, the thick shaft stretching her open.
“Ohh. There. Right there.” She moans, her nails dragging down our shoulders.
She’s barely seated on it before the bloom comes alive, the raised swirls rotating inside her, working in torturous circles while the violet petals splay against her overstimulated clit and start to thrum.
“Oh shit—oh shit—oh shit. It’s too much.”
“You just squirted all over your mates, and you’re going to do it again.”
I hold the rabbit deep, letting the swirls work inside her, the petals fluttering while the buds suck viciously on her nipples. My wrist twists, driving the stalk deeper into Eden’s soaked lavína. The thick length sinks in hard, the raised swirls massaging her inner walls with each forceful thrust.
“Rahnové—Vaelí—I can’t. It’s happening again. I can’t stop it.”
“I know, mí’maru. Let it.” I work the rabbit into her harder, swirls churning, petals thrumming. Sage tugs the rose buds harder on her nipples. “You don’t get to be shy about it anymore. We’re already covered in you, Eden.”
She clamps down on the bloom. Her walls spasm as I thrust faster, forcing wet squelches with every slam.
The petals thrum mercilessly on her swollen clit.
She gushes around the stalk, spraying warm fluid across my hand, and splattering our lap.
It soaks straight into the vines holding her open, drawn through his green skin in one greedy pull.
The fluid slams into Sage like fire, flooding his system all at once.
The vines around Eden’s thighs flare darkly, squeezing her flesh harder.
Fresh blooms burst open across our collarbones.
Shá, Sage slurs. Oh, that’s. Eden, that’s—
Eloquent, I murmur.
That’s never—she’s never soaked my vines like that before. I didn’t know it could—
Feel like that? I drag the rabbit slowly through her aftershocks.
The second she slumps against us, I lose all interest in the flowers. I rip the rabbit free of her and toss it somewhere across the greenhouse. It clinks against one of the planters. Sage’s half is already moving, both our hands coming to cup the rose-buds still sucking ravenously on her breasts.
Together? He asks.
Together.
We pull them off at the same time, and they release her swollen nipples with two wet pops, the buds overflowing with the níva they’ve been coaxing out of her this whole time.
We bring the buds to our mouths and drink.
Thick streams of nectar continue to stream down her breasts, running in heavy rivulets over the curve of her belly.
“Vresh, look at that,” I growl, leaning in and sealing our mouth over one of her dripping nipples, drawing her níva straight down our throat.
Aevún, Sage groans. She tastes so good.
He takes over, sucking harder, our tongue lashing over her peaked flesh. His vines tighten around her thighs and waist, yanking her limp body flush against our chest.
My cock has been throbbing since she first squirmed into my lap with nothing under that dress. Now it’s rock-hard and trapped, the thick length pinned between our stomach and her swollen belly. I hook an arm under her thigh and move her enough that I can slide through her soaked pélas.
“Ashán—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur.
Sage’s vines react, a thick tendril coiling around the base of my cock.
It squeezes once, then guides the head to settle perfectly against her lavína.
I drag her down onto me in one claiming stroke.
Eden’s body responds even in its exhausted state.
Fresh slick gushes around my cock, coating my shaft.
My hand slides between her legs, fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing hard circles while I thrust into her.
She’s so wet—from the flowers, from the squirting—that I slide in like I belong there. My cock throbs inside her, catching against the little swollen spot with every thrust.
The feral rush from her nectar builds higher and higher. The greenhouse fills with the wet sound of sucking and the slick slide of my cock slipping in and out of her.
“Look at you,” I growl against her throat, hips snapping, every thrust driving deep enough to make her whimper. “Already full of us, round with what we put in you, and still taking my cock like you need more.”
“Ash—”
“You do, don’t you?” My hand fists in her hair, tilting her face to mine so I can watch her fall apart.
Sage’s hand splays possessively over the swell of her belly.
“You were made to carry us. Look how good you grow what we give you, ash’kaela,” I pull her down to meet every thrust. “Already bred by two monsters and we still can’t stop filling you. ”
Ashán, Sage groans. You can’t say things like that. I’m going to come.
“You feel that?” I press my palm over her belly. “That’s ním. You’re ním. Every part of you—this body, this pussy—every bit of you is ním.”
She comes all over my cock, clamping down so hard she drags me over the edge with her. I bury myself and spill into her.
“Take it all, Eden,” I snarl against her neck, thick ropes of come flooding her already-full lavína. Every spurt forces more of her slick out around our shaft, the overflow running down our thighs.
Nobody moves for a minute. Eden is draped over our chest. I’m still pulsing inside her, and Sage is panting as if he did the whole thing himself.
I can feel him stirring, the beginning of the shift taking over. My cock recedes, the cool bone of me drawing back as the green warmth of him rises to take its place.
My turn, Sage says, his vines flexing around her. Move over, Ash. I’m not finished with our girl.
He gathers her close, cradling the back of her head, and pressing his mouth to her temple.