89. Dragons Do This
dragons do this
—SAGE & ASHáN
Four days later—
I have spent three lifetimes learning the shape of desire. Or at least I thought I had.
I thought I’d felt desire in every form it came in. And then Eden got round with our daughter, and I realized I’d known nothing.
She’s curled into the heart of the nest right now. For the past month, Ashán and I have worn every piece of clothing before giving it to her, making sure the den smells of nothing but us.
It is entirely neeth. She is entirely neeth.
My vines creep up through the bedding while Ashán’s cool shadows gather beneath them, forming a living cradle that gently lifts the weight of her belly, taking the pressure off her aching hips.
She’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her, Ashán murmurs.
She is, I agree. She has been restless all day, readjusting the nest for what has to be the hundredth time.
“Saevúra.” I slide closer, my hand settling on the small of her back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She breathes out slowly. “It’s… nothing. Just twingy. I’ve had little cramps all afternoon. They come and go—” She winces, and her whole body curls inward. “Okay. That one was a little more than twingy.”
Ashán’s shadows flare, spiking with alarm before he forces them smooth again.
Sage! he shouts. The baby! It’s happening. My daughter is coming.
Our daughter, I correct. Calm down before she feels all your… feelings.
“Eden,” I murmur, resting my hand over her belly. “Sweetheart. I think she’s coming.”
The flash of fear that crosses her face undoes me completely.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, pressing my mouth to her temple. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. We’ve got you. You’re not doing a single second of this alone.”
She nods against my chest, her breathing still uneven as she clings to me. Another cramp rolls through her. This time she doesn’t try to hide it.
… I could take her mind off it, he offers.
Ash. Seriously. Right now?
What? She’s anxious and tense. That’s bad for her and the baby. Everyone knows you want a laboring woman relaxed. He’s already prowling up against the inside of our skin. And I happen to be very, very good at relaxing her.
“What’s he saying?” She mumbles against my chest.
“He has… a suggestion.”
“What kind of suggestion?”
Tell her, Ashán purrs. Dragons do this all the time. Or so I’ve heard. It helps with dilation and pain.
You have never had an issue telling her whatever it is you’ve wanted to say before, so why don’t you tell her yourself?
He’s goading me.
“Ashán thinks,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, “that the best thing we could do to ease your pain is to put our mouth between your legs and keep it there until you come so hard your whole body loosens, and the tension drains right out of you.”
Eden’s breath catches. Her fingers tighten around my forearm.
“Sage, I’m in l-labor,” she stutters.
“I know.” I drag my nose along her jaw, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin, mixed with the intoxicating scent of new life beginning to bloom. “Early labor, ílyara. Hours of it, most likely. Your little body working itself open so slowly.”
Ash’s large hand spreads wide over the underside of her belly.
“There’s nothing for you to do yet but feel. And I would very much like to spend those hours making sure the only thing you feel is good.”
Tell her the rest, Ashán purrs, his shadows thickening over the nest. Tell her what it does.
“It’ll help,” I murmur, my fingers tracing slowly up the inside of her thigh, making her legs part ever so slightly. “Pleasure will flood your body with everything it needs right now. The magic will soften the transition.”
I press a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Softening you…”
I press a kiss to the other corner, capturing the tiny, helpless sigh that escapes her lips.
“Opening you…”
I kiss the tip of her nose, my eyes locked onto hers.
“Drowning the pain before it ever has the chance to dig in.”
Her chest heaves against mine.
“We were made to give you this, Saevúra,” I hum. “Both of us. It’s written into the very roots of what we are.”
“Dragons do this!” Ashán cuts in, his skelva smoothing the cloud-silk away from her hips. “When their mates are tight or hurting, they lick and suck until everything opens up. It’s very respectable, truthfully.”
She trembles as another cramp rolls through her. Lust and nerves war across her freckled face until lust wins—the way it was always going to.
Ashán’s claws glide lower, pulling the hem of her dress over her swollen belly, exposing her dripping lavína.
Two fingers slide through her slick, parting her gently.
She is a vision—copper curls fanned wild across the nest, green eyes gone heavy-lidded, cinnamon freckles scattered down the flush spreading over her chest. Her breasts rest full and heavy against the upper curve of her belly, and that belly—gods—there’s something primally satisfying about knowing we’re the reason it’s round and tight.
Her soft thighs tremble in our grip, slick already painting the inside of them, her center swollen and rosy, her kísh peeking shyly from its hood. Every inch of her ripened, lush, neeth.
“We’d make you feel so good,” I murmur, nipping lightly at her earlobe. “We could take turns. Me first, licking slow circles around your clit, sucking until you’ve covered our face in your valúsha. Then Ashán could take over, filling you with his long, thick tongue.”
Ashán growls, and his fangs extend. He teases them over the column of her throat, my fingers still stroking her inner thigh.
“That’s the suggestion, ílyara. Us eating you until the pain lets go and all that’s left is heat, wetness and the sound of you moaning our names.”
“... Okay,” she whispers.
Ním, Ashán snarls, surging up so fast and eager that Eden almost tips over. He slides down the length of her, his tongue dragging over the soft, swollen skin of her belly. Our claws hook underneath her thighs, spreading her wide.
“Hi ash’kaela,” he purrs up at her, our mouth curving into a wicked grin. “Miss me?”
“I can’t even see you over my belly,” she giggles.
“Good thing I don’t need you to see me, then,” Ashán hums. “But I can see you, angel. So full of us you can’t even watch what I’m about to do to you.
” He drags his tongue up the inside of her thigh.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Swollen with my baby, already so wet you’re soaking the nest,” he groans.
“Our baby,” I snap.
He dives in. His thick tongue drags over the center of her in one filthy lick.
“Oh—” Her thighs jerk in our hands. Our claws carefully hold her open. “Rahnové—”
He licks her again, flattening the rough surface of his tongue so it drags across every slick inch. He circles her kísh until she’s whimpering, grinding desperately against our face.
Her head rolls back against the pillows, as he seals our mouth over her clit and sucks hard, our cheeks hollowing. Her hips buck. He pins them down with his hand splayed wide over the swell of her.
“Vresh,” he groans against her, his voice muffled against her slick, “you taste so vyn good, Eden.”
“Ash—” Her face twists with pleasure.
“I want to keep you round and bred, ash’kaela,” he moans. “Isn’t that what you want? To keep those pretty pink nipples, puffy and leaking for us.”
Ash, I warn. Don’t push her over too fast.
She likes it, he shoots back. Our innocent little empath has a breeding kink.
He spreads her wider with our thumbs, her slick glistening in the firelight. He drags the tip of our tongue around her entrance before pushing inside.
She keens.
“That’s it,” he rumbles, fucking her slow on our tongue, his nose rubbing against her kísh with every thrust. “Open up for me. This perfect little body knows exactly what it’s for.”
His grip flexes possessively on her hip. Another contraction hits, and her belly tightens under his palm.
“Eden. Sweetheart,” he murmurs, attempting to distract her. “The faster you get this baby out, the quicker we can put another one in you.”
Lavásia blooms in the air. Every filthy word out of Ash’s mouth feeds it, so does the sight of her, swollen and dripping as we hold her down.
She breathes in a lungful of my pollen, and the loop snaps shut. Her arousal flares through the bond, spiking sharply, and that spike rolls straight back into us, winding Ashán tighter.
“I’m going to breed you again the second you’re ready,” he growls against her skin. “I’m going to watch your belly grow even bigger next time. Keep you pregnant and leaking for us.”
His tongue thrusts inside her, curling and lapping at every ounce of her valúsha. Her back arches off the nest, hands reaching blindly for our hair. Sensing her silent plea, a tendril of shadow surges forward, slipping between each of her fingers and lacing tight so she has something to hold onto.
Every fresh gush of slick soaks the cloud-silk.
Eden’s thighs tremble in our grip. “Need more, Ash. Please.”
He keeps our tongue buried deep for a moment longer, then drags it out in one obscene slide that leaves her clenching around nothing.
He seals our mouth over her swollen clit and sucks in long, steady pulls.
Two thick fingers sink inside her dripping lavína with no resistance.
He curls them hard against her g-spot. Her walls flutter and squeeze.
“Ohh,” he purrs against her, the vibration making her kísh throb between our lips. “Someone is ready today.” His fingers scissor wide, stretching her open while he sucks harder on her clit. Eden’s thighs shake helplessly in our grip.
“I think you can take three. What do you think, Sage?”
“At least three,” I groan, watching her swallow his fingers greedily. “I want to watch her stretch around us.”
Ashán pushes a third finger in beside the first two. She sobs, her hips rocking down to take them deeper. He thrusts them steadily through her next contraction.
“Ohh, don’t stop,” Eden whimpers. “That feels sooo good.”
His knuckles slap wetly against her entrance while his tongue laps ravenously over her clit.