“Are youreallyokay with this?” she asked, breathless, trembling.
“Yes.” His voice was low, steady, and scorching against her skin. “Take him. Take my god between your thighs.” Hesqueezed her breast hard enough to draw a gasp. Then softer, more fragile, “But I’m here, Goldie. I’m here with you.”
A shiver tore through her, wild and overwhelming. “Yeah,” she breathed, her voice thick and sultry with want.
The Thornfather’s rumble deepened, reverent and commanding all at once. Bracing on one vast arm, he shifted with the creak of wood and strain of vines, then lowered himself carefully back to the floor. The massive body sprawled out, chest rising and falling with ragged breath, his cock standing proud, crowned with writhing vines of light.
One hand extended toward her, palm open in invitation. “Lay yourself upon me, beautiful one,” he intoned, voice echoing through stone and soil. “Make me whole.”
Goldie whimpered as Splice’s hands slipped from her body, the loss like a snapped cord. But then his lips brushed her neck in a kiss so tender it unraveled her again.I’m here,it said.I’m not letting you go.
She drew a breath that trembled on the edge of a moan and reached for Mycor’s outstretched hand, her fingers sliding into his with reverence.
Slowly, she shifted forward. Magic and hunger pressed in from every angle, filling her veins like wildfire and honey. She moved with care, knees sinking to the moss on either side of the god’s massive hips.
The angle was wide—too wide—and her thighs burned with the stretch, but she adjusted, leaning forward slightly, steadying herself with both hands on his bark-covered chest. Her whole body trembled, flushed and open, as she hovered over him.
Splice followed, silent and steady, his heat at her back again. He kissed the base of her neck, lips soft and sure, a breath of grounding in the storm.
Hot and awkward,she thought wildly, her lips twitching even as her thighs quivered.Gods help me, I am literally straddling a god.
She reached down and wrapped one hand around the Thornfather’s cock. He groaned, a guttural sound that vibrated through her core. At once, vines stirred from his body and coiled around her fingers, writhing with a pulsing rhythm that made her gasp.
“Oh… damn,” she breathed, her hips twitching helplessly. “That’s gonna feel incredible.”
She glanced back, breathless. “Can you do that, too?”
Splice let out a gasping laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I can’t help it,” she whispered, stroking again, her fist sliding slowly over Mycor’s thick length. He was hot, pulsing, slick with glowing sap that clung to her skin like liquid starlight. The weight of him in her palm was obscene and beautiful, a thing carved from power and worship.
Her lips parted on a moan. “You both have…” she trailed off, voice cracking, “…really excellent design features.”
A strangled sound came from behind her. Goldie’s head whipped to the side, looking at Splice out of the corner of her eye, even as she stroked Mycor once, drawing a deep, guttural sound from the god’s chest. “Are you… laughing?” she hissed.
“No,” he said too quickly. “No.” But his lips betrayed him, curling into a crooked smile.
“You’resmiling,” she accused, scandalized.
“It’s only that, if that was dirty talk, it was… unique.”
“Well, excuse me,plant boy,” Goldie snapped, even as her cheeks flushed hot. “It’s very hard to concentrate on forming words when—ngh?—”
Her retort broke off in a gasp as a vine slithered from Splice’s wrist and snaked to her clit, flicking it with ruthless precision.Her toes curled against the ground, back arching violently into his touch.
“In that case,” he murmured, low and smug against her ear. “Stop talking. And just feel.”
Goldie’s laugh caught halfway, dissolving into a shaky breath. Her thighs trembled as she shifted forward, hovering above the thick, glistening crown of the god’s cock. Even after everything, after vines and visions and impossible pleasures, this made her falter.
She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “Okay.”
Mycor’s eyes, glowing and infinite, opened fully and locked on hers. His massive hands rose, curling around her hips with aching tenderness.
“Be my vessel,” he rumbled, voice like thunder over water. “Let me root in you.”
The words reverberated through her bones.
She shifted again, breath stuttering, and angled herself carefully. The thick crown of him pressed against her slick entrance, and even that small contact made her gasp.
