Page 295 of May: Bloom & Bane

He leans over her, his long tongue dragging up her spine.

She tries, gods, she tries. Pushing back into him, chasing the new fullness, her body lighting up all over again—but it doesn’t land.

“It’s still—” She’s fully sobbing now, frustrated and overwhelmed. “Ash, it’s still not… I’m sorry. I don’t⁠—”

“Hey.” Ashán stops thrusting, curling forward and engulfing her small body. “No. Don’t you dare apologize. Not for this.” But I can feel the fear creeping its way up the bond. The same fear clawing at me. He tried, I tried. We’ve given her both of us, and it’s still not enough.

Sage. His voice is frantic. What do we do? Nothing’s working. She’s scared⁠—

She’s had both of us, I murmur.

But not at the same time, he finishes.

Maybe our kind was meant to do this together. Both halves. Maybe it’s the only way to make her whole enough to bring our daughter into the world.

… Then let’s give our girl what she needs, Ashán says.

He slips free of her. She lets out a needy little sound that has both our cocks twitching.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she pleads. “I need you.”

“I know, mí’maru. I know.” He gathers her from the cradle of vines, careful of her belly. He turns her in our arms until she’s facing us. “We’re not leaving you. We’re giving you more.”

I brush the tears from her flushed cheeks. “Can you trust us to take care of you?”

She nods. “Always.”

We guide her down, her thighs spreading over our lap.

“Down you go, ílyen,” I rasp. “Take both of your mates. Let us make you whole.” A fresh weave of vine and shadow cradles her belly between us.

Her fingers dig into our shoulders as she sinks down inch by inch. Her walls clench hard around the dual invasion.

“Too big—” She gasps, her head falls against my chest.

“You’re doing so good, Saevúra,” I groan against her ear. “Breathe through it, sweet girl. Don’t fight the stretch.”

She is so vreshing tight, Ashán rasps.

“Can you take a little more, ílyen?”

She lets out a broken whimper, her small hands gripping the back of our neck.

“Do you want to stop?” he rasps. His hand moves around to massage her lower back. “If it hurts—if the baby is too heavy—we’ll pull out. Tell me, ash’kaela.”

“No!” Eden gasps, tightening her grip on our neck, her head shaking frantically against our chest. “Please don’t pull out. I need the rest of you.”

I choke back a growl.

“Halfway there, ílyara,” I rumble. Thick, velvety vines pool beneath her knees, taking the strain off her legs.

“Do you need help?” Ash rasps against her hair.

She nods, her eyes unfocused and dark with desperation as she stalls on our lengths.

My fingers brush over her swollen clit, and her whole body bucks in our arms.

“Is this what you need?” I murmur, circling the slick little bundle of nerves.