Pleasure jolted through her, sharp and shuddering. Her spine arched and a strangled gasp tore from her throat. The magic running under her skin flared bright and wild, sparks racing along her nerves until she trembled.
A low murmur rose from the god, resonant and deep, vibrating through her bones. “The water of life,” Mycor rasped, his words coherent for the first time. “You nourish me.”
Goldie whimpered, hips twitching helplessly against his massive hand, slick heat spreading under his careful strokes. Splice’s grip tightened at her waist, steadying her, grounding her even as the god’s fingers explored further, slow and sure, the rhythm building with every breath.
“You’re radiant like this,” Splice murmured, voice rough with awe. “Beautiful. Shining.”
Her breath caught, sharp and uneven, as Mycor’s finger pressed into her soaked center. A startled cry broke from her throat, hips jerking forward even as she arched back into Splice’s chest.
The god moved slowly, his finger curling deep inside her with deliberate grace. Goldie’s vision flared white when he brushed that hidden place within her, pleasure detonating through her core. She gasped, ragged and raw, her walls fluttering tight around him, clenching greedily with each motion.
Her thighs trembled, barely able to hold her as Mycor’s thumb slid under her fingers to claim her clit and begin circling. His touch dragged broken whimpers from her lips, her hips twitching helplessly into his hand.
“Do you like this, Goldie?” Splice whispered into her ear. “His touch, deep inside you, opening you?”
She whimpered, nodding. “Yes. Gods, yes—please.”
Splice’s fingers grazed her breast, pinching her nipple with deliberate care. “Then tell him. Let him feel how much you want this.”
Her moan cracked into words, spilling hot and frantic. “More—more. Don’t stop, don’t?—”
Her hips rolled against the Thornfather’s hand, chasing each deliberate curl of his finger, grinding down against his thumb.
She looked down, and saw Mycor’s eyes halfway open. His gaze burned into hers, a god’s hunger lit with tenderness. “You blossom,” he intoned.
The god’s curled inside her with unerring precision until she was writhing. Then, another thick digit joined the first, stretching her wider, fuller, until her body clenched tight in greedy surrender.
Splice’s hand slid lower, covering hers and the Thornfather’s massive thumb, and beginning to roll over her clit in tandem with the god’s touch. Goldie’s head fell back against Splice’s shoulder, panting, helpless. Her thighs shook violently, slick arousal dripping down her skin.
She was so close—every nerve strung taut, every tremor pulling her higher—but something in her held tight, a final thread of resistance coiled at the core of her.
Splice’s voice was a guttural growl. “Let go, Goldie. Let him feel all of you.”
Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. She arched with a strangled cry, back bowing, the orgasm ripping through her like the earth itself cracking open. Pleasure detonated deep in her core and flooded outward, raw and endless, so powerful it felt like worship and ruin all at once.
Her walls spasmed around the god’s fingers, milking him, clutching tight as if she could hold on forever. Heat poured through her, and with it, a wild, golden essence. It stretched from her into Mycor, his bark glowing faintly as his body drank. Another current leapt into Splice where his body pressed against hers, the vines along his arms shivering to life, their tips blooming in half-open flowers.
Goldie broke, gushing wetness over the Thornfather’s hand. She gasped, shattered and radiant, clinging to consciousness by a thread.
Splice groaned into her neck. “You’re extraordinary,” he breathed, feral and reverent at once. “Look what you’re giving us.”
The Thornfather’s rumble followed, low and resonant, vibrating through her bones. With a sound like roots ripping free of stone, he began to rise. Slowly, laboriously, his massive body unfurled from where it sprawled. Each movement was a ragged,burning effort, but beneath the sickness there was something fierce, alive.
Bark creaked, vines strained, and still he lifted, bracing himself on an elbow, then on one arm, until his vast torso loomed upright before her.
“Golden one,” the Thornfather rumbled, his voice the strongest she had ever heard it. “I feel you in every pulse, in every breath.”
Goldie’s thighs trembled, still shaking from the force of her release but already slick again with need. Splice’s fingers didn’t stop, circling her clit with slow, sinful pressure that kept her caught in the shimmer between afterglow and rising hunger.
Goldie’s breath caught, chest heaving, as the god’s heavy gaze found hers. It was like drowning in a storm, like being dragged under into depths that had no end. His large hand rose and cupped beneath her jaw, drawing her eyes up to meet his.
“I wish to sow you.”
Goldie’s breath hitched. Her gaze dropped, and desire struck like lightning. His cock had risen, massive and unmistakably ready. Glowing vines coiled along the thick length like worshipful adornment, pulsing with ancient light. Her mouth went dry. And wet. And dry again.
Lust flooded Goldie’s veins, hot and greedy. She quivered, every nerve alight, but a flicker of hesitation broke through the haze. She turned her head, whispering against the press of Splice’s lips at her ear. “Splice?”
He kept stroking her, fingers circling her clit with maddening patience. But at her tone he stilled, just for a beat.
