My fingertips trailed up the tender softness of her inner thigh and skimmed her eager folds. She arched into my touch, her flesh speaking a language older than words. Through our bond, I felt her pleasure as if it were my own—doubled, reflected, amplified. I focused on that magical nub, the seat of her desire, not just with my fingers, but my magic.
“I can’t—” she panted, trembling beneath me. “It’s too much—”
I leaned closer, my lips brushing her neck. “You can. Your body knows what to do with this energy.” My hands continued their slow exploration, toying open her petals to expose her tender core. I yearned to bury myself there, but couldn’t. Not yet. “Let it sing through you.”
Her back bowed off the ground at my touch now as her breath came in short gasps. The moss beneath us began to crawlup her sides and embrace her like a living blanket, responding to the overflow of energy that radiated from her skin.
Her eyes, wild and hungry, locked onto mine—and her hazel irises flashed green. I felt the forest’s essence coursing through her, a torrent of life seeking direction, seeking release.
My need strained toward her, thick and hard, every sensation intensified by the earth’s energy. I no longer had to make my cock seem human, so it jutted from me now in all its gnarled glory. I groaned as she shifted, spreading her legs for me, begging with her body. Her arousal was my nectar, sweet and intoxicating, drawing me in. I pushed and buried myself in her slick heat.
My aching cock was like a taproot, burrowing into the rich soil of her being. I could feel it seeking out the source of her life force, connecting with the ancient energy that now flowed through her veins. But I didn’t drain that energy. I amplified it.
I thrust, each stroke deliberate, building the power between us. It was like stoking a fire, with each movement fanning the flames higher. Samantha met my thrusts, her hips bucking against mine, urging me faster, deeper, until the forest around us vibrated with our shared energy. Leaves rustled, branches swayed, every living thing resonating with the primal force we generated.
I felt the climax build like a storm on the horizon. Samantha’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she trembled beneath me.
“Don’t fight it,” I growled, my voice no longer human. “Let it come.”
She cried out, her body thrashing as the orgasm tore through her. The forest’s energy surged in a great wave that slammed into us, dragging us under. I roared as my peak hit, ripping through me, blinding in its force.
In that moment, she was not Samantha, and I was not Faelan—or even the Green Man. We were the forest, the earth, the very essence of life. United, bound, and pulsing with the heartbeat of the world.
In the aftermath, we lay together on the moss that had grown to form a perfect cradle for our bodies. I absently traced patterns on her skin—ancient symbols of protection and power.
“You’re a quick study.”
Sam laughed. The sound was bright and clear in the hushed forest. “I have a good teacher—and the lessons are most definitely engaging.” She propped herself up on one elbow and gave me a teasing look. “But I have to ask—is this how you normally teach forest magic? Because if so, I have questions about your previous students.”
It was my turn to laugh. “This method is…specific to our situation.”
Her expression sobered. “Because of the bond?”
I nodded, and reached up to tuck a strand of pale hair behind her ear. “What flows between us is unique. I’ve never shared my essence with a human before. I’ve never been…tethered this way.”
Her eyes searched my face. “Do you regret the ritual?”
For millennia, I’d roamed freely, belonging to all forests and to none. Now I was anchored to this mortal, whose life would pass in what felt to me like the blink of an eye.
Or…would it? Because the undertone of pale green had not left her skin, and it was no trick of the light filtering through the tree canopy.
“No regret,” I said finally. I was surprised by the truth of it. “None at all.”
“Good, because I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.”
To demonstrate, she placed her palm on my chest. From the point of contact, a small vine emerged—not from her skin,but from mine. It curled in a perfect spiral over my heart, then bloomed with a single white flower.
And as Samantha’s hands began to explore again, her newly controlled power adding layers of sensation to her touch, I found myself looking forward to all she had yet to learn—and all I had yet to discover through being her teacher.
13
Sam
A year later…
White paper lanterns hung from the branches, swaying gently in the spring breeze. Tables draped in tie-dyed cloth dotted the clearing, adorned with wildflower centerpieces. People milled about in semi-formal wear—flowing dresses, linen suits, the occasional splash of ceremonial color. The air smelled of greenery and incense, with undertones of curry from the feast being prepared at the communal kitchen.
Morning Wood was in full swing.
