Page 27

Oh.

The simple confession steals my breath more effectively than Kaelen’s pheromones or Caspian’s underwater kisses. This ancient being, this forest embodied, blooms for me.

“Oren,” I whisper, not sure what else to say.

He cups my face with his enormous hand, his touch impossibly gentle. “Would show you more,” he murmurs. “If willing.”

“More of the forest?”

His eyes glow brighter. “More of me.”

The air between us changes, thickens with something that isn’t quite Kaelen’s aggressive lust but is no less potent. It smells of rich earth after rain, growing things, ancient wood, and life itself.

“Yes,” I breathe, without hesitation.

Oren leads me to the base of the great tree, where the roots have formed a natural hollow filled with soft moss that pulses with gentle light. He sits, drawing me down beside him, the space intimate yet open to the star-filled sky above through gaps in the canopy.

“The moss…” I murmur as it caresses my skin through the thin fabric of my dress. “It’s moving.”

“Living carpet,” Oren explains, his voice a deep rumble that I feel more than hear. “Responds to emotion. To desire.”

As if to demonstrate, the moss beneath us pulses with a wave of light that follows the trail of his massive finger as it traces the outline of my leg, never quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat of him.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, watching the light dance across the moss wherever his shadow falls.

“You’rebeautiful,” he counters, and the simple directness of his words makes my heart flutter.

I reach up, tracing the contours of his face—the ridges that resemble tree bark, the hollows where moss grows soft and velvety, the places where tiny mushrooms sprout like freckles across his cheekbones. He closes his eyes at my touch, a tremor running through his massive frame.

“Long time,” he murmurs. “Never touched. Gentle.”

The confession breaks something open inside me.

I rise on my knees, bringing our faces level, and press my lips to his. The kiss is different from our first—deeper, more certain. He tastes of honey and earth and something that makes my head swim. His mouth moves against mine with tenderness, and I feel small flowers blooming against my palms, where they rest on his shoulders.

“Lily,” he breathes against my lips, my name a prayer. “Want to show you pleasure. Forest way.”

“Yes,” I whisper back, though I have no idea what that means.

He lays me back against the moss, which cradles me like it was made for my body. Perhaps it was. The stars shine lazily overhead as Oren’s massive form hovers above me, blocking out patches of sky. His eyes glow like twin pools of mossy green.

“Trust?” he asks, one enormous hand hovering over me.

“Trust,” I confirm, the word coming easily.

When it comes, his touch is so gentle it almost tickles—fingertips brushing across my collarbone and down my arms, leaving trails of light in the moss beneath me and tiny flowers blooming in their wake. The flowers grow from nothing, springing along my skin wherever his fingers trace, their petals brushing against me with whisper-soft caresses.

“Oh,” I gasp as the sensation intensifies. The flowers multiply, their touch becoming more deliberate. They grow along my legs, their silken petals sliding under the hem of my dress, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

“Forest pleasure,” Oren explains, his voice deeper, rougher. “Life force. Creation.”

The flowers continue their exploration, impossibly climbing higher, their petals brush against the most intimate parts of me, and I gasp as a wave of pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt courses through me.

It’s not just physical—it feels like my entire being is connected to something vast and ancient, like the forest itself is caressing me, awakening nerves I didn’t know existed.

“Oren,” I breathe, arching into the sensation. “This is—I’ve never—”

“Different,” he agrees, his massive hand hovering just above my body, somehow controlling the flowers that continue their sensual assault. “Natural magic.”