Chapter 1293
They circled it like dancers around a flame. Grace dropped to her knees before it, her lips parting, her breath quick and shallow. "She’s watching," she murmured. "But not from above. She’s inside the flower. Inside us."
Rose approached slowly, reverently, her hands gliding up her own arms, her fingers skimming the curves of her breasts as she moved. She reached the flower and knelt beside Grace, eyes half-lidded. "This aspect is seduction," she whispered. "Not fire, not root. This is dream."
Lucy stepped beside Jude, her hand sliding down to cup his hardening cock. "She wants us to forget," she breathed, "everything but touch."
Emma leaned in from his other side. "To be lost in it. To be her."
The moment Lucy stroked him, the flower shivered. Its glow pulsed, brighter, deeper. From within its open heart came a soft sound - not a hum this time. A moan. Low. Feminine. Pleading. And then, from the petals, something stepped out.
She wasn’t tall like the fire goddess or shadowed like the root. This one was soft curves and fluid grace, skin the color of the moonlight before dawn, hair cascading in loose curls that glimmered silver and violet. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling like she was already panting with pleasure. And she glowed from within, as if light had been swallowed and now begged to escape.
She opened her eyes.
They were not eyes.
They were dreams.
She stepped forward. Her body didn’t move like a person’s - it glided, flowing from place to place as if carried by desire itself. She passed Sophie and Zoey, brushing her fingers across their shoulders. Both women moaned and dropped to their knees, trembling as if their orgasms had begun with just that touch.
She reached Jude and smiled. "You are the center."