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She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest, and drew in his scent. For the first time in hours, days even, she felt safe.
But relaxing into his arms also relaxed her hold on the channeling. At the sudden wave of magic, she stiffened.
He ran a hand through her hair. “No, never feel ashamed. I want it, and I want you to enjoy it.”
Something inside her released, and a little moan of relief slipped out of her as the channeling flared.
Lio swore. “I can’t tell you how good this feels. The respite…”
“What do you mean?”
“Carrying around more than one affinity is never comfortable. Even for a Hesperine. Sometimes I feel like my own skin is too tight.”
She leaned into their connection. She felt a wave of tension drain out of him, too.
“Oh my Goddess, Cassia. This is better than wringing myself out into the most exhausting spell I can devise. Don’t ever worry about taking too much.”
Down to the ravenous, empty core of her, she was grateful for that reassurance.
“I promise I will always make it good for you.” She nuzzled his throat. “I’ll use this to give you relief and pleasure every time. I’ll never take without giving.”
She focused her arcane senses, testing the current. It felt like trying to control a river with her bare hands. But there was something intuitive about it. Her hunger knew what to do.
“Always trust your hunger,” Lio murmured in her ear.
She stopped fighting the current and let herself slip into its flow. Now she could guide it. She gave it a careful, firm pull.
Lio sucked in a breath, his head falling back against the sofa. “It feels even better, now that I understand what you’re doing to me.”
“Tell me if you want me to take less.”
“No. Take more.”
She licked her lips. “How much more?”
He met her gaze, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “As your magic tutor, I need to know how hard you can pull. For research.”
She loved him. For that gleam in his eye. For teasing her when, a moment before, they had faced the threat of death.
“I love you,” she said, and Willed his magic into her with all her focus.
With a fanged grimace, he gasped.
She pulled back. “Did that hurt you?”
“No.” He grabbed her hand and guided her touch to the hard ridge pressing against the front of his robe.
“Oh.” She licked her lips and rubbed him through the fabric, giving his magic another pull.
He arched into her hand. “Do not ever feel guilty about this.”
His eyes slid shut, and he rested his head back against the sofa again. But his face was too flushed for pleasure to be the only cause.
She withdrew her hand from his erection and felt his forehead. “You have a fever, and that is a side effect of magefire, not my channeling.”
He caught her hand in his. “My fever is the last thing on my mind.”
“We need to cool down your body.” She peeled what was left of his battle robe off of him.
