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He arched a suggestive brow. “What do you have in mind?”
“I have a theory of my own. Will you test it with me?”
His smile widened. “Of course. Especially if it involves mutual devouring.”
“I didn’t know ‘mutual devouring’ was a documented magical process, Sir Scholar.”
“It isn’t. I think we’re inventing it.”
She shut her eyes and sank into their Union, into the channeling, until she could taste the flow of power with her arcane senses. She applied her newly trained magical concentration.
There. She had been right. She could feel the mark the magefire had left on him. That burnt aftertaste ran through his sweet, dark power like a lingering poison.
She concentrated on that portion of his magic, but it was too difficult to separate, too easy to get lost in the whole of him.
He made a low hum in his throat. “This feels so good.”
If there was ever a time when physical focus aids would help, surely it was now. She kissed her way along his bicep, his muscle shivering under her tongue. Still his magic eluded her.
She bit his shoulder. There. She had it. She pulled on the damaged magic inside him.
Sparks seemed to fly through her veins, little points of his pain, but they filled her with triumph. She was taking away his hurt.
Is this hurting you? came his voice in her mind.
No more than your Union with my pain hurts you.
The tremor left his limb, and the pillow fell to the floor with a soft rustle. Then he slid his arm under her. He lay her back over the arm of the sofa so her neck was supported, her throat exposed.
His mouth trailed over her vein, his smooth skin caressing hers. His bite did not hold its usual force, but the slow, tentative way he slid his fangs into her flesh sent a curl of pleasure through her. He hesitated. Then his fangs slid out of her, and he bit her once more, more firmly this time.
“Yes,” she gasped, stroking his jaw again. “That’s better.”
With a groan of relief, he braced her against the arm of the couch and drank deeply. The only sounds in their quiet coffee room were her rough breathing and his swallows and her pulse pounding in her ears.
His jaw flexed under her hand, and he withdrew his fangs once more. Then he struck, his bite fastening on her neck, hard and deep.
“Yes,” she urged him on. “You need more.”
He dragged her farther down onto the couch, pulling her beneath him. His weight came down on her. She cradled him between her thighs, and the intimate contact, even through her robe, stoked the current of magic again. But she was not its puppet. It was her instrument.
She concentrated on the flow of magic through his body. The sharp brilliance under her hands where she tangled her fingers in his hair. The warmth in his chest where his bare skin pressed against her clothes. Down to the heat of his lust.
“How does this feel?” she asked.
His bite tightened, and he shoved her robes out of his way. Her underlinens untangled from around her with a whip of levitation.
A smile came to her face. How rarely she could leave him speechless.
She pulled up her knees and dragged the current of magic down through his body, concentrating on the center of his desire.
He gripped her hips in both hands and pounded home. Stars of pleasure danced on her eyelids, and her concentration slipped. The channeling surged out of her control. A heated flood crashed through them where their bodies joined.
She felt fused to him. She wasn’t sure she could part her body from his if she tried. Her hips moved with the current, betraying her, working his magic and his rhabdos for her satisfaction.
She tried to speak, but he pulled back from her vein and looked down at her. Her blood was bright red on his pale chin. A soft glow emanated from him everywhere her skin touched his.
“I want this,” he told her.
