Now for the tricky part.
Extending my senses, I focused on the metaphysical prison around us, the invisible walls that kept us trapped. In my mind's eye, I pictured the curved glass of the bottle, saw it take shape and solidify until it was as real as the bed we lay on.
Slowly, painstakingly, I poured our merged power into that image, willing it to manifest. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple from the effort. The air grew heavy, pressing in on us...
There was a musical ping, like struck crystal, and suddenly translucent green glass surrounded us on all sides, distorting the light. The bottle that defined our prison had taken physical form.
I breathed in. "It worked."
Luce propped himself up on an elbow to survey our newly tangible prison. Even that small movement had his bare chest rubbing against my back in a way that sent tingles straight to my core.
"You did it," Luce said, sounding genuinely impressed. "Now let's see how many pieces you can break it into."
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the distracting heat of Luce's body pressed against mine. Gathering the rest of our magic, I focused it into a tight, pulsing sphere between my palms. It grew brighter, more intense, until it felt like I was holding a miniature sun.
"Okay," I whispered, my jaw clenched with effort. "I'm going to try to break the bottle. If this works, it should shatter the glass and free us. Be ready, it might be a bumpy ride."
Luce's hand settled warmly on my hip, his claws pricking my skin. "Do it."
I envisioned the power exploding outwards, a shockwave of pure force that would reduce the bottle to glittering shards. Stiffening, I released it.
The bottle shuddered violently, a series of ear-splitting cracks rending the air. For a moment, I thought it had worked.
Then the world tilted sideways. It was like the worst earthquake imaginable, tossing us around like ragdolls.
I tumbled off the bed with a yelp, hitting the floor hard. A heavy weight landed on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Luce. His thighs bracketed mine, the hard ridge of his arousal pressed intimately against my core.
He let out a guttural moan, his hips rocking forward instinctively. Even through the barrier of our underwear, I could feel the searing heat of him.
Then he froze, a mortified flush staining his cheeks a deeper blue. "Shit, Rissa, not the time?—"
He scrambled off me hastily, looking anywhere but at my face. It would have been comical if I wasn't so thoroughly rattled myself.
I sat up gingerly, willing my racing heart to slow. The bottle was still very much intact around us, mocking me with its solidity.
"It's fine," I managed, trying to pretend I wasn't half-crazed with frustrated desire. "We'll just have to...try again."
My gaze involuntarily drifted downward, taking in the impressive outline straining against Luce's underwear. Holy hell. I blinked, then blinked again.
When I'd seen him earlier, there had been a modest, unassuming bulge. Nothing to be embarrassed about but alsonothing to write home about. But now? It was like a damn tent pole had sprung up in his briefs.
I dragged my focus back to his face with effort. "In this form you're, uh...you're definitely a grower, not a shower, huh?"
Luce shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms across his chest. "Can we not discuss my dick right now?"
"Why not? It's trying very hard to be part of the conversation." I chuckled at my own joke.
He shot me a pained look. "Unless you want to spend some quality time under me, stop it."
That made me laugh harder. The urge to pounce on him, to yank that last scrap of fabric away and explore every glorious inch of his daemon form, was nearly overwhelming.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, using the sting of my teeth on my lips as a distraction. We needed to focus on escape.
Even if escape was currently the last thing on my mind. Goddess help me, I wanted him. Wanted to discover if he could surpass the toe-curling ecstasy he'd shown me in his human shape.
No. Bad Rissa. Priorities.
