Theira’s hand tightened on his, and she took a step closer to him too.
All the way closer, pressing her body flush against his naked, sweaty muscles.
Turnabout, enemy mine.
Varius’ pupils darkened.
Theira put her other hand against his chest, feeling his racing heart. And he let her.
But he also wrappedhisother arm around her back, holding her close. Holding herthere, with him.
Theira tilted her head and whispered into his ear as he shuddered, her blood singing for an entirely different reason. “You didn’t call a halt because you were tired, did you.”
His thumb stroked hers in small circles and his other hand mimicked it on her back.
As he stroked down, and down.
Maybe her blood sang for the same reason.
“I wanted to be sure,” Varius murmured, “I had enough energy for whatever you might have in mind. I’m all warmed up for you.”
Gaia, so was she.
Varius’ voice was a low, delicious rumble as he asked, “Are you hungry, Theira?”
In answer, Theira snaked the hand on his chest up around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
His lips met hers, then his tongue, the kiss as fierce as she felt and growing ever hotter.
Theira wrapped her legs around him, and with his ridiculous muscles he supported her effortlessly—and then he turned and pushed her into the wall, right underneath their framed painting.
Theira grinned against his lips and pushed his face back, just for a moment, so she could watch his reaction.
As she levitated them both.
“Ever had magical sex, Varius?” Theira purred. “Because you’re about to.”
The unbridled delight in his gaze—forher—was everything. “Only in my dreams,” he said. “I’d be happy to show you what I’ve imagined.”
“Let’s see what we can do together,” Theira said.
She teleported them to her bedroom, and let the world vanish for a little while.
As Varius stirred the paint for a new frame, he watched Theira across the art room. Usually her movements were smooth and deliberate, but here, she played. She flicked the brush, she zig-zagged it quickly. She studied what she’d done and switched to the reverse end of her brush to scrape a line through the paint, just to see what it would do.
Varius smiled to see it. She could do whatever struck her, and she did, without fear or self-consciousness. Even knowing he was in the same room and could see her.
She let him see all of her.
“I can feel you watching me,” Theira remarked, but she didn’t stop painting.
The old instincts were still with them.
“I like watching you,” Varius replied just as easily.
Theira glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “I know.”
Memories of watching her naked body above him that morning flashed through his mind, and Varius’ blood rushed to the predictable area.
