There was a half-second of soft complaint when he released her hair; Elia enjoyed the pressure and the sense of demand. But how could she complain when his fingers moved around her throat so familiarly? She swayed slightly on her feet, but Kennet was solid enough for both of them – even as the deep burn of his mouth against hers weakened her knees.
She purred against his mouth, hungry for more, only to be rewarded by feeling her back press up against the heavy trunks. They, too, were solid; trapped between Kennet and the trunks, Elia was safely on her feet. And that was a good thing – without the support, the exquisite pain of his magic burning through her would have brought her back to her knees.
"As long as you will cooperate," the witch breathed, her dark power surging through her, healing and strengthening the inches of flesh that the Djinn threatened to turn to ash. The shadow-curtain that she had created became more solid, benefiting from the rush of power. Her shadowy robe, however, all but dissolved; there were only a few wisps of darkness left clinging to her skin.