She could feel the pull at her magic, the heat that threatened to overwhelm her. But her power continued to bubble up, responding to his inner flame, wrapping around the witch to keep her safe and whole even as his heat tried to consume her. The trunks weren't even noticed; Elia would only realize later that her hands were dark with char from where she gripped the edges.
If she hadn't been so distracted by the sensation of him moving inside her, his hips rolling against hers hungrily, the witch might have perked a brow at his instructions. There was something intriguing about the idea that he didn't care how much attention she drew, as long as his name wasn't mentioned. As long as she wasn't talking about their entanglements – which, to her credit, she wasn't. Only the succubus and Issac knew what happened between them, and Elia wasn't even chatty when it came to them.
But she was very distracted, much more interested in grinding her hips into his, a sensation that left her moaning with delight.