A varied magic from his own sandstorm of intense heat played invisibly along the bared skin of his chest. A scar carved from one side to the next a powerful glamour hiding the reality. Few would see past it, see the binding magic keeping his form limited to flesh, but it could be felt in the pulse between their magics.
Kennet leaned into Naamah's ear, his voice as if speaking through a flame, "too bad you are leashed and not free." The word free was often misused amongst the circus as the Djinn saw it. All of them were bound by contract in one form or another. "I am not some dark chocolate cake for you to know."
Sliding a hand down her side, Kennet left a trail of fire burning the skin he knew would not be truly affected by it. "You know nothing of the sensations I would love." He again whispered in her ear, pressing his body back into hers to tease the tar-like void of her energies with his. "I am your boss now, succubus. I do not let a lot of help come my way."