Spice and char, and the sizzle of seared skin that healed in the seconds after it burned. Logically, Elia knew why she enjoyed Kennet's particular brand of foreplay so well – she knew about the rush of endorphins and dopamine that came with pain, that his burning caught her in a sweep of entirely natural pleasure provided by her central nervous system. But there wasn't science to all of it. He pulled her shadows closer to the surface, made her power hum with heady strength – even at its low ebb.
Right then, while she was already wired with it, that rush of pleasure and power made her shudder, the shadows flitting across her skin writhing in response, the ones in the trailer itself deepening to patches of black that whispered and roiled. Outside, the dark seemed to close in, locking witch and djinn even further away.
"Maybe I'll swallow it instead," she mused. "And become the dark myself." Either way, she didn't seem worried. In the moment, she couldn't find it in herself to be worried about anything. Not with Kennet's body pressed closer to hers, pinning her against the wall, and his fingers curling familiarly around her throat. "I make you offers, and you push them aside. I thought you didn't want that one?"
The question was just as dreamy on her lips as the comment about swallowing the shadows had been, and she was handily distracted again by the press of his mouth. Elia moaned against the kiss, against the spike of power that came with it and the heady pleasure of his hand burning her skin. Burn and heal, destroy and mend – it was such a delicious, broken chemistry they had.