With Audrey meeting him halfway, Jinn gave her a little more force, a little more depth. He matched his movements to hers rather than insist on a pace that would bring him satisfaction, and felt her tighten around him in response. When she came, after a few minutes of this, he scraped his short, blunt nails along the skin of her midriff, drawing patterns that might in another life have meant something but were now idle designs.
He gave her a minute to catch her breath, another to surrender to the realization that he was not through with her yet. Then Jinn drew her atop him, her back still to his chest, her body now entirely cradled in his arms, and hooked both of her legs around his knees. With his arm tight around her waist, he held her to him, rolling his hips so that with every thrust he rubbed against that spot inside her which would cause her pleasure.
Still, nothing was left to chance. He palmed her breasts, her sex, alternated gentle strokes and harshness he knew she could endure. And in her ear he whispered that she would let him do this, that she would take what she was given. That she would be good for him.
As if there was any other way.
Many minutes later, when he was satisfied he had drawn from her all he could, he rolled her under him and filled her with fire. Not the sort that burned, nor scorched, nor left any mark at all. It wasn't a man's come, because he wasn't a man. Inside her, the fire spread, filling her veins and her bloodstream, before fading to nothing at all. Jinn withdrew gently and stroked Audrey's hair, touched his hand to the dip between her shoulder blades. "There, little one. I have given you what you want." To the best of his abilities, at least.