How many times had Terrence thought that what he and Ella had couldn't get any better, and how many times had he been proven wrong? He hadn't even touched her yet, and still, this left every previous moment in the dust. Not that he wouldn't cherish those memories, but holy hell. She'd always known him better than anyone, and he'd always wanted her right down to his very core, to the marrow of his bones, but this took all of it to an entirely new level. He hadn't even touched her yet.
As if that thought propelled him, he moved forward, roughly tangling his hands in her hair and pulling her head up to meet him as he leaned in for a kiss, pressing his entire body against hers. And if he'd thought that the feeling seconds before was the best thing he'd ever felt, well, fuck, he'd just been proven wrong again. He felt as though he was already in the midst of an orgasm, but wasn't; his blood was boiling as if lit by the fires of hell, and a real fire had just burst to life in the room around them, the bodies catching first.
It didn't matter, Terrence knew that the fire wouldn't touch them. His magic wasn't trying to kill them, it was just bursting free, unrestrained, and he wished that it could have burnt off his clothing, too. Still, it was extremely satisfying to tear at hers - formerly his, really, because now she was wearing his clothes and holding his soul inside her, fucking hell - and feel them give way easily to the sheer power of his hands. He felt magnificent, unstoppable, at least when it came to everything to do with Ella: there would never be any more doubt, ever, that she belonged to him, and he belonged to her.