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“Please.” I don’t make a conscious decision to beg this time. “Please let me come. I can’t take this.”

“You look so beautiful like that. Aroused and at my mercy.”

He’s still kissing me. It’s all too much.

“Gabriel.” I whimper his name.

“Is this casual enough for you?”

I can’t get out a coherent response, just a succession of little sounds. My body feels like it could fly apart.

Without warning, he sits up and releases my wrists, breaking the immediate connection. The unbearable, heightened sensation falls away, leaving just my very powerful natural arousal. A fresh surge of power, and instead of being pinned in place on my front, I’m on hands and knees.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod frantically. “No more games. I just want you.”

He slips on a condom—I guess all those lessons I was taught about the dangers of unprotected sex with fellow practitioners were drilled into him, too—then thrusts inside me without another word. From the way he grips my hips and pounds, he’s not forgotten my warning not to be tender. He slips a hand further around and strokes me with equal force. I come instantly, screaming louder than I did under the force of the Greenfire, spasming against him.

“Oh, Sadie,” he sighs.

Then he continues, a little slower now, but still deep and forceful. Whatever magic was holding me still seems to have fallen away with my orgasm, and I move back against him. After a few minutes, I come again, then he pulls me close, holds me firmly against him, redoubles his speed and force, and finally comes himself, showering a fresh batch of kisses on my head as he does.

We’re frozen in place for a moment or two, not by magic but by intensity. Then we fall back on the bed, and he pulls me into an embrace.

I wriggle into him as closely as I possibly can, clinging to him.

“I didn’t go too far?” he asks. “I’ve never quite gone down that route with anyone. I think I’d have killed anyone else if I’d tried.”

I start to cry, hot tears dripping on his chest.

“Fuck. I did go too far. God, Sadie, don’t cry.”

I shake my head. “It was perfect. I’ve just never felt so completely in someone’s control. Anyone else, I’d have fought them off. Or if they’d managed, I’d have been terrified. But I was at your mercy, and it felt like a nice place to be.”

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls me in tighter and strokes my head. I don’t know what to make of all this.

“Am I allowed to be sweet again now?” he asks.

“Always.”

“Then let me run you a bath and get you some water. You look like you’ve come back from a war.”

I don’t want him to move, but there’s sense in his words, so I release my death grip. I smile to see him walk over to the bathroom. It’s odd to see him walking around naked in my presence. I can compartmentalise sex, but there’s a strange intimacy in this.

The sound of running water and the scent of some sort of aromatherapy oil (not a patch on one of my mum’s concoctions, but not bad) drifts towards me, then Gabriel reappears with a glass of water. He could have achieved both tasks from the bed with a flick of his finger. Or not even that, in his case. But he’s done it by hand, a traditional sign of respect and regard.

He smiles to see me sprawled on the bed, already half asleep. “Drink this. And no sleep until you’ve had that soak.”

I wriggle back up to a seated position and let him hold the water glass to my lips.

Once the bath’s run, we slip into it together. I lean back against his chest as the water soothes my muscles and his hands encircle my waist. He’s still wearing the ring on a chain I saw last time I saw him naked, and it presses lightly into my back.

Last time we slept together, I couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. But now, God help me, I want nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him.

* * *

It’s mid-morning when we do wake up. We clearly both needed the sleep. When my eyes flicker open, I’m still cradled against his shoulder. I stroke his chest ultra gently, but it’s enough to wake him.