Page 217 of Fallen Stars
“You okay?” she panted to Enzo.
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely, his hand still attached to the coffin. “This magick… It’s an abomination. It’s evil.”
As vile as it felt to Elara’s senses, it felt familiar too.
Enzo was firmly planted behind her, his chest at her back, a furnace pushing warmth into her cold skin. She held onto it as she closed her eyes, Enzo’s breath at her neck.
“Let’s try again. Exactly like the studio,” he murmured. “Only this time moonlight instead of shadows.”
She took another cleansing breath before placing both palms flat against the coffin. This time, only a dull sickness bothered her, but she breathed through it. Elara dipped into herself, her moonlight like gossamer as it spun out of her. It began to ripple through her hands, coating them in silver. Enzo shifted his palms, pressing them to the backs of her hands as sunlight flared from him. And when she felt it, she was struck with that same deep, vulnerable want as she felt his power ripple through her own, flowing into the coffin.
When her magick touched the coffin, it recoiled, and Elara had to grit her teeth as she forced it to begin coating the casket. She felt Enzo tense behind her, as though his magick was experiencing the same resistance.
She fought past the sickly energy as an unplaced fear began to seep into her. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking as that feeling of utter anxiety and utter helplessness invaded her senses, though there was no rhyme or reason to it, no trigger as to why. She simply felt a palpable fear.
“Enzo,” she breathed.
“I feel it too,” he said. “Don’t focus on her. Don’t focus on the coffin. Focus on our magick. Keep going, angel.”
She took a deep breath, rallying her moonlight once more. The terrible power beneath the coffin was acting as a vortex, trying to suck her magick into it, but Elara focused on keeping her moonlight under her own control, smoothing it across every surface it could reach.
“Focus on our magick,” she reminded herself, leaning further into Enzo and basking in his sunlight as it worked with her power. She took another cleansing breath, fully immersed in Enzo now, allowing her magick to simply flood out of her.
She stopped thinking of her fear or the coffin below her and Piscea, and focused wholly on Enzo. A feeling began to rise within her, awakening the same way it had when they had first melded magick in Enzo’s studio.
Enzo pushed himself further into her, a low growl escaping him as he too felt the effects of their fusing powers. It felt even more intense than the first time, as though Elara was being stripped of her skin, only darkness and moonlight left beneath as Enzo’s light and flames caressed her. His sunlight was a combination of both, the heat licking her in places that began to beg and throb.
“Enzo,” she moaned. “We shouldn’t be… It’s happening again.” She cursed as she felt Enzo’s lightinsideher, creeping under her skin, invading her very being. She’d never felt so scared. She’d never felt so alive.
The candles in the temple flickered as Enzo’s chest began to heave behind her. Their hands flowed with magick as it began to flood outwards, the light spread over the surface of the coffin, solidifying like cooling black metal.
Elara’s power stroked over Enzo, meeting his again.
“Fuck,” Enzo groaned, pressing into her. Oh gods, he was so hard. “Elara, lift up your dress.”
“Enzo, this is wrong on so many levels,” she panted, even as she felt her arousal begin to coat the tops of her thighs as their magick began to steadily coat the coffin’s top. “We’re in a temple. Of the dead.” A bead of sweat rolled down her neck from the exertion of pushing and balancing her magick out.
“And you’re a goddess to be worshipped, not this fucking usurper. Focus on me. And lift. Your. Dress.”
Excitement thrilled through Elara as well as the deep wrongness of what they were about to desecrate.
She took one hand off the coffin momentarily to hitch up her skirts until her lower half was bared. The cold air of the space played on her, and she shivered again as Enzo moaned behind her. He took her hand, slamming it back onto the coffin. Then with another movement, he pushed her further onto it so she was leaning on it as he undid his trousers.
The sweeping nausea was gone now that the top of the coffin was coated in their magick, and she breathed a sigh of relief, quickly turning into one of pleasure asshe felt the weight of his length slap against her ass cheek. She arched her back as their magick continued to caress her. Enzo’s light whispered to her as they continued to meld, the sides of the coffin now beginning to coat in a silver metal that shifted to gold and silver again in the dim flames of the place.
His hand cupped her.
“Shit. You’re so wet for me. My little darkling, ready to be fucked in a temple,” he whispered against her neck, chuckling as their powers drummed and drummed and drummed together, singing their own song.
“This is so wrong,” Elara whispered again, whimpering as she felt how fragile and sensitive she was under his touch, his magick already stripping her raw.
He slid his hand around her sex, coating his fingers with her juices before bringing them to his mouth.
“Since I don’t have time to taste you myself right now,” he murmured before pushing her further down.
Their hands interlaced, still working to finish coating the coffin, the underside now nearly complete.
Enzo nudged Elara’s legs further apart as she bent, and then with a sharp inhale, he pushed himself into her.