Page 86 of Magic in My Bones

Ren’s grin was radiant, his confidence and joy lighting up the room. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, pulling me closer.

“And you’re extraordinary,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “Always have been.”

“What I am is so turned on I can’t even think,” he replied.

I pulled back slightly, my forehead resting gently against Ren's. For a moment, the world outside vanished. All I could feel was the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling, and the sound of our hearts beating in unison.

“I don't want to rush you,” I whispered, my thumb brushing along the line of his jaw. “I want you to be ready. To know that you're in control.”

Ren closed his eyes, a soft breath escaping him, his chest rising and falling beneath my hand. I could feel the weight of everything on him—tomorrow, the ritual, the fight we still had to win. But here, in this moment, there was nothing but us. No distractions, no expectations. Justus.

But Ren seemed different tonight. More focused, more certain of something. I could feel it in the way he held himself, the way his gaze never left mine, as if he was searching for something more than comfort. Something deeper.

“I want this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible against my lips. “I want you to teach me... how to pleasure you. How to… make love to you the way you like.”

The words hit me like a spark, catching me off guard. I stayed still for a moment, searching his face, trying to understand what he meant.

I pulled back slightly, studying his face with the same careful attention I gave to analyzing complex spells. “And I will guide you,” I promised, my voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that always made him shiver. “Just as I've guided you in everything else. Do you trust me to show you?”

His breath caught. “Yes,” he whispered. “Always.”

“Good boy,” I murmured, rewarding him with a gentle kiss. “Then listen carefully. Tonight isn't about me taking my pleasure, or even about you giving it. It's about me teaching you to understand pleasure itself. How to give it, how to control it, how to master it.”

Ren nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire and trust.

“Words, love,” I reminded him gently but firmly. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I want to learn. I want you to teach me.”

30

The Art of Becoming

Ren

The room was quiet,but my heart pounded like it was trying to break free from my chest. I hadn’t expected to feel this way. I was nervous, but not afraid. I’d just asked him, no,demandedhim to teach me. I wanted to show him that what we had was real, that I could give him the same trust, the same care, the same love he'd always shown me. That we were partners now, in every sense.

I shifted, feeling the warmth of Dorian’s body against mine, his steady breathing the only sound in the room. Even here, in this intimate moment, Dorian exuded a quiet authority that made my heart race. His every movement was deliberate, controlled, as though he were conducting an elaborate ritual. Which, in a way, he was. A ritual of pleasure and trust, where he would guide me through each step with the same careful attention he brought to teaching necromancy.

His hands had always been so gentle, like he knew exactly what I needed. But this… this was different. I wanted him to teach me how to touch him the way he’d touched me, how tomake him feel like Imattered.Like I wasn’t just a student in his arms, but someone he could trust, someone worthy of his love and his pleasure.

Dorian's eyes met mine, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Ren,” he whispered, his voice like honey, “I'd be honored to teach you.”

My breath caught in my throat. The prosthetic felt foreign yet familiar against my skin, a promise of possibilities I'd only dreamed of. Dorian's hand found mine, guiding it to his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, grounding me in this moment.

“Start here,” Dorian instructed, his voice dropping into that commanding tone that always made me shiver. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, guiding my touch with precise intention. “Feel my heartbeat. Learn my body's rhythms. Every touch should have purpose.”

I nodded eagerly, then caught myself. “Yes, sir,” I whispered, remembering how he preferred verbal responses during intimate moments.

His approving smile sent warmth flooding through me. “Good lad,” he murmured. “Now, show me how well you can follow instructions.”

I explored the planes of his chest, marveling at the way his skin felt beneath my fingertips. Dorian's eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Emboldened, I leaned in, pressing my lips to the hollow of his throat.

“That's it,” he breathed, his hands finding purchase on my hips. “Trust your instincts, Ren. Your body knows what to do.”

As if on cue, my hips rocked forward, the prosthetic brushing against Dorian's thigh. A jolt of pleasure shot through me, unexpected and exhilarating. Dorian's eyes flew open, dark with desire.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice husky.

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