He crooked his fingers and she gasped.
"... merciful goddess ..."
Mack laughed, a low deep rumble, and flipped them over easily. He pinned her to the bed with one hand and tweaked one nipple gently, and she caught the flecks of purple growing in his eyes. A whisp of purple mist had her smiling, and she urged him on. He knew she was Kisdaria now, and self-control didn't matter now. Only pleasure and delight and her Mack. The other half of her soul, and the echo of an ancient myth.
The mist thickened and spread, and Mack looked at her questioningly even as she wiggled beneath him, trying to pull him into her.
"You helped me transform a huntership, Mack and you can hear SIMON - did you think nothing else would change?" He closed his eyes and shook his head, and she took advantage of his distraction. Her own magics rose and surrounded his untrained strength, containing it. He might one day be Kisdarion, but for now - she bit his shoulder mischievously, and he moved - they were Gillie and Mack.