"Did you get burned?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No, not this time." I'd caught my hair on fire once. I laughed, sort of shakily. "Stupid."
Micah looked at me, and there was something in that look.
"What?" I asked.
"The ardeur is gone."
I thought about it, felt around for it, and found no, no, not gone, but receded. Not receded like when I fought it, but more like me getting almost burned had helped me think again. Or maybe even the ardeur bows to physical survival. But I could feel it like a storm that had moved offshore, but was still coming.
"I thought I'd caught myself on fire."
"Again," he said.
I frowned at him. "Yes, again. Is it my fault that you're so amazing that you make me forget everything, even physical safety?"
He shook his head. "Not me, the ardeur. The ardeur makes everything better, Anita."
There was something about the way he said it, something serious and a little sad, that made me say, "What's wrong?"
He kissed me on the tip of the nose. "Later."
I might have argued with him, but the ardeur decided that it had given us enough time. It hit me like a train and threw me into his arms, made my hands move over his body as if I was hungry to touch him, as if no touch, no caress, nothing would be enough. We kissed the same way, as if we were hungry for each other. It was as if we could have we would have climbed into each other's skins, wrapped ourselves through each other, closer than skin or flesh could survive.
One minute my mouth was trying to climb inside Micah's, the next my beast rose, swimming up, up through my body, coming out of that metaphysical place, and climbing up my body. Micah drew back from my mouth enough to say, "Anita..."
I used hands and body to press his mouth back to mine. His beast began to spill up through his body in a line of breath-stealing heat. It rose fast and faster as if it had to catch up with mine. They raced up our bodies, raced through that dark water, raced, and raced, faster and faster until they hit the surface. It wasn't about changing shape, it was about changing bodies. It was about that need to wrap as much of him around as much of me, as tight, and close as I could. It was as if the very essence of our bodies had responded to that desire. Our beasts spilled out of our mouths, and brushed metaphysical furred sides down each other, as we spilled inside each other's bodies. It was closer than sex. Closer than anything I'd ever felt. It was as if for a blinding, shattering moment, we were in each other's bodies. Not in our minds, not merely our thoughts, or feelings, not even memories, but for a breath or two, a part of me slipped inside him, and a part of him slipped inside me. They weren't parts that could think and feel like a human being. There was none of that, wow, so this is how it feels to be Micah. There was only a sense of burrowing down, down deep inside him, of finding that metaphysical hiding place where the beast lay and having my beast curl up, for a moment, inside his most secret space, while his beast did the same in me.
In that moment, the ardeur fed. Fed on that warm, living power, fed on the sensation of being deeper inside Micah's body than I'd ever been inside any man's before. The ardeur fed, and left us quieter, calmer, happier.
The beasts didn't turn and go back up the way they'd come. One moment that piece of me was curled warm and safe inside him, and the sensation of him inside me was like when we made love, as if even his beast were bigger and took up more room than mine. That warm, living energy didn't come back up our throats, it was as if the two energies spilled out the fronts of our bodies, out our skin, so that for a heartbeat it felt as if we'd burst our skins, and two great furred shapes were passing through us, then it was as if the two beasts dropped back into place. I swear I felt as if something physical with true weight was dropped down the center of my body, and hit the end of me. As if instead of falling from the height, I was the height, and could feel the body falling through me, and hitting my floor.
We broke from the kiss, laughing, breathless. I found my voice first, "Wow."
He looked happier than I'd ever seen him, relaxed, more... more at home somehow, as if some great weight had gone from him. "You know," he said, still breathing hard, "you're not supposed to be able to do that, if one of you is human."
"I didn't know you were supposed to be able to do that at all," I said.
"If you are both powerful, and a true mated pair, then it's possible."
"You say it, like it has a name."
"Shiva and Pavarti, or simply Maithuna, it's Sanskrit for union, or coupling."
"Shiva, who would destroy the world with his energy if Pavarti didn't constantly have sex with him and spill off the energy."
He nodded. "World religion class from college again?"
I shook my head. "A few years back we found a naga, a real live one that had been a crime victim. It made me go look up Hindu religion. I mean, if you get one type of supernatural being, you might get others from the same place."
"Did you?"
"Nope." I thought about it. "Well, not yet." I put my arms behind his head, and drew him down for a kiss. He didn't fight, but he kept himself just above my face. "You fed the ardeur. "
"I still want a kiss."
He kissed me, and it was gentle at first, then grew until we were feeding at each other's mouths again. He drew back, laughing and breathless. "I thought we'd done this already."
I wasn't sure how to explain it. We'd had metaphysical sex, and like sometimes happens after regular sex I was pumped, energized. I could feel him still hard and thick pressed between our bodies. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him as close physically as I'd had him metaphysically.
I kept one hand behind his neck, but let the other trace down his body, until I could cup him in my hand. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. I moved my hand up and wrapped my fingers around him. He was so hard, so thick, so solid in my hand that it made me close my eyes, made my breath shudder from my body.
I opened my eyes and knew that my focus was already soft. "I want this inside me."
He tried for amusement, but his face was raw with the beginnings of that need. His voice was hoarse again when he said, "Even without the ardeur ?"
I squeezed him tight enough to flutter his eyes back into his head. When he could see again, I said, "It's not the ardeur that makes me want you, Micah."
His voice was a harsh whisper, as if he were having trouble talking, "We'll never top what we've already done tonight."