by Sara King
But, ‘Aqrab decided, drinking in the happy glow of the Fury’s face, if cheating was what it took to prolong the experience, he was perfectly willing to do so. Repeatedly.
“You,” the magus panted, after he had evaded her yet again, “are beginning to piss me off, djinni.”
“Oh?” he chuckled, dancing around her from the crystalline sanctuary of the half-realm, “what are you going to do about it?” He popped in behind her and tickled her ribs, then twisted away again before she could spin around and grab him.
He saw her pause, a devilish look of intent on her face, and he felt the cord between them flutter slightly, like someone had strummed the string of a harp. He frowned at that, having been caught off-guard, his defenses down in the face of their fun. Before he could slam up a wall to stop it, he felt the white-hot fire of a Fury’s magic suddenly snake up the soul-link and into his body. There was a tingling at his wrists and, when he looked, he saw brilliant white light of Fury energy settling around his forearms, solidifying into golden bands. ‘Aqrab froze when he recognized the spell that untold millennia of First-Lander magi had used to imprison djinni in the First Realm.
“Ah, mon Dhi’b…”
Then the bands hardened upon his arms and yanked him back into the First Realm with all the authority of a titan’s sledge.
“There you are,” she said, grinning and turning to face him as he appeared to her side, slack-jawed in horror. “Now. About that begging for mercy…”
‘Aqrab backed up at the ravenous look in her eyes, his heart hammering with a fiery combination of dread and exhilaration. Kaashifah padded after him, slow and easy, the walk of a hunting lioness. Stumbling away from her, ‘Aqrab felt his back back hit the cold side of a cavern wall and he gasped, realizing he had nowhere to run. Overwhelmed by that exquisite tide of risk, he heard himself babble, “Ah, mon Dhi’b, perhaps we can make some sort of bargain—”
But her eyes flashed yellow and she gave him a slow, lazy grin around fangs. “Why would you want to do that, djinni? I’m only giving you what you asked for.” She continued to saunter unhurriedly after him, allowing him plenty of time to run.
Because, really, what chance did a djinni have of outrunning a Third Lander?
Oh Goddess… He’d never been so thoroughly spooked—and turned on—in his life. This woman was stalking him. ‘Aqrab swallowed and, the golden dimensional-anchors around his wrists sizzling electrically against the stone behind him, he started inching sideways down the wall, away from her. “Um, mon Dhi’b, please be reasonable.” He hated the way it sounded like begging already.
Kaashifah cocked her head up at him, her devilish grin striking another thrill of excitement through his core. “Reasonable?” She licked her lips. Much too innocently, she said, “But I haven’t completed my side of the bargain, and you asked me to make you beg.”
Never had the cool, easy confidence of a woman driven him so completely over the edge. “Um,” he babbled. “We can renegotiate.” It was the first time she had ever trapped him in her Realm, and it was setting his chest, lungs, and loins afire.
Her grin becoming wolfish, she said, “Not on your life, djinni.”
Seeing the predatory gleam in her eyes, it took every ounce of self-control ‘Aqrab had to prevent himself from bolting like a startled gazelle. The heat in his groin was intensifying under her gaze, solidifying into the strongest, most pounding pressure his flesh had ever endured, and ‘Aqrab knew that being wrestled to the floor, at this point, was probably going to result in a displeased wolf.
To his surprise, she smiled. “You smell of fear, djinni.”
“Ah,” ‘Aqrab managed, never having felt so utterly cornered as right now, facing this Fury who was about to have her way with him. His heart hammering at the idea, it left him so hard it hurt.
She cocked her head and sniffed the air. “Fear and…” Her eyes flickered down to his groin and she hesitated. To his shock—and increasing panic—a slow, evil smile began to trace upon her lips. “It swells when a man is…interested…isn’t that what you told me?”
Oh Goddess, he thought, his panic rising as he inched sideways toward the cave entrance. I am so buggered. “Um. There are many different types of ‘interest,’ mon Dhi’b, and before you overreact—”
“Strip. I would see it before I make you beg.”
‘Aqrab, who had been carefully peering out the cave entrance, trying to judge how far he could get before she tackled him, froze. Turning back to face her slowly, he swallowed at the seductive appraisal she was giving his body. “Ah, um…” Curse the woman for taking away his defenses. Trapped in this realm, he felt naked, exposed, unable to hide. His confidence, so strongly tied to his ability to simply twist to another realm when it pleased him, was draining out through his feet, leaving his heart hammering against his ribs like an anvil of the gods.
The Fury raised an eyebrow as she watched him over crossed arms, tapping her fingers on her biceps as she waited. “You want me to do it for you, then?”
“Ahhhh, ummmm,” ‘Aqrab swallowed, hard. The thought of her having access to the tender parts of him, without having the option of twisting away, should she become unpleasant, was leaving him with an odd dual-rush of excitement and adrenaline. Once again, he was experiencing that uncanny feeling that his wildest dreams were quickly shaping into his worst nightmares.
The wolf sighed and uncrossed her arms and started towards him. “I suppose I’ll simply have to rip it off. It’s not like you have a limited supply…”
“Wait!” ‘Aqrab cried, holding up a panicked hand between them, the dimensional anchor flickering like an ethereal golden vambrace around his forearm. “Oh Goddess, please, uh…” He swallowed, hard, unnerved at how dry his throat was. Lowering his arm slowly—because both of them knew he wasn’t going to stop her—he managed, “Ah, mon Dhi’b, what are you going to do?”
She gave him a lazy, sultry smile. “Whatever I feel like.”
The whole situation seemed naggingly familiar, but before ‘Aqrab had a chance to consider that, she let out a low, feral growl and closed the distance. A moment later, she snagged his sirwal in a fist and tore it from his body with the startling sound of rending silk, leaving him with the sudden, icy tingle of goosebumps. He gave a nervous laugh, his hands and back pressed tight against the rock behind him, inescapably faced with the horrible fact that he could no more slip realms to avoid her than he could sink his spine through the stone wall pinning him in place.
Obviously enjoying herself, the magus stood back and grinned, perusing him at her leisure. If anything, her attention made the pressure in his groin a thousand times more acute, and ‘Aqrab found himself struggling against a mingled tide of panic and anticipation. He started inching sideways again, unable to stand still under her scrutiny.
The wolf leaned forward, put a single, slender arm against the wall between him and the door, and looked up into his eyes, so close that he could feel her cool body against his abdomen. “Going somewhere, djinni?”
“No mistress,” he blurted.
She hesitated, looking up at him, and ‘Aqrab’s heart started to hammer at the slow grin that spread across her face. “Mistress, eh?” she said, dropping her eyes to his chest, smiling, her voice a seductive purr. “I could get used to that.” She reached up with the hand not blocking his passage and traced a finger up his torso, hovering around a nipple.
‘Aqrab groaned with the shudder that followed. “Please,” he whimpered, fisting his hands against the stone behind him. The fact that there was no escape was driving him utterly over the edge, leaving his heart racing wildly, his breath coming in ragged pants.
“Please what, djinni?” she asked, languidly tracing his chest with the pad of her finger.
“I…um…uh…” He was having trouble concentrating with the way her finger was looping across his skin in cool, silken swirls. “I believe our bargain was to—” Then she got up on her tiptoes and put her mouth to his nipple and all the words h
e had prepared fled in a scattered wash of sand to the wind, leaving him nothing but air in his throat as his body shuddered against the rock.
She chuckled at him, deep and husky, and started her hand in a downward descent, following the sensitive lines of his stomach. “You’re going to have to be more specific, ‘Aqrab. I can’t understand your mumbling.”
He moaned as she touched his navel and slid around it, circling. “Not…” he whimpered, “…fair.”
“Who said,” she purred against his areola, “anything about playing fair?”
‘Aqrab trembled, riding that delightful, teetering brink between pleasure and anxious, heart-pounding risk, when he felt her hand slide through the hair of his groin and wrap around his shaft. He froze when her feminine fingers touched its length, which, he realized, was the wrong thing to do.
Betrayed by his body, Kaashifah gave a slight frown and glanced down.
Oh Goddess, he thought, horrified, please don’t let her—
“So,” she asked, shifting her attention to the throbbing flesh. “Is this as big as it gets?”
“Pretty much,” he said in a strangled sound.
“Is it ticklish?” she asked, tracing her fingers upon it.
‘Aqrab’s eyes rolled back into his head at the wave of pleasure. “Ah, um,” he gasped, his knees trembling, “it’s very sensitive.”
“Sensitive.” She grinned and stroked it again, feather-light, her smile widening at his sudden intake of breath. “Is that another word for ticklish, djinni?” She pulled her other hand from the wall and slipped it under his balls to cup them against his body, her cool skin eliciting a frenzy of sensations within him.
“Not,” he gasped under her ministrations, fighting that rising passion within him before she got a chance to see what she was doing to him, “exactly.”
“Oh?” she asked, boldly sliding her hand down his shaft. She had a sly grin on her face. “What is it, then?”
“Pleasurable,” he whimpered, his whole body shuddering under movement of her tiny hands.
For a moment, the Fury hesitated, a tiny frown on her face as she peered down at his manhood, obviously having expected some other response. Then, in complete, clear-faced innocence, she looked up at him and said, “You mean, if I…play…with this, I will be able to make your body contort around you as you did mine?” She hefted his shaft and nuts curiously.
“Ahhhh,” ‘Aqrab said, trying to find a way to weave his way out of this particular pitfall. “There will probably be some contortions if you continue, yes.”
For several heartbeats, it looked as if she would drop his sensitives with all the regard of a rotting viper. Then, a slow, wicked look spread across her face and ‘Aqrab felt his heart stop. “You’re going to show me how to do that to you,” she said, tightening her fingers on his shaft, almost in a threat. Her grin filled with evil glee, she looked back up at him and said in a low, husky tone, “And then I’m going to make you beg me to stop.”
‘Aqrab’s mouth fell open, his blood burning like hellfire in his veins. Transfixed by her intensity, trying not to babble in mingled elation and anxiety at the cool feel of his mistress’s tiny hand around his member, he managed, “Ah...but the bargain…”
She gave him a sultry look through her lashes, a smile playing on her lips. “Burn the bargain. You’re mine tonight, djinni.”
The force of her words, combined with the feel of her powerful hands around his delicates, left him feeling so thoroughly claimed that the risk involved suddenly sparked that adrenaline rush of flirting with danger, that heart-pounding thrill that djinni simply could not live without. All he could say was, “Yes, mistress.”
“Now,” she said, her voice a seductive purr, “What do I do?”
Shuddering at the way her cool hands slipped across his skin, he tilted his head back against the stone and whispered, “It’s…simple…to give a man pleasure, mon Dhi’b. You run your hands down his…length…in a rhythm. Aside from that…” his breath snagged in his throat as she immediately began doing as he suggested, and the rest of his words came out in a strangled, “you’ll have to experiment.”
“Like this?” she asked, gripping him and sliding her fist along his shaft.
“Just,” he managed, finding it hard to breathe. The throbbing in his loins was building, superheating his skin, making the contrast in her cool fingers all that much harder to ignore.
She giggled. “You’re getting hot.”
‘Aqrab groaned, tightening his hands into fists under her ministrations, grinding the dimension-anchors into the wall behind him as the heat began to rise into an uncontrollable, searing wave, bringing him dangerously close to the brink. “Please, mon Dhi’b,” he gasped. “It’s been too long. I don’t have the stamina…”
She grinned up at him, slowing her rhythm to more manageable proportions. “Mercy?”
“Mercy!” he begged in relief, knowing he was about to produce a problem to which the wolf might take offense.
But a demonic smile played upon her face. “I don’t think so.” And she renewed her efforts with even more vigor.
Realizing he was being given no choice in the matter tipped ‘Aqrab completely over the edge. Crying out, he reflexively reached out and fisted his hands on her shoulders as his back arced, digging his shoulders into the stone. Even as he struggled to keep himself in check, he felt his hips thrust of their own accord, and heard the magus’s startled gasp.
Oh Goddess, he thought, after spasm upon spasm of that ancient, long-missed delight flooded his system, heating his blood, tightening his balls, bringing sweet release in the bounty of her hands, she is going to kill me.
When he regained enough control to open his eyes again and glance down at the magus, she was looking at her shirt. “‘Aqrab,” she said, all-too-carefully, “what is that?”
‘Aqrab coughed, feeling his face flushing even over the frantic pounding of his heart. “That looks like my seed, mon Dhi’b.” It wasn’t just on her shirt, either. Wincing, he noticed it in…other…places, namely her hair.
“Your…seed.” Ominously, she still kept a death-grip on his delicates.
‘Aqrab started to ease to the side, but her hold remained firm. “Ah,” he said embarrassedly, when it became apparent he was not going anywhere. “Did I not warn you about that?”
“No,” she bit out. “You did not.”
Clearing his throat again, he said, “Well, ah, I suppose I could offer you the small boon of cleaning you up, since it was my mistake.”
“You would be wise to do that. Now.”
‘Aqrab hid a grin. “As you command, mon Dhi’b.” Then, embracing that dance-of-risk that was so addicting to a djinni, he harnessed the power of the Fourth Realm and removed the stains he had created…along with her clothes. Her clothes were, after all, utterly filthy.
Instantly, the Fury’s grip on him tightened. Very evenly, she said, “What do you think you’re doing, ‘Aqrab?”
“Your clothes were filthy, mon Dhi’b,” he said, with all the innocence he could muster. “I was merely fulfilling your request.”
Staring at his belly-button, her grip on him like iron, she growled, “Bring me back my clothes.”
He crossed his arms and peered down at her over them. “I burned them.” She had ripped apart his sirwal, so it was only fair. He’d liked that one. He’d gotten the color just right.
Very slowly, his magus lifted her gaze to his face, and the yellow glow in her eyes yet again sparked within him that reckless inner thrill of playing with fire. Utterly evenly, she said, “You burned them.”
“I did,” ‘Aqrab said. “I figured if I was to be naked during tonight’s entertainment, you may as well share the experience. Further…” He uncrossed his arms, “Since fondling my delicates wasn’t part of our agreement, I think perhaps there might be more to the experience you may need to share with me.”
“… I think perhaps there might be more to the experience you may need to share with m
e.” ‘Aqrab’s voice was like a low rumble in his chest, the sound of a ravenous leopard.
More to the experience…? Kaashifah thought, in alarm. Oh no, he can’t mean… But, looking up into his intense violet eyes, she knew that he did. As ‘Aqrab raised his hand to her face, Kaashifah felt a stab of panic, but had the presence of mind to tighten her grip. “That,” she growled in warning, “is not going to happen.”
“Oh?” He gently traced a hot finger across her cheek. Kaashifah shuddered under the rush of sensation from the touch, but held firm. When she did not relent, he grinned and began idly tracing his thumb across her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone. Her heart began thundering in her ears at the feel of his gentle touch, so intimate, so tender, so wonderful…
“Mercy,” she whispered, dropping him and backing away. Biting her lip, she met his eyes, which were watching her much too closely.
“You like my touch,” he commented, sounding surprised.
Kaashifah quickly found something else to look at. Her gaze caught on the winds blasting across the mountain outside, flinging snow across the entrance to the cave, burying their tracks. She winced, thinking about how uncomfortable it was going to be marching across the snow without protection. Unlike the djinni, she did not have an inner fire to keep her warm, and her shields were already straining her resources. “Gods,” she muttered. “Did you have to burn my—”
But the djinni stepped forward, with speed and intent, and just as she was frowning, turning to face him, he ducked his head down, wrapped his arms around her, and swept her up in a kiss.
Feeling his hot body enveloping her, Kaashifah’s first instinct was to knee him in the groin, punch him in the solar plexus, and then stomp a heel into his throat until his head came off.
Her second instinct, once the first passed in a moment of absolute rigidity, was deeper, more carnal. She groaned and felt every inch of her exposed skin as if it were electrified, felt the press of her breasts against his rippling torso, felt his big hands at the small of her back. Given no other alternative in the delicious prison of his big arms, she melted under his tender kiss, her body molding to fit his of its own accord.
