by Opal Carew
Mastered by the Genie
Opal Carew
Mastered by the Genie isn’t your typical Aladdin story. Zurvan, the powerful male genie, has no intention of being mastered by anyone, let alone a female—no matter how sexy she is.
This is a story with steaming hot sex, but also a story of enduring love. Fall under the spell of…
Mastered by the Genie!
This is just one of the Mastered By series
Played by the Master
Mastered by the Boss
Mastered by my Guardian
Mastered by the CEO
Mastered by her Captor
Mastered by the Sheikh
Mastered by the Genie
Praise for Mastered by the Genie
5 Delightful Divas!
"I've seen Opal Carew's books in the book store, but I've never read any until now. […] the summary sounded interesting so I decided to give [Mastered by the Genie] a try. […] I wish I would have known what I'd been missing sooner! [It] is a creative, really fun read.
This story is erotic and explicit throughout […], but Ms. Carew makes it work in a perfect manner. I wouldn't want it any other way. […] I thoroughly enjoyed this story. This is NOT your average genie story.
I loved the ending as it's quite funny and surprising at the same time. I highly recommend [Mastered by the Genie] by Opal Carew and I will absolutely be reading more from her! "
Shelly, Dark Diva Reviews
4 Stars!
“… a highly original short story that [will] leave you hot and bothered and make you think about what love truly is. And no, the extremely hot and wonderful sex wasn't part of the wishes. It was freely given by Zurvan who ached for Celeste, having gone without a woman for three thousand years. And in the process, they discovered something wonderful about each other, something that I couldn't say because it would be a spoiler.
All I can say is that love makes everything worth it, whatever the outcome, and the end came with a twist that would make you smile."
The Raving Readers
4+ Stars!
"This is a short quirky story that plays on the genie and three wishes theme. However, it’s also more than that. It’s erotic and romantic as well as mysterious. [...] I enjoyed this fun story and was pleasantly surprised at the ending. In many ways this story stepped out of the norm and looked at things from outside the box making it unique and refreshing."
Night Owl Reviews
4+ Stars!
"...complex story of betrayal and eternal love... erotically enticing... red-hot sex..."
Teagan S. Boyd, Book Wenches
Patreon.com/OpalCarew
Mastered by the Genie
Opal Carew
Mastered by the Genie
Copyright 2021 Opal Carew
Formerly released as Crystal Genie
All Rights Are Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First edition: January 2021
www.OpalCarew.com
To my husband
Mark
With love
Chapter 1
It had been calling to her all day.
Celeste carefully unwrapped the tissue, revealing the clear quartz crystal she’d bought that afternoon at Crystal Dreams. Reverently, she picked it up and stared into its liquid depths. She felt as if she’d found a long-lost treasure. More than that, she had the profound feeling that this stone had the power to change her life.
A beautiful imperfection inside obscured the clarity, but as she held the crystal up to the light, a rainbow of iridescent flecks glittered in its depths.
A powerful feeling unsettled her. As she cradled the crystal in her hand, warmth emanated from it and it seemed to pulse with life. She stared deeper into the crystal, mesmerized.
The sound of the telephone snapped her back to reality. She snatched the phone from the end table beside her.
“Hello?”
“Celeste, you’re single and home on a Friday night? Pretty lame, Sis.”
Celeste slumped back on the couch and drummed her fingers on the table.
“What happened to ‘Hi, Celeste. How’s it going?’” she asked.
“It’s obvious how it’s going. You know, with your looks you could get any guy you want, yet here you are on a Friday night with no date.” Concern laced her sister Helen’s words, softening Celeste’s building irritation. “You have a great body and a lovely face, but you insist on wearing your hair pink and spiky.”
“It’s not pink. It’s violet with magenta streaks.”
“You know, if you’d let your hair go back to its natural blonde and grow it long, you’d have to beat them off with a stick.”
Celeste shrugged. “If a guy doesn’t accept me for who I am—”
Helen snorted. “Yeah, right. If Mr. Perfect walked into your life right now, you wouldn’t even give him a chance.”
Celeste glared at the phone, annoyance sparking inside her.
“Well, that’ll never happen, Helen, because Mr. Perfect doesn’t exist.” She gulped a sip of her root beer. “Look, is there a reason you called, other than to badger me about not having a man?”
At the silence on the other end of the phone, Celeste felt her insides tighten.
“Well, I called to tell you… I’ve left George.”
Celeste’s heart compressed. Again. She couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry to hear it. Her sister had left her husband twice before, and Celeste hoped it was for good this time.
“I’ll be staying at Mum’s for a while. I’ll be going to the lake with her and Graham this weekend to help them open the cottage. I’ll talk to you next week.”
“Okay. Take care.”
Celeste placed the phone on the table, then slumped back on the couch. Helen deserved better than that bum George. As far as Celeste knew, he’d never hit her sister, but his verbal abuse made Celeste sick.
Ain’t love grand.
Of course, Helen chose to stay with Mum rather than Celeste because Mum would talk her into going back. Apparently, it didn’t matter how bad the guy was or how unhappy he made you, if you loved him you couldn’t leave. Or so their mother claimed.
Celeste, on the other hand, would help Helen see reason. Which, of course, is why she doesn’t come here.
She reached for her crystal again and held it up to the light, staring at the subtle, glittering rainbow inside. Fingerprints marred the view, so she rubbed the crystal on the soft wool of her sweater to polish the surface.
Again, the crystal seemed to pulse in her hand. The air felt thicker around it, like a fuzzy, charged force-field. A quiver trembled up her arm and through her body. She plunked the crystal onto the coffee table, eyeing it uncertainly. A rumble, like thunder in the distance, accompanied a crackling sound. The air seemed electrified and a slight smell of ozone tickled her nose. Corners of papers on her maple side table stirred, then fluttered as air swirled through the room. Growing uneasiness quivered through her.
What in heaven’s name was going on?
The rumbling increased and a sharp clap accompanied by a brilliant flash sent her heart rate accelerating as she shielded her eyes with her hand. Good heavens, had lightning struck?
Slowly, she lowered her hand to pe
er at the crystal. It sat quietly on the table amidst the papers still fluttering in the inexplicable breeze.
“I am Zurvan, genie of the crystal.”
The deep, baritone voice ripped her gaze three feet to the right, to rest on a tall man wearing emerald green. A shirt in a satiny fabric under a vest intricately embroidered with gold thread and tiny beads, and long, flowing pants billowing in the gusty air. Her eyes widened, and she tried to calm her quivering nerves with a long, deep breath.
He stood before her, arms crossed over his chest, looking like some ancient god. Long hair, glossy black, swirled around him. His face was like handsomely sculpted granite, strong and hard, but starkly sensual. Full lips blended into a strong chin.
She blinked, but the apparition remained. Genie of the crystal? The guy looked like something straight out of the Arabian Nights. Like a very sexy version of Aladdin’s genie. And he seemed vaguely familiar, like a hazy image from a dream. Her gaze shifted back to his lips. Sexy. Inviting. Lips she’d love to kiss.
His dark green eyes, the color of moss in the shadowed depths of a forest, locked onto her. His eyebrows lowered like dark storm clouds.
“A woman!” His enraged voice rumbled through the room.
Suddenly he started growing, his height increasing several inches per second. She felt faint as her head tilted back, watching him rise above her. Ten feet. Twenty. Thirty. Somehow, her ceiling expanded upward to follow him. He glared down at her, green eyes blazing.
His huge hand swept toward her, and his fingers wrapped snugly around her from her waist to mid-thigh with his thumb under her breasts. Her heart thumped wildly as he swept her into the air.
“What are you doing? Let me go!” She struggled, then clung to his thumb as disorientation skewed her sense of balance.
Her breath caught and her heartbeat accelerated. This had suddenly gotten very scary. She felt as though she were falling and everything went black, though she remained conscious. Light reappeared, but she was no longer in her living room. She tried to catch her breath. It was difficult to focus on her surroundings, but she got the impression of elegant draperies, rich carpets, and plush cushions in satins and velvet, all in bright jewel tones.
The giant set her down on her feet. When he let go, she started to topple over, but a strong, firm arm grasped her waist.
Her half-closed lids jolted open. The giant now stood beside her, normal size again, if six-and-a-half feet counted as normal. It was his arm steadying her. She jerked away from him, sucked in a breath, and thrust back her shoulders.
“Who are you and why are you here?” she demanded.
He stepped away from her, giving her room to breathe.
“I am a genie. I am here to grant you three wishes.”
Oh, God. She started to sway.
He cursed in some foreign language before guiding her to a soft-looking couch a few feet away. She sank onto the cushions.
He surveyed her critically, then lifted a lock of her hair between two fingers to examine it.
“Your hair is a strange color.”
He fluttered his fingers and Celeste jumped as she felt hair slither down her cheeks and neck. She glanced down to see long, blonde waves hanging to her waist.
“And your clothes.”
“What’s the matter with my—Yikes.”
Goosebumps quivered along the naked flesh of her arms, chest and midriff as her warm, comfortable sweater disappeared, replaced by some silky little bit of nothing.
“Hey, where are my clothes?”
She glanced down at herself, examining the slinky little harem number she now wore. Her breasts, pushed together and up, spilled out over the snug, brief, purple velvet bejeweled bra that had appeared out of nowhere. A matching scrap of velvet hugged her hips. Silky, sheer, iridescent fabric swirled around her legs.
Anger welled within her. No one—thirty-foot bully or otherwise—got away with redefining her looks. She glanced up and found herself unnerved by his steady gaze. Smoldering embers of passion singed her nerve-endings as they forged a path the length of her. Yet something about that erotic gaze tickled her memory.
Her face felt hot and she knew her cheeks must be flushed. She pulled back her shoulders and straightened her spine, chasing away the lingering cinders of doubt.
I will not be manipulated.
Chapter 2
Zurvan watched the young woman and the emotions coloring her features.
She was magnificent with her tall, lithe body and long golden waves of hair. He did not know why she had dyed those beautiful locks that dreadful purple color and hacked it up in that ragged mess it had been before he fixed it. His body tightened as his gaze fell on the swell of her breasts, and he forced his gaze upwards to her face. With her cheeks stained crimson and her eyes blazing, she surpassed Atia herself in beauty.
But beneath the confident stance, he sensed her uneasiness. She was afraid of him.
He felt a lead weight deep in his belly. Why wouldn’t she be? He shouldn’t have directed his rage at her. Atia was the one who had imprisoned him, who had destroyed his life, making him little more than a slave. She was the one he hated, not this innocent young woman. It was Atia who had kept him imprisoned in her palace, forcing him to submit to her sexual whims, not this woman.
“Look, Ali Baba.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. “I want you to stop this right now,” she demanded.
“Stop what?” He kept his voice mild and non-threatening.
She glared at him and began counting her verbal points on her fingers.
“Stop controlling me. Stop intimidating me. And…” She seemed to struggle for words. “Stop acting like a jerk.”
He remembered all too clearly what it had been like to be dominated by someone with more power. The experience had torn away his dignity. It had left him outraged. That was why he had struck out at her, the first female mistress he had encountered since Atia imprisoned him in the stone. But this woman did not have the power of the Djinn. He had to remember that.
Just like a bully, he had frightened her, yet she did not quiver like a child. She held her head high, ready to fight back, even though it must be clear to her she had little chance of winning.
Here she stood, alone, facing a power she must know far outstripped anything she had ever encountered. Her loneliness and fear seeped through his awareness. As she watched him with eyes the blue of lapis lazuli, golden speckles glittering in their depths, he longed to hold her and murmur reassuring words. And yet he knew she would not welcome his touch.
She was right. He had been a jerk. He had never heard the word, but knowledge of colloquialisms was part of the magic. He bowed his head. “Your wish is my command.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It is? Just like that?”
“You made me realize my anger is for the one who imprisoned me, but I directed it at you, and for that I ask your forgiveness.”
“Oh.”
In only minutes, Celeste’s whole world had turned topsy-turvy. She couldn’t even think straight, so she paced and wrung her hands.
“If you’re a genie, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. Scaring me half to death like that. Changing how I look.” She ran her hand along her hair. “I thought you were supposed to grant my wishes, not your own.”
He bowed his head. “Again, I ask your forgiveness.”
“You really are a genie?”
“Yes. I am Zurvan, genie of the crystal.”
This was insane. If she hadn’t seen him grow to the size of a giant, hadn’t experienced what could only be explained by magic, she would have thought him crazy. But he must be what he claimed. It was the only thing that made sense… unless she was dreaming.
“This is not a dream,” Zurvan said.
She glared at him. How did he know what she’d been thinking?
“So I get three wishes? Anything I want?”
“Anything within my power. And you must make all three wishes within three days, or the wishes are for
feit.”
“And you must do anything I say?”
The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. The effect was like a feather stroking her insides.
“No, I didn’t say that. I must grant your wishes, but other than that, my actions are my own.”
He stared at her with probing, green eyes.
“You have not told me if you will grant your forgiveness,” he reminded her.
She glanced away as adrenaline rushed through her. The devastating effect of his engaging smile and sensitive manner, especially in contrast to the fire-demon he’d been only a few moments earlier, totally unnerved her.
She sucked in a deep breath to collect herself. “I guess so.”
He was watching her. She felt it. A gentle something—like the electricity she’d felt earlier—coaxed her gaze upward. His eyes, dark and smoky, focused on hers. She tilted up her chin and, this time, met his gaze.
Oh, man, this guy was way too sexy for her own good. She drew in a deep breath, then another, to calm the cascade of hormones swirling through her body.
He took a step toward her and she stepped back.
He halted. “Will you grant me a wish?”
She shook her head, perplexed. “I don’t understand. I’m not magic.”
“Oh, you do have magic. The magic every beautiful woman has over a man. And I have been long without a woman.”
His hot gaze trailed over her scantily clad form. The message in his eyes was starkly sexual. Her gaze locked onto his as cravings too long suppressed catapulted to the surface. His captivating smile lit up his handsome face. Heat flooded through her body as she thought of those full, sexy lips capturing hers, of his hands caressing her curves.
