Zarina and the Djinn

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Zarina and the Djinn Page 11

by Vivienne Savage


  Tonight. Tonight would be their night.

  She sat down to read again, but a knock on her door sent her scrambling to hide the book and glass dildo. “Hold on a moment,” she called out as she slipped the box under a floorboard she had pried up the day before. She threw the rug back down over the spot and then opened the door. Kazim looked down at her from his lofty height with a concerned look on his face.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course it is. I was getting dressed.”

  “Ah.” He looked her up and down while pursing his lips in a familiar way. She knew her brother too well not to recognize when he had something on his mind.

  “Out with it, Kazim.”

  “Are you going out again tonight?” he asked.

  She hesitated, reluctant to lie. “I am.”

  “With your sorcerer?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin and waited for him to argue. Instead, her brother’s shoulders slumped, and he took her hands between his calloused palms.

  “Be careful, Zarina. That’s all I ask.”

  She blinked. “You’re not going to put your foot down and tell me not to go?”

  Kazim smiled and shook his head. “No. It’s not my place, but I do mean what I said. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Joaidane would never hurt me.”

  “Then why hasn’t he requested to court you? Several months have passed since this first began, and it’s clearly more than a mere friendship. Why haven’t you brought him home to meet Father or me?”

  “Father? Really?”

  Her brother squeezed her fingers. “He is a mess, I know, but he is still our father, and if this man had any honor, he would do things the right way and present himself to the family.”

  “I asked him not to,” she admitted. Her startled brother blinked and drew in a sharp breath, so she pressed on before he could speak. “He offered to meet you the evening we were robbed, but you were in pain. I dissuaded him, Kazim. Joaidane is an honorable man. More honorable than you know.”

  “And since then?”

  “I…” The words left her in a rush. “Father is an embarrassment. He would ask Joaidane about his wealth and status, because that is all he cares about now.”

  “Or he’d ask him for money,” Kazim muttered.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “I know you worry, but you don’t have to. My honor is intact. Nothing bad is happening between us. We ride his dunestrider.” Her brother’s eyes grew large. “Yes, he has a dunestrider, Kazim, and he is the most gorgeous creature in the world. We ride and we talk until hours before sunrise. He tells me about the world and shares beautiful stories with me. When I’m beside him at night, I feel as if I’ve traveled far away from Naruk and seen distant lands. Beautiful lands.”

  A long moment of silence passed between them before Kazim’s breath finally whispered from him. His shoulders dropped, and he tucked his chin. “And the weeks he is gone you miss him.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I do. I love him very much, and I can only hope he feels the same way. No, I believe he does.”

  Her brother wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. “Then enjoy your ride tonight, little sister. Be careful, that’s all I ask. And know that if this stranger does ask for your hand, I want you to have nothing but happiness with him.”

  Zarina kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Don’t wait up. I promise I’ll be home as I always am, safe and whole.”

  With her brother appeased, she hurried to gather her clothes for the evening. The bathhouse wasn’t far, only a few blocks from their home, and she had enough daylight left to take advantage of its services.

  Once she was bathed, pampered, and dressed again, she paid an additional five copper pieces to have an attendant launder her dirty clothes and send them home by courier.

  Joaidane met her at the city outskirts as he always did with Mithran at his side. Her steps picked up speed the moment she saw him through the gates until she was dashing across the sand. He caught her in his arms and spun her around.

  “Excited?”

  “Always.”

  “Good. I have a special surprise for you tonight, but it’s a long ride. Longer than any of the others.”

  “Then take me away from here.”

  Sprouting wings and taking flight wouldn’t have been as exhilarating as riding Mithran. His silver hooves beat an effortless rhythm against sandy dunes, never tiring and never slowing. They followed the moon, venturing farther than ever before.

  After a time, they crossed from the sandy desert into a canyon with towering walls of red rock. Mithran slowed to a walk and pointed his ears high.

  “Where are we?” Zarina asked.

  “The Zenkahaar,” he replied. “Also known as the Crimson Maze.”

  “From Scheherazade’s stories?” Her voice squeaked upward.

  “The very same.”

  “But the legends say no one can navigate the twisting passages. That men wander in and get lost for a dozen years until the sand sylphs spirit them away.”

  Joaidane’s laughter tickled across her ear. “True, but we won’t get lost while Mithran guides us. Trust me.”

  She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him. “I do. Always.”

  Zarina lost track of all the twists and turns they made. Joaidane’s refusal to speak of their destination launched her excitement into magical levels. He’d given her a gift more precious than any tangible object. He’d given her one of her dreams and brought her to a place she had only read about.

  “Here we are.”

  Mithran entered a large gap in the chasm wall. For a short stretch, they rode in complete darkness, but with Joaidane’s arms around her and the hard muscle of his chest against her back, Zarina remained fearless. Farther down the tunnel, she made out a dim light, and when they rounded the gentle bend, she gasped.

  A sinkhole overhead allowed in the moonlight. The silver radiance glittered across the surface of a tranquil pool in the cavern’s center. Three palm trees grew in a cluster at one edge of the hidden spring, and flowers covered most of the ground.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “I had no idea places like this existed.”

  “There are many places like this across the desert,” Joaidane said as he helped her down from Mithran’s back. “You only have to know where to look.”

  “You found this?” He never ceased to amaze her.

  Joaidane shook his head. “No, I can’t take credit for this discovery. Mithran shared this one with me. He and the other dunestriders use it for water and shelter.”

  She knelt beside the crystal-clear spring and ran her hand through the cool water. “It really is like the old tales, except we didn’t need a magic word to get in. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I thought… this place would make a fitting but final parting gift to you.”

  Startled by his admission, Zarina jerked her hand from the pool and stood to face him. “Final?”

  “I’ll be leaving Naruk soon for good. I never intended to remain for long, but spending time with you has been…. It isn’t fair to you to continue this.”

  The words splashed her with ice water, and the warmth bestowed by their intimate ride drained away, leaving a numb sensation in the tips of her fingers and toes. Zarina licked her lips and blurted the first impulsive words to come to her mind. “Then I want to leave with you.”

  “Ah, my lovely desert rose, as much as the idea tempts me, it cannot be. You have family here who would worry for you.”

  “Then… if you won’t take me with you on your journey....” She bit her lower lip and tipped her chin down while untying the sash of her dress. “Will you take another gift instead? To remember me if you never return?”

  Tense, uncomfortable silence passed between them. Her father and even her brother had once warned her all men only cared about sex, but when offered her virginity on a silver platter, Joaidane hesitated.


  “Am I not attractive to you?”

  “You are. You are more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met.”

  She swallowed the tight sensation in her throat. “Now you’re exaggerating.”

  He tipped her chin upward and smoothed his thumb across her lower lip. “No. Your beauty lies within as well as out. Who else would comb an entire village seeking to feed the homeless? What other woman would throw aside her future for so long to help her brother? You are a rose among weeds, Zarina, and any man would be fortunate to have you.”

  Warmth rose from her neck and blossomed across her cheeks. “But no man will have me in this city, Joaidane. I have nothing to offer. Father spent my dowry…. I will remain an old maid forever.”

  “No. I do not see such a future for you.”

  “And you?” she asked. “Do you see yourself in my future?”

  “Your future deserves someone better than me.”

  “Why? Are you a killer? A murderer? A rapist?” she dared to ask. Something about Joaidane’s self-dismissal lit a fire in her and tossed kindling on the raging inferno. “Am I not able to make my own decisions about my life, my body?”

  “Zari—”

  “No. You will listen to me.” Burning with the confidence she’d lacked before, she cupped his face between both hands and stared into his eyes. “Only months ago we met, and in our short time together, you’ve shown me the kindness and respect my own father lacked for my mother. You saved our family business!”

  “I did what the city guard should have done.”

  “You did more.” Her fingers toyed with the dark hair at the nape of his neck, and then she rose to tiptoe and kissed him. The spicy, masculine taste of his lips set her senses ablaze with raw hunger. “You’ve brought me to this beautiful place and told me stories of cities and faraway kingdoms I will never see. Even if you never return to my life again, this is what I want.”

  His eyes brimmed with emotion. She’d always thought he appeared melancholy, though she could never bring herself to ask what had happened in his past before visiting Naruk. Why did such a sweet young man spend his life traveling across the sands from village to village? He swallowed heavily and parted his lips to speak, only to close them again and remain silent.

  She had to ask. Had to know.

  “Why do you push me away when I know you desire me as much as I want you?” The proof of his interest lay below his sash, his arousal so hard against her lower tummy, she felt every individual pulse and twitch.

  “I’m cursed,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Though I’ve never murdered or harmed anyone intentionally, I was once an awful man.”

  “Cursed?”

  “I can say no more than what I’ve told you.”

  Zarina had never met anyone under a curse before, fairy, jinn, or otherwise, and as preposterous as the idea sounded at first, studying his tortured gaze confirmed it wasn’t a ploy.

  “What would happen if you told me more?”

  “I would die.”

  In three words, he ripped the heart from her chest. “No!”

  “Then understand when I say I want more than anything to remain with you. You are the first shining point of happiness I’ve encountered in years, Zarina, but I don’t believe there can ever be more.”

  She nibbled her lower lip and glanced down, an idea on her mind.

  “Ruining your reputation also isn’t one of my plans. One day, you’ll find someone worthy of you, and you’ll thank me for turning you away.”

  Despite his words, a low, animal groan parted his lips when she breached the waist of his loose trousers with her fingers. Once his hot, living flesh filled her hand, she couldn’t imagine letting him go. Joaidane was better than any glass dildo. He was alive and real, able to respond to her touches.

  And he didn’t withdraw or cast her aside. Didn’t push her back.

  “What reputation? Women in the city have already seen me with you at night.” Tipping her face up placed her in the ideal position to kiss his cheek. She nibbled his jaw and savored the taste of his skin. “I am already hopelessly ruined.”

  “I…”

  “This is my choice. My wish.” Her fingers danced down his impressive length. “Make love to me, if only for tonight.”

  Another growl rumbled in his chest. When he grabbed her hand from his pants, she tensed, expecting another rejection. Instead, he dragged her against his chest and kissed her with an unexpected fierceness. His tongue slid past her parted lips and swept through her mouth, the intimate exploration stoking a fire between her thighs. Heat curled in her stomach, and the warmth spread to every extremity.

  Nothing in Amira’s book had prepared her for the way he plundered her mouth. Her surprise gave way at first to surrender, and then she returned his kiss with matching hunger. Their tongues danced and curled against one another until the need for air forced them apart.

  “I need to see you,” he groaned. In the moonlight, his amber eyes glinted as if they were aflame, full of passion and promise. Zarina reached for her loosened sash until he stilled her hands. “No. Let me.”

  Once her sash fluttered to the ground, a loose overdress remained over her scarlet sheath. Both halves of it fell open without restraint, allowing him to push it back from her shoulders.

  The cooler night air kissed her bare arms. No man had ever undressed her before, and for some strange reason she couldn’t understand, she wanted Joaidane to be the last. His touch ran electric sparks down her skin, raising goose bumps over her arms.

  A few corset laces held the sheath around her body, but after he plucked them loose, the entire garment tumbled to her ankles.

  His eyes drank her in, from her long legs to the gossamer-thin undergarments she’d purchased on a whim with the little bit of coin she’d held back from her father. They clung low on her hips, sapphire blue contrasting the scarlet she’d donned for their night.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  When Zarina pushed and tugged his tunic, Joaidane caught her by the wrists and kissed the knuckles of her left hand, one finger at a time. “Eager?”

  “Yes.” At some point, she’d worried she would die a virgin, never knowing the physical pleasure she’d been denied on account of being a poor woman in a middle-class life.

  He released her hands and stripped away his tunic, baring an upper torso chiseled with lean muscle. Her palms smoothed over the firm expanse, caressed his smooth pectorals, and stroked flawless, golden-brown skin.

  Hers. From this moment forward, she would accept nothing less. She would not accept his graceful exit from her life.

  She plucked the knot of his sash, loosened, it, and shoved desperately until black fabric pooled around his ankles and his male length sprang free. Hard, throbbing flesh filled her hand. Joaidane groaned.

  “Satisfied?”

  Zarina tilted her face up to gaze into his half-lidded features. “Not yet.” She pumped him twice, testing what she’d learned in her book and leaning back to watch his face contort with pleasure. She traced the sinewy length of him, then crested the sensitive tip. He felt smooth as satin within her grip.

  He laid her against the flower-studded grass and started a path of kisses at her hip, moving up over her ribcage to her breasts. When he took one dusky tip into his mouth, her eyes went wide. Her fingers tangled in his long hair, the urge to tug him up to her mouth warring with the desire to experience more of the pleasure his kisses brought.

  He teased one nipple to a stiff, aching peak, then lavished the other with the same diligent attention. She expected the upward path to continue, but Joaidane moved down her body until his teeth grazed her hipbone and his lips traced to her thigh. He tugged her sheer panties down her legs with one hand.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “One sweet taste,” he told her in a quiet promise. “The one taste I’ve craved since the moment we met.”

  Joaidane’s head dipped between her thighs as his fingers parted her dewy f
lesh. The first teasing graze from his lips elicited a quiet gasp. He suckled her swollen pearl and buried his fingers to the knuckle within her body’s tight embrace.

  Zarina arched against the grass and buried her toes into the earth.

  “When I finish with you, there won’t be one inch of your body I haven’t touched,” he murmured against the inside of her thigh. And then his tongue danced against her folds, tracing shapes she lacked the mental fortitude to envision. Shuddering again from the tension building in her core, Zarina ran her fingers over her nipples to alleviate the tight pucker.

  “Jo-Joaidane, I-I-I can’t. I can’t anymore.”

  “You can.”

  He led her through the first orgasm with the care and generosity of an experienced lover. Zarina’s entire body trembled, wave after shimmering wave rolling through her in time with her quickened heartbeat. His slick fingers slid free, and then the blunt, rounded tip of his arousal pressed against her slick entrance. He claimed her with one stroke. While riding the pleasurable high, the momentary discomfort of penetration—her body stretching to accommodate him—barely registered in her mind.

  Her lover was bliss incarnate, a rapture beyond any childish expectation she’d fantasized in her wildest dreams.

  “Joaidane!” she gasped. Her fingers curled against his shoulders.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he coaxed while guiding one thigh over his hip.

  The next thrust inched her upward across the grass. Every stroke brought her closer to paradise, each one more heavenly than the last. Zarina marveled at his strength, every lean and muscled line highlighted silver by the full moon above them.

  The next deep-seated stroke rubbed against her sensitive places, inside and out. She moaned his name again. Pleasure built like an inferno, as fierce as a desert storm, and Joaidane’s wild pace never faltered. Beneath her fingers, his back grew damp and his muscles bunched. Their breaths mingled, then became one as she claimed his mouth for another kiss.

  “Mine,” he groaned against her lips. “My Zarina. My desert rose.”

  A spark zipped through her body, and the words branded themselves into her heart.

 

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