Her heart slammed against her chest, but she continued on, even though she desperately wanted to flee him. The feelings he brought out in her made her squirm, and she didn’t like the fact that if Yasir hadn’t interrupted them previously, more than mere banter would have been exchanged.
“It is good to see you out and about!” Siraj said jovially, bowing to her as he approached. “The gold of my caravan gleams richly against your bronzed skin.”
His compliment had her fidgeting with her robes. “Th-thank you,” she managed to say.
After a few moments of silence, Siraj cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if what I said to you earlier has made you uncomfortable.”
“Do not worry,” she said, glancing at him through her lashes. Once her eyes clashed with his, she had to look away. She didn’t wish to read any more of his erotic thoughts, they were much too scandalous. “I appreciate your honesty, Jackal. It just…caught me off guard.”
“I have something to confess,” he said after another short silence.
“Oh? And what is that?” Good. Her voice didn’t waver.
“All those years ago, after I was healed, I cried when you left me.”
Yasmin stumbled at his words before once again finding her footing. He nodded at her look of shock.
“I have been thinking more and more about that time out there in the dunes when we first met,” he continued. “Something happened to me after you pushed your magic into my body. I didn’t feel it then, but I remember it now. As if…”
“What?” she whispered, almost too afraid to ask.
“It is silly,” he replied, running his fingers through his hair. Yasmin tried hard not to stare at the gesture. His hair was a glorious shade of dark brown, looking as soft as it was thick. Her own fingers itched to do the same.
“Tell me.”
Siraj took a deep breath. “When you healed me, did you feel anything leave you? A rush of…something?”
“Well, yes, my magic. I had to heal your wound.”
“Beyond that,” he said, giving her a sideways glance.
Yasmin bit her lip in an effort to remember. She’d been only twelve. But her encounter with Siraj in the sand might as well have been seared onto her brain.
“I held your hand. Told you to think good thoughts.”
Siraj smiled, but continued gazing at his feet as he walked with his hands behind his back. “All I thought about was your eyes.”
She gasped. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
Once again, his gaze caught hers. This time, she was hard-pressed to breathe, much less look away. “I…do remember something, a tugging. But not on my body.”
“On your soul?” he offered.
She nodded.
“I felt it, too,” he confessed. “I think you did more than heal me. I think you gave me a piece of yourself. Or at least, of your magic.”
Yasmin stared at him for almost a full minute. “Why do you say that?” she asked, breathless.
“Because every time I’m near you, I feel connected to you. Like I know you. Like I’ve always known you. And even in these past years, I did nothing but think about you. Every day. That isn’t natural. I’ve never felt this way about any other person on Jikkar. Only you.”
Yasmin crossed her arms over her chest and shuddered. She glanced around them, but they walked apart from anyone else. No one was listening to their conversation.
“Do you feel it, too?” His deep voice rolled over her like the hot desert wind. Gods, but her nipples hardened at the sound of it.
“I…think so,” she said, unable to hold his eye contact. “Back in your carav, earlier, I felt something. I can read most people’s thoughts, but your thoughts, I think I felt them.”
“What do you mean?”
He was going to make her say it. With a deep sigh, she decided to be as honest with him as he was with her. “I could feel your…your tongue.”
Siraj’s eyebrows shot up. “You felt that?”
Yasmin nodded. She turned her head and tried to step away from him. But his hand snaked out and pulled her even closer.
“Something left me when I showed you my thoughts,” he said, his voice in her ear. “Gods, Yasmin, have you given me a piece of your power?”
Before she could answer him, he’d stopped her in the sand.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded.
“Why?” she replied.
“Do it,” he said without explaining himself. Yasmin complied, trusting him and obeying his word as her prince seemed natural.
Within seconds, his hands were under her robes, caressing her breasts and bringing her nipples to painful nubs against his warm palms. She cried out at the sensation, aghast that he would fondle her so explicitly in front of his people. But upon opening her eyes in shocked indignation, she found he wasn’t touching her at all.
It had merely been the power of his thoughts.
“Gods,” she breathed.
The look on Siraj’s face was predatory. He’d suddenly gone from a flirting prince to a man who knew what he wanted. And Yasmin knew without reading him that he wanted her. That knowledge made her tremble where she stood, amazed that her pussy could be so dripping wet.
“I am connected to you,” he said, his low voice raising every hair on her body.
“So it would seem,” she answered, her voice shaking.
“My thoughts alone will not satisfy me, Yasmin.”
There was no room for doubt about what he meant. Staying in his carav, night after night, would be a dangerous game. Knowing they were connected on a deeper level somehow made the fact they’d only been together a short time seem silly.
It hadn’t been mere days they’d spent together, but ten long years.
Snippets of his thoughts now slipped along her mind, and she was aware of what he meant to do seconds before he did it. But she didn’t move away from him. She wanted him to kiss her just as much as he wanted to do it.
They each took a step. And with one puff of breath between them, their lips met—and the entire desert ceased to exist.
Six
Yasmin instantly opened her mouth. There was no thought, only a need to take Siraj inside herself and consume him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her in his embrace, tugging her so close her entire body molded against him. And there was no denying the long, hard length of his cock. Her fingers delved into his hair, threading through its thickness and holding on tight, wanting, needing more.
Her first taste of him was more flavorful than she’d imagined. His mouth was warm and tangy, as if he’d just taken a bite of a gandarang fruit. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d fantasized about kissing the Jackal, then chastised herself for such whimsy. But now, she stood in the sand, clutching onto the back of his head as if she’d die if she ever let go.
His lips raged on hers and his tongue plunged deep, demanding she keep up with him. Yasmin used her own tongue to stroke his and whimpered as every inch of her skin crackled with sensual delight.
Gods above, if merely kissing him was a feast of the senses, what would making love to him be like?
After what seemed long, eternal moments, Siraj pulled away, but not by much. His eyes pierced her while his nose flared, but his arms remained around her like two palm trees trapping her within their circle. Yasmin was dimly aware that they’d kissed each other wantonly in sight of Siraj’s entire caravan.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered, his breath a mere whisper on her lips.
“We are strangers.”
“We are not.” He cocked a brow. “I think we know more about each other than even we know.”
Yasmin scoffed.
“When I deposed my father, do you know what I prayed for that very night?” he challenged.
Yasmin gave him a strange look, yet somehow knew the answer. “You prayed for the god of Jackals to show you your future princess.”
“Then after I met
you in the dunes two years later, what did I think?”
She inhaled sharply and held her breath.
“What did I think, Yasmin?” he asked again, his voice soft and gentle.
“You believed that he…that he’d fulfilled your prayer.”
Siraj nodded. “That is why I cried when you left me.”
“Gods!”
His arms dropped, as if he somehow knew his words were too much for her. Yasmin’s eyes stung and her vision swam. Her soul felt ripped in two. Half of her wanted to flee, while the other half wanted to stay firmly in his embrace.
When she said nothing and looked away, Siraj stepped back with a sigh. “We will stop soon for the night. I will order that our dinner be prepared and sent to my carav.” She couldn’t tell by his tone, but it seemed as if he was hurt, perhaps disappointed.
At what?
“Go back to my carriage and drink some water. I will join you soon.” With that, Siraj turned on his heel and followed the caravan. Yasmin meekly followed behind him, not wanting to be left behind. A few servants grinned at her, some even whispered amongst themselves. But all she focused on was the retreating form of the Jackal Prince.
It suddenly struck her why he’d withdrawn. Every single time he’d been honest and forthcoming, she’d turned away, as if not wishing to be burdened by his true feelings for her.
But he was a prince and she was no one of consequence. Surely this relationship between them couldn’t possibly bloom into something more.
Yet the longer she watched him walk away, the more she wanted to call him back and lose herself in his lusty kisses.
Ripping her eyes away, she returned to his carav with an aching heart.
~ * ~
Siraj retired to his carav well after sundown. He’d seen to it his caravan was well fortified for the night, posting his guards at every carav, just in case the spirit came back to wreak more havoc. He wasn’t even sure his guards could fight the thing, but it was better to have some protection than none at all.
He’d sent food to his carav long before him. Yasmin should have eaten by now. He glanced around the carriage and found her easily enough, sitting in the pile of blankets he’d given her for a bed. She raised her eyes to him and nodded. She seemed nervous and tense. He couldn’t blame her.
His instincts had gotten the best of him a few hours before, and he’d kissed her before the entire desert. It hadn’t been a decision, merely something that had to be done. But she’d been so sweet, so delicious, that he didn’t have a single regret. In fact, the memory of that kiss had his cock hardening even now.
With a groan, Siraj returned Yasmin’s nod and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the food she’d left him and sat among his own pillows. He’d have to put a rein on his thoughts or else they’d manifest and become real. And the last thing Yasmin needed right now was his unwanted advances.
Siraj attacked the food even though he wasn’t particularly hungry. He had to keep his mind clear of the woman whose fragrance filled the air. Gods, what was that lovely scent? Did she even wear perfume? Probably not, he reasoned.
Yasmin lie back on her pillows and let out a soft sigh. He swallowed hard, not knowing what it was he’d just eaten. He raised his eyes to give her a quick glance, and cursed himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t look away.
Yasmin gazed back at him, her long black hair spread out upon the large golden pillow she rested on. She brought her blanket to her chin and shivered, but didn’t look away, either.
“I am sorry,” Siraj breathed, just to have something to say. He hoped she realized he meant kissing her beyond an inch of her life.
She did. “Don’t be. I have always been curious, Highness. Now I know.”
Siraj’s heart skipped a beat. She’d been curious about kissing him? His entire body shook. He had to look away—problem was, he couldn’t. Whatever bound them demanded he look at her. He let his gaze wander down her form, covered by his blanket. He wondered what she’d look like in nothing at all.
“Do you know anything about me?” she asked in a small voice.
His eyes snapped back to hers. They sat in silence while he concentrated on what her life had been like for the past ten years.
“You don’t have a last name.” Of all the things he suddenly knew about her, he had to wonder about that. “You don’t remember your parents.”
She smiled forlornly. “I have been alone for a very long time.”
He sat up in shock as bits and pieces of her past revealed themselves to him. She’d had to rummage through trash for scraps and rely on a few kind-hearted souls for water. She’d even spent a few summers as a falcon, nesting at the Falcon Prince’s oasis. She’d been curious as to how he could summon her along with his glorious birds. But she’d left his aeries not knowing anything more than when she’d arrived.
And she’d thought about him. Often. If what he was seeing in his mind was correct, she’d shed her own amount of tears over leaving him in the desert as well.
“I tried to impress people with what I could do,” she said in a soft voice. “I turned a few flowers into glass. Made warm water cold. I even showed one of my supposed friends that I could become a falcon. That’s when they began to…”
“Throw rocks at you,” Siraj finished, his eyebrows raised in shock. “How could they do that? You were just a child!”
“They were afraid.”
“Your powers are a gift of the gods, not a curse.”
Yasmin rolled away to glance at the ceiling. Siraj shivered, suddenly feeling cold without the heat of her gaze. “No, Highness, it’s a curse. My powers have captured the attention of an evil spirit. And I know what will happen to me if I cast too often. I will lose my mind.”
Siraj had to swallow to dislodge the panic that threatened to overtake him. “Perhaps the god of Jackals can prevent that from happening. You have already asked for his protection.”
“From the ghost.”
“My god is generous. He remembers it was you who healed me, Yasmin.”
“I have done nothing worthy of a god’s attention.”
Siraj scoffed and scooted closer to her. “You think saving me wasn’t worthy? I am my god’s steward, his representative in the Golden Desert.”
“But I didn’t save you because you were the Jackal, Highness. I saved you because I thought you were handsome.”
He had to grin at her confession. “Regardless, if you hadn’t happened upon me, I would have perished out there on the dunes.”
She looked at him once again, her beautiful eyes laced with sorrow. “Please don’t say that.”
“It is the truth.”
“I chanced upon you.”
“There is no such thing as chance.” She took a deep breath, licking her lips in the process. Gods, but he wanted to sink his cock deep into her pussy and claim her as his woman. As soon as he had that thought, he squelched it. But it was too late—she’d seen what he’d been thinking.
Yasmin’s eyes were round as she shrank away from him. He damned his own insatiable lust.
“I am sorry,” he said for the second time that evening. “But I want to tell you the truth from my own mouth, Yasmin. I have wanted you for as long as I can remember. I have prayed often I would find you again. But you found me first.”
She bit her lip as her eyes shone in the soft lamplight. “I prayed to find you as well,” she whispered. “But you are a prince, Siraj. I am nothing but a woman who will one day go mad. Either my magic will claim me or the ghost will.”
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “My brother thought of a solution that will protect you for the rest of your life.”
“Gods above,” she exclaimed, once again reading his thoughts. “I cannot become your princess!”
“Tell me why, Yasmin? And don’t you dare say you are not worthy.”
She gazed at him with shock clearly written on her face. “I…I…will go insane, Siraj. Your caravan cannot shelter me when
that happens.”
He took a deep breath. “That will not happen. You will have the hand of our god upon you.”
She visibly shuddered at his words. He decided to push the point home.
“You are the only woman I have ever dreamed about. You are the only woman I feel connected to. How could I take another as my princess, when all I can think about is you?”
She looked away but he continued.
“I want my children to have your gorgeous eyes. Your thick hair. Your sweet smile.”
When she didn’t say a word, his heart fell. He was coming on strong, but she needed his honesty, and she needed to know exactly what he wanted.
“The question is,” he whispered. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” She closed her eyes and teardrops fell into her hair. “I will not push you any longer, Yasmin. The choice is yours. You shall have my protection for as long as you wish me to give it.”
It took all his strength to move away, but he lay back in his own pillows and doused the lamps. The darkness pressed in on him and he knew she didn’t sleep. He’d be lucky if he got any sleep himself. He’d just laid his heart on the sand. He prayed fervently she wouldn’t rip it asunder.
Seven
Yasmin tried to keep busy as the days passed. Siraj had done his best to leave her alone as he’d promised. He was gone in the mornings before she awoke and returned late in the evenings when she was ready to retire. But that didn’t stop his heated stares. Whenever their eyes connected, a bolt of awareness shot straight to her clit, making her yearn for his touch between her legs. Or his mouth on her breasts.
It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the man.
Yasmin wasn’t sure she wanted to any longer.
He’d poured his heart out to her, telling her exactly what he wanted—for her to become his princess. She couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to her, or the fierce elation that had permeated her soul when he did. Gods, but he was scrambling her common sense.
He was getting better at masking his thoughts. She could only read him if she really tried, yet she didn’t try too hard. She already knew what he thought. It wasn’t good for her psyche—or her libido—to know exactly what he fantasized about.
The Jackal Prince Page 4
