“You are so tight, hayaati,” he whispered in her ear as he pushed in with one finger, felt her clamp on tight, then slid out again. She dropped her head back against his shoulder, moaned, and rocked her hips against his hand. “Do you like that? Do you like me fucking you like this?”
“Yes, yes. God, yes.”
“Do you want more?”
She swallowed. Nodded. Gripped his wrist tighter at her waist.
“Tell me.”
“I want all of you, Tariq. I want you inside me.”
He closed his mouth over hers, kissed her deep, then let go. She fell to her hands on the mattress. He moved in closer, palmed her ass with one hand while he stroked her sex with the other. When she moaned and pressed back against him, he wrapped his hand around his cock and guided it toward her sex, stroking her with the tip until she shuddered.
Heaven. It was the only thought he had as he sank into her wetness. As he pulled out, then pushed in again. Her whole body tightened. She shifted back to meet his thrusts. Groaned again and again as their coupling picked up speed.
He felt himself slipping. Felt his control loosening. And knew—for the first time ever—what it was like to be on the other side. To be the one who was tempted, influenced, driven to do things he wouldn’t otherwise do. A blinding desire to take her harder, to use her in any way he wanted overwhelmed him. To disregard her wants and needs in favor of his own. This was what he did to the humans he granted wishes. This was the way he corrupted. By giving them a taste of something erotic, then twisting it until that desire consumed them.
The realization slammed into him, stole the air from his lungs. He gasped, pushed away from Mira, tried to slow his racing pulse as he dropped back to sit on the side of her bed.
Mira turned, looked at him with half lust, half surprise. “Tariq? Is everything okay?”
No, everything was most definitely not okay. His chest was strung tight as a drum, his ears were ringing, and he was pretty sure those were spots firing off behind his eyes. Not to mention, every soul he’d ever corrupted was flashing in his brain. “I…I’ll be fine. In a minute.”
Mira scooted closer. Soft fingers brushed his bare thigh. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t do anything. It was me. I—”
His words cut off when he looked at her—really looked at her—and saw her for the first time. So honest. So real. So unlike any other person he’d ever met. It was as if he could see her soul for what it was. And it wasn’t tainted. It wasn’t black. It was…pure.
“You what?”
“I…” His brow dropped low. “Who are you, Mira Dawson?”
A slow, winsome smile spread up her face. “I’m just a woman.”
But she wasn’t. She was more than that. For whatever reason, she was special.
He kissed her. Slowly. Gently. Unable to do anything but touch his mouth to hers. She groaned against his lips, slid onto his lap, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
He opened to her, didn’t try to stop her when she pushed him to his back, when she levered herself over him. When her hand stroked his cock and she positioned it back at the entrance to her body.
“Mira,” he whispered.
Slowly, she sank down, and they both groaned as he filled her. Arousal flushed her cheeks a warm pink. She rocked against him, pressed her hands to his chest. Never once looked away as she rode. And as his orgasm barreled close, he brushed the hair back from her face and knew, wherever he went, no matter how long he was chained to Zoraida, he would always remember this moment. Of finally being wanted. Not for what he could do but for who he was. Of finally doing the right thing in the sea of all the bad he’d ever done.
“Tariq…” Her rocking picked up speed. She grew tighter, hotter, wetter.
He sat up so he could taste the pleasure from her lips when it hit. “Yes, hayaati. Ride me. Take me. Come for me.”
Her mouth dropped open. A long groan echoed from her chest. He captured it with his mouth, kissed her deep again and again as he lifted his hips, as he thrust deeper, as he tried to milk every inch of desire from her before it was over.
Electricity raced through each cell in his body while she rode the wave. And before he realized it was coming, his own orgasm slammed into him. Stole his breath. Made those stars he’d seen earlier explode in a mountain of fireworks. Everywhere. Until want and need and dreams and wishes all condensed into a hot, burning point of light that sucked up everything in one giant vortex of pleasure.
Mira collapsed against Tariq and tried to drag air into her lungs. His chest rose and fell with his own rapid breaths, and both their bodies were coated in a sheen of sweat. Sweat that felt way too good.
Pleasure still radiated everywhere—even in her fingers and toes—and she smiled as she remembered how easily she’d made him come with her mouth. How easily he’d made her come with his body.
“I…I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Tariq’s voice vibrated from his chest into her ear, and she pushed back, smiled down at him. Her heart turned over as she stared into his eyes. A reaction that both surprised and confused her. “No, you didn’t hurt me. In fact, I think you might have fixed me.”
He darted a look around the room, and the way his eyes changed from lazy to on guard brought a rush of worry that chilled her skin. Were those Ghuls back? Had he seen something?
He rolled her to her back, pushed up on his hand. A wave of disappointment washed over her as he slid from her body. “Don’t say that. Not yet, hayaati.”
She still didn’t know what “hayaati” meant. She’d have to look that up. And she wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her to say he’d fixed her. But as he climbed off the bed and pulled on his jeans, the fear in his voice registered. Followed by an understanding that dawned bright in her mind.
If her wish was complete, their time together was over. He didn’t want it to be over.
Warmth replaced the chill. She slid to the end of the bed, reached for his T-shirt from the floor before he could pull it on. “I didn’t say I was done with you, Tariq.” She tugged the shirt over her head, let it drop to her thighs. Loved how it smelled like him. “I said you might have fixed me. Not that you did.”
He stopped. Looked back at her. Then a relieved smile spread across his face, just before he eased down and kissed her, pushing her to the mattress once more and driving her wild with his mouth. When he eased back, she saw approval in his dark eyes. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met.”
She liked that. Liked it a lot, actually. She fingered his bicep. He was so muscular. Cut. Hot. “I think there’s still lots more I need to learn. This was great and all, but I don’t think I’ll be done with you until I know I can pleasure you without you having to tell me what to do.”
“That could take a while,” he teased.
“Could take a long while.” She smiled. “I’m thinking we might need another session right now.”
One dark brow lifted. “Right now? Are you ready for that so soon?”
She brushed her hand down his spine and gripped his ass through his jeans. “I’m definitely ready for it. The question is, are you? You’ve already had two orgasms. You might need to gather your strength.”
He chuckled. “I am djinn, hayaati. Can’t you feel that I am ready?”
She did feel it. He was hard against her thigh already. Arousal tingled between her legs once more.
She lifted her head. Pressed her mouth to his. Mumbled, “You dressed way too quickly.”
He chuckled again. Slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her deeper. She opened to him, drew his tongue into her mouth. Groaned at the slick, dark taste of him all over again. “I want you to stay with me tonight, Tariq. All night.”