Sultan's Choice: Tales of the Djinn, #5 Read online

  “One more,” he grated.

  Connor smiled. “I’ll make it good.”

  He drew a slow figure eight around Iksander’s nipples, drip by drip, close enough to the tightened tips that the burn was the sharpest yet. Iksander cursed and writhed, his back arching off the bed, his ankles tugging and rattling their chains. The hurt-so-good agony drew his whole body in. His cock was caught at the center of the seductive net: throbbing, huge, its skin taut enough to singe him too. He growled, wanting to ravish someone that instant. The chains were all that reminded him to wait. This would be better if it lasted.

  He subsided, panting, his chest pulsing beneath the wax. The pain wasn’t fading as fast this time.

  “My turn,” Georgie said.

  A fog of lust dulled his mental powers. He didn’t guess what she planned even when she displayed her palms to him. Tiny diamond chips of frost feathered across them.

  He jerked as she pressed the coolness over his pectorals. Her skin was icy, the frost melting in the heat Connor had left behind. She was healing what he’d hurt.

  The concept stunned him. Maybe she was romantic too.

  “Shh,” she said at his reflexive twitch. “This is just a kiss of winter to cool the burn.”

  He blinked as she leaned over him. Her weight wasn’t much, her strength no match for his. Though her magic packed a wallop—all humans’ did, potentially—she’d never use it to injure him.

  Not wanting to break free was what imprisoned him.

  “Kiss me,” he said hoarsely.

  Her pupils reacted, swallowing more of her lavender irises. She touched one fingertip to her lower lip. The gesture wasn’t coyness. Sugary frost crept over her there as well. She bent closer, wintry vapor issuing from her mouth. She laid her lips softly over his.

  Her tongue slid in as his reached out.

  She moaned and he kissed her more skillfully, her coolness receding and returning as she fought to control her spell. When she was entirely warm again, his lips released her.

  Her giggle was a sound he rarely heard from her.

  “You do that too well,” she scolded. “I’ve lost all my frostiness.”

  He couldn’t resist. She was too dewy and flushed and sweet. He smoked one hand free of its leather cuff and cupped her silk-covered breast with it. The pearls and diamonds that swirled around the fabric weren’t idle ornaments. They were precisely placed—maybe magically placed—to draw attention to her nipples.

  She gasped as he circled one areola with his thumb.

  Because he could, he shot a small burst of magic into her nerves.

  That made the peak tighten more. She wriggled on her heels as if too stimulated to sit still. Her scent rose, tantalizing him beyond his power to control. One hand wasn’t enough to have free then. He didn’t allow himself to think better of the decision: he snapped fully into his smoke form, lost all four chains, and flipped her under him.

  She inhaled louder than before. Though this wasn’t the first time she’d seen his other shape, it remained alien to her. This purely djinn body was more intimidating, larger than his physical. It had strength like wind or electric current, able to move her, touch her, or go through her as he chose. Whichever he chose, she’d feel him affecting her.

  A sense of his own maleness gripped him. As he wrapped her slender forearms in smoky hands, the differences between them couldn’t have been more obvious. She was cream and roses, he a thunderous storm cloud gray. Georgie quivered but didn’t flinch. A part of him he didn’t feel ready to acknowledge thrilled at her slight tremor. Excitement pricked in a storm of static inside his cock, firing strongest at the tip. Her thighs were spread for him, lolling to either side. He wanted to take her, could have taken her . . .

  “Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

  His voice was lower in this body, a rumbling bass that pulled an added flush up her rounded breasts and into her cheekbones.

  She shivered then seemed to laugh at her reaction. “My lizard brain is afraid. The rest of me is just turned on.”

  He kissed her, the first kiss they’d shared like this. As he did, he dropped his hips against her, his smoke cock rubbing up and down her belly. He couldn’t tell if his size alarmed her. Mostly, he knew how good stroking her this way felt to him. She was breathing harder when he pulled back. Her eyes were wide, not frightened but startled.

  “Yes,” he said. “Kissing is different in this form. It’s as if our molecules interact.”

  She wet her lips. “Take me, Iksander. I want to know you this way too.”

  Longing clawed at him, a beast that goaded him to give in. “You’re sure?”

  “She’s sure,” Connor commented humorously.

  He’d moved when Iksander wasn’t paying attention. He sat near him and Georgie now, one muscular naked leg folded casually on the bed. He laid his hand on Iksander’s shoulder. His touch felt different from Georgie’s. The angel’s spirit was inherently buzzy and powerful—contained but not diminished by his human shell. Connor hadn’t batted an eye at Iksander’s transformation. Quite possibly, his perception of the sultan was the same regardless.

  “I’ll be your safety net, if you like,” he said. “Make sure you don’t accidentally hurt her in the heat of the moment.”

  “You’ll protect her?”

  Connor smiled at the gruff question. “Always. And you as well.”

  He would protect Iksander, though his race—so tradition claimed—had betrayed Iksander’s in order to elevate humans above them.

  Did Connor realize how extraordinary his promise was?

  “Very well,” Iksander said, unable to voice all this. “I trust you to keep your word.”

  “Good,” Georgie said. “Then we can get on with this.”

  Humor gleamed in her eyes as she smoothed his hazy chest up and down. He knew he almost felt solid to her. At the moment, only his edges blurred over her fingers. The energy her stroking stirred was delectable, reaching deep and hot inside him.

  She noticed the effect and laughed. “When I rub you, little lightning forks flare up.”

  Her lack of fear was a gift. He growled and kissed her passionately.

  Her pleasured moan gave him permission to do as he’d been craving. With a sense of victory and relief, he shoved his smoke cock into her core.

  She cried out and arched up for more. Iksander’s lust exploded. He was glad then for Connor’s promise. He couldn’t have held back to save his life. He fucked her and fucked her, driving into and through her. His girth expanded, but the usual limits of size and flesh were irrelevant. Her being accepted his penetration—her soul, if he wanted to be poetic. Overwhelmed, she flung out her arms. Her head thrashed on the pillow, her thighs alternately pushing upward and dropping wide. Perspiration glittered on rosy, rolling flesh. He wished he could make a record of her this way. She was a picture of abandon, of pleasure and surrender.

  Mostly, though, she was a picture of acceptance.

  “Yes,” he said or maybe only thought.

  “Iksander,” she groaned in answer.

  She came, the squeeze of her pussy and the charge bursting through her nerves equally palpable to him.

  How he held back from going with her he’d never know. He gripped her wrists and yanked them beside her head.

  “Do that again,” he urged.

  Perhaps he actually compelled her. Djinn could charm humans if they took them unawares. Georgie groaned and climaxed, and yet again he nearly went over. His need for release was excruciating. His smoke form began to glow with the strength of it.

  “Oh God,” she gasped. Her eyes screwed shut, her features strained by desire. He knew she was going to go again.

  He wanted something he’d never tried before. Always when he’d performed this act in his smoke form he’d finished the same way. Tonight he wanted her to see the man she knew. No smoke. No masks. Just him unmistakably.

  “Georgie,” he said, releasing the hands he’d trapped.

 
Her lashes lifted, her gaze blurred by the closeness of orgasm. Despite this, she saw something in the indistinct face he wore. Her expression altered—went soft and loving and sweet and funny and everything that was her.

  “Hold me,” he said even as her arms wrapped him.

  Her embrace turned him solid. He didn’t have to exert effort. His cock was simply flesh again, his thighs, his shoulders, the bent and straining arms on which he propped himself.

  He guessed Georgie liked this version of him as well.

  “Mm,” she hummed, squirming up him invitingly.

  His thrusts sped up before he could stop himself. He had to go deep. Had to pump. Had to take every inch of her tight, slick pussy. He gasped as his held-back climax suddenly barreled over him. Lightning of a different sort lashed him with fabulous sensations. He swelled and peaked and drove into her all the way, compelled to helplessly. She contracted too: arms, legs, every part of her clasping him. He came and came as if he hadn’t climaxed in years. His very spine seemed to empty out, his extremities tingling.

  Georgie sagged a moment before he did.

  He was trying not to collapse when she wriggled a little more.

  “Nice,” she said throatily. “Very, extremely, better than average.”

  She was the mistress of understatement. He laughed and eased out of her, gratified by her kitten mew of objection. “I don’t want to squash you. I’m heavy.”

  “You’re perfect,” she disagreed.

  “Perhaps you are learning the djinn art of flattery.”

  Though she’d curled toward him sleepily on her side, he sat up. He didn’t know why he wasn’t exhausted. Their coupling had been extraordinary. He’d come like a gasket blown off a pot. His penis was limp with satisfaction, his muscles humming from their workout. He raked his slightly sweaty hair back, still unused to it being short. Georgie had snipped it to preserve his incognito during their journey through enemy lands. His once wavy mane had been a status symbol, a mark of his prominent rank. The locks would grow back, but other things might not.

  He’d changed since he’d last been in his capital.

  His gaze cut to Connor. The angel sat with seemingly infinite patience just where he’d been before. The sultan’s attraction to the man was another unsuspected facet of his nature. He couldn’t be sorry for it. Though he harbored some nervousness for the future, he was happier than he’d ever been.

  Better, he thought. Bigger of heart and spirit. Being loved so freely by these two amazing people made him more capable of love himself.

  Connor’s lips curved, the hooding of his eyes mischievous. “Feeling a need to work off more tension?”

  His suggestiveness, coupled with the ghosting of his fingertips along Iksander’s inner thigh, stirred a quake of renewed interest. He met Connor’s sky blue gaze. “I’m not sure ‘tension’ is the right word. I would, perhaps, like to express a few additional emotions in a physical manner.”

  “I would also find that agreeable.”

  Like Georgie, the angel knew how to understate. He sucked in a breath as Iksander took his very erect shaft into his perspiring hand. Evidently, watching Georgie and Iksander had incited strong reactions.

  “Just agreeable?” he teased.

  “Welcome, if you prefer.” He gasped more sharply when Iksander pulled his warm grip upward.

  Iksander had touched Connor like this before but couldn’t recall if he’d truly paid attention. Had he noticed how silky his cock skin was? How its core resisted pressure? How vigorous the beating within its veins? A curiosity to discover how he tasted rolled through him suddenly.

  “May I take you in my mouth?” he asked.

  Connor laughed. His shaft had just thickened more.

  “All right,” Iksander said. “I suppose I know your answer.”

  He didn’t stop to think. Shifting onto his hands and knees, he bent to Connor’s lap.

  The angel groaned as if he didn’t expect Iksander’s mouth sinking down him to feel so good. That was flattering. And inspiring. Iksander’s penis jolted harder, doing its level best to resist gravity. This led to an unexpected development. A small but not entirely gentle hand wrapped and slid along his length.

  Georgie hadn’t succumbed to slumber as he’d assumed. She must have decided his current activities were worth joining. From the feel of it, she’d also removed her clothes. Sheets rustled as she set her knees firmly behind him. Approval wasn’t strong enough to describe Iksander’s reaction to the improved angle this offered her. His hips rolled into her tight, slow strokes, waves of pleasure rolling up him anew. Having Connor’s erection in his mouth while her palm teased his pounding shaft made his libido go crazy. He shivered, a drop of pre-cum welling warningly from his slit.

  “You’re distracting me,” he complained even as his nerves fired with ecstasy. “I’m trying to concentrate on pleasing Connor. It’s not like I have years of experience.”

  Georgie laughed joyously. “I’ve noticed you’re a quick learner, besides which Connor likes watching both of us.”

  “I do,” their mutual friend agreed. “Please let her do you while you do me.”

  Fine, Iksander thought, his body a bit too willing to go along. “Don’t blame me if this goes sideways.”

  Unconvinced by his grumping, Georgie nuzzled his shoulder and gave it a tiny nip. In his head, Iksander admitted the gesture was welcome. He’d do his best, which was all anyone could ask. That decided, he steadied the angel’s cock.

  Then he placed his lips on the crown and pushed.

  My God, he thought at the butter-smooth, marble-thick surge of it going in. Sucking Connor this way was pleasurable, but the man was a monument. Iksander was fortunate his nature gave him extra control of his throat’s reactions. Recalling treatment he’d enjoyed himself, he laved his tongue hard and wet on him.

  “Jesus,” Connor gasped, his big hand startling to back of Iksander’s head. “Yes, please, do more of that.”

  “Kneel up,” Georgie suggested. “So Iksander doesn’t have to lean down so much.”

  Connor knelt up, and suddenly everything was easier. He could hold Connor’s rear to guide him—plus, well, holding Connor’s rear was fun. Connor moaned as the sultan gripped and kneaded his tight muscles.

  Georgie stroked him in the same rhythm that Iksander sucked Connor. That was convenient. If he needed to edge back from the precipice, he simply slowed down himself. Connor’s hold shifted from Iksander’s head to massaging his shoulders. The stroke felt good—hypnotizing, almost. This could have been a dream. The three of them moved in a kind of dance, giving and taking in synchrony. Their breathing deepened. The men wanted to hang on.

  Connor let out a moan as if this were growing difficult.

  Excited by that, Iksander ran both hands up Connor’s thighs. His balls were drawn up, plump within his scrotum. Iksander squeezed the sac, which caused Connor to shift his knees wider.

  “Longer,” he said, sounding like his throat was tight.

  Because it was what he would have wanted, Iksander understood what he meant. He lengthened the wet push and pull of his mouth. A second later, Georgie did the same with her fisted hand. Hot prickles suffused his skin. This was it. No more waiting. He and Connor were going to go over together.

  The angel cupped his ears as Iksander rolled his eyes upward. The other man’s expression astounded him. Muscles tight, skin flushed, his blue gaze speared Iksander’s without a sliver of self-protectiveness. He let the sultan see how much he wanted this, how much he cared for and trusted him. That made Iksander flush in return. He was so close to coming he couldn’t speak. All he could do was suck harder.

  He wanted to give the angel a climax he wouldn’t soon forget.

  “Ah,” Connor cried.

  The ridges of his flat stomach tensed. His cock swelled and so did Iksander’s. Suddenly, Georgie’s fist tugged Iksander’s length double speed, pulling it fiercely in and out from his abdomen. Oh she’d learned what he liked. The
hint of pain was perfect, the sense of helplessness created by her near roughness. Nerves flaring white with pleasure, his enjoyment spiked beyond his power to restrain. Connor’s ejaculation shot down his throat at the exact instant his own tore free.

  Djinn had a large capacity for pleasure, and Iksander was no exception. Seared and seized by his second peak, a rapturous groan ripped from him. Connor echoed it and thrust as Georgie hugged Iksander tight from behind. Her arms were strong, her breasts flattened to his skin. Following her example, his fingers clamped hard on Connor’s hips. He was held and holding, completely reckless yet utterly secure. The glow that swamped him a moment later was nearly as intense as an orgasm. Gasping, he pulled free to kiss Connor’s chest.

  The sound of ragged breathing—from all of them—was as rewarding as the floweriest compliment.

  After that, he truly was relaxed. Flopping back in the rumpled sheets with the others—one sweaty lover on each side—didn’t trigger uptightness. Georgie’s head rested easily on his shoulder, Connor’s fingers feeling completely right twined with his. He rubbed Connor’s hand with his thumb. The angel’s taste lingered in his mouth, the impression of Georgie’s grip still pulsing on his slack penis. He wouldn’t have traded either for twenty heaps of gold.

  I’m getting used to this, he thought.

  “I learned something tonight,” he said, his voice deepened by lassitude.

  “What’s that?” Connor asked as Georgie hummed sleepily.

  “Having new partners is exciting, but being less new is better.”

  Connor laughed. “If being less new means we can make love like that, I have to agree with you.”

  Chapter 3

  Georgie was an early riser. Despite the energetic night they’d spent, the following morning didn’t break her pattern. As she wriggled out of bed and enjoyed a stretch, the men slumbered on. Back when Connor was her work colleague, she’d have shaken him awake. Today, she simply smiled at him mumbling in his dreams and shifting closer to Iksander.

  They were a pair of sexy puppies sprawled together for company.