Read Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian Online

Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #paranormal romance, #magic, #erotic romance, #djinn, #contemporary romance, #manhattan, #genie, #brownstone

Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian (17 page)

BOOK: Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian
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“No.” Her finger traveled around his lips,
her green eyes considering. Her touch left a warm humming trail
behind. “I mean unique. Like an incredible artifact someone
unearthed from an ancient tomb.”

“You’re comparing me to a mummy?”

Her smile slanted to one side. “You’re better
with words than me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her navel. “I’m
good with my mouth,” he promised.

He put his hands on her pussy first,
stroking, tugging, oiling her with her own arousal. Her head arched
back as he found the areas she liked to have massaged.

“You could close your eyes,” he
suggested.

“I like watching your expression.”

He curved two fingers inside of her. That
drew a nice throaty sound from her. He parted her folds with his
other hand. Elyse’s curled into fists. Despite her claim to like
watching him, her eyes were nearly closed already. He rubbed up and
down to either side of her clitoris, admiring its flush and swell.
One slow lick introduced him to her delicate taste. Then he sealed
his mouth over her hot bud.

Her moan of pleasure was an aphrodisiac,
causing his erection to surge longer.

She reached for something to hold and at last
settled on his head.

That’s it
, he thought.
Teach me
everything you like
.

Her body taught him with each roll and moan
and catch in her breathing. When it came down to it, she wasn’t so
foreign from djinn females. Women were all their own country, each
similar to the others but also different. This was territory
Arcadius enjoyed conquering. He didn’t tease Elyse. He took his
time, letting her enjoyment build.

He wanted to teach her to trust him.

He slid off the ottoman to his knees, finding
better leverage for what he did from the floor. It made sense to
duck beneath her legs, to let her bound feet rest on his back.

“God,” she groaned, clearly liking this new
position.

She began to tug at the tie that held her
ankles, to feel how the restriction intensified the sensations
inside her sex. Being bound played with people’s minds, but it had
physical aspects too. Certain things had to stay in certain places
and maintain their relation to each other. Leather creaked from
Elyse’s slow motion writhing. Arcadius’s heart pounded harder,
looking forward to her release as if it were his own. That was a
new experience. He generally kept an emotional distance when
pleasuring a female—if only out of strategy. He decided he enjoyed
this sense of involvement. Elyse’s body felt so alive. She was
losing her inhibitions, her motions begging him for more. He gave
her more pressure with his lips and tongue.


Arcadius
,” she pleaded.

Her pussy contracted around his fingers, that
tightening another plea. With his other hand, he pressed the bone
over which her clitoris anchored. He squeezed slightly from either
side, effectively holding the rod captive. Every good nerve bundle
that he was able to stimulate he did. Elyse’s back arched
dramatically.

Arcadius drew a breath and spun the dial on
his mouth to ten.

She cried out with a hard climax, not
screaming but close to it. He kept at her—fast, firm, his tongue
lashing her clitoris as his cheeks pulled it rhythmically. When she
sagged with satiation, he gentled.

“Holy smokes,” she breathed as he backed off
from her.

He wiped his face on his forearm and grinned.
To his surprise, she broke into a laugh. “You should see your
expression. Like the fox in the chicken coop.”

“Is that bad?”

“Nothing about you is bad. Not that I’ve seen
anyway.”

Not that she
remembered
, he
realized.

~

Sadness ghosted across Arcadius’s face. Did
some secret guilt trigger the expression? Elyse supposed everyone
had a history. However decent a person Arcadius seemed, he’d be no
exception.

Still vibrating from her orgasm, Elyse bent
forward on the couch to unbind her ankles.

“Shoot,” she said after a moment’s struggle.
“I tugged this tie pretty tight.”

“Let me help,” Arcadius said.

“You should,” she joked. “You made me do
it.”

Arcadius smiled faintly. She wouldn’t have
guessed his fingers were nimbler than hers, but apparently there
was a trick to the knot. He had her free in seconds.

“Don’t tell me. You were a sailor in a past
life.”

“I have been to sea,” he acknowledged.

He sat on his heels, the hint of wistfulness
lingering in his expression. The sight pricked her conscience.

For goodness sake
, she scolded
herself.
Stop being so damned uptight. This is a good man, who
just gave you a very good orgasm.

Simple fairness suggested she ought to do
something nice for him.

“It’s still early,” she said. “I’m not sure
what you planned for today, but since the sun isn’t up, you
probably can’t do it yet. I could make you breakfast, or maybe
you’d like a couple more hours sleep on something more comfortable
than a couch.”

He cocked his head in surprise. “You mean
sleep
with
you? On your bed?”

“Well . . . yes,” she said. “Or, um, maybe
you’re not into the snuggling thing—though we wouldn’t
have
to sleep.”

“We wouldn’t.”

Now he was teasing her. She knew that despite
his deadpan tone. She pretended to smack his chest. “I’ve been out
of the dating pool. I can’t help it if I’m awkward.”

“Forgive me,” he said, his gemlike eyes
crinkling. “I can’t seem to resist twitting you. I’d be honored to
join you in your bed, for cuddling or anything else you have in
mind.”

The suggestiveness of his voice abruptly
swung her into the
anything else
column. Elyse had always
assumed her sex drive was normal. If that were true, Arcadius
seemed to have superpowers for arousing her. Maybe every woman he
met reacted to him this way. Rather than think about that too hard,
she hopped onto her feet and offered him a hand up.

“Follow me,” she said as he accepted it.

He followed, seeming bemused to have
her
tugging him down the hall. That made her laugh, which
made it easy to tug him through the bedroom door. She told herself
this didn’t have to be a big symbolic deal. She and Arcadius could
simply have some fun.

“Hold on,” he said as she reached the foot of
the bed.

When she turned, he lifted her in his arms
for a full-on lip lock. That was fun, especially when he grabbed
her rear in one hand and started grinding his pelvis against her.
To her delight, he was erect. His cock felt like actual wood behind
his zipper.

He broke free to gasp for air and growl.
“Feeling you come made me so fucking hard.”

How could she want to laugh and jump him at
the same time? She rolled herself seductively over him. “I can
tell. Put me down and I’ll help you get naked too.”

He set her on her feet and she started
attacking his waistband. God, she wanted him inside her, like she’d
die if she couldn’t come around his raging dick.

Evidently, she was too slow for both of
them.

“Let me,” he said, which he followed up by
toppling her onto the mattress.

Elyse had no objection to him taking the lead
right then. The problem was, the moment their bodies hit the bed, a
giant shock zapped her in the butt.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing it.

Arcadius felt it too. “What the hell was
that?”

He touched her hip and the shock came again.
Though less intense than before, it seemed too big to be a static
charge.

“Huh,” she said. “This bed is wood. It can’t
be electrified. Unless some wire came loose and is arcing on the
mattress springs.”

Since the mood was broken, she got out to
check beneath the frame. Nothing was under there but dust and a
long-missing sock. When she clambered back to her feet, Arcadius
stood on the opposite side from her.

“There’s something between the mattress and
the box spring,” he said.

She didn’t know how he knew that, but he
sounded so grim she didn’t question him. “Okay,” she said. “Help me
lift the top.”

Sure enough, pushing up the mattress revealed
an object that didn’t belong there. It was a book, a small one,
bound in embossed leather. Elyse was no expert, but the design
looked Persian, possibly thirteenth century.

“That can’t have caused a spark,” she
exclaimed.

“You should remove it,” Arcadius advised. “I
don’t think it will shock you again.”

Realization dawned. Or sort of. “This must be
the book Cara was looking for, the one she said she loaned David.
What’s it doing between my mattresses?”

She pulled it out, barely noticing Arcadius
setting down his side of the bed. Despite knowing leather and paper
couldn’t shock her, she undid the ribbon that bound it gingerly.
Uncle Vince probably would be angry if he knew this was gone from
his library. The antique embossed leather was beautiful, the
yellowed pages edged with gold.

Elyse lifted the front cover.

“Careful,” Arcadius murmured.

Elyse glanced at him in confusion and looked
at the book again. The words inside weren’t written in English. “I
think this is Arabic.” Her brow furrowed. “David didn’t speak
Arabic. Why would he borrow a book of love poems to share with me
if he didn’t understand what they meant?”

Arcadius wore his grim face again. “Because
they’re
magical
love poems.”

Elyse started to laugh but stopped. “You’re
serious. Just how superstitious are you and Joseph?”

She blushed as soon as she’d asked. That was
a rude way of putting it.

Arcadius didn’t seem insulted. Instead, he
held out his hand. “May I?”

She passed the little book to him. His big
hand dwarfed it as he ran one finger down the lines on the open
page. Seeming satisfied, he closed it again.

“Yes,” he said. “If you turn these pages and
concentrate on your intended target, whoever it is will fall in
love with you.”

“That’s silly!”

“Is it? You’re the one who said you hated
this bed. You must have known, subconsciously, that the spell was
still functioning. It was causing you to feel things you wouldn’t
have otherwise.”

Elyse plunked her hands on her hips, the move
reminding her she was naked—not her favorite state for having an
argument. “I told you, David didn’t read Arabic. Anyway, we fell in
love the normal way, bit by bit, from getting to know each
other.”

“The charm would have magnified your
feelings. Kept your attachment strong no matter what he did—or even
if he died.”

“No.” She wagged her head back and forth.
“This conversation is ridiculous. None of this happened.”

“The person who activates the charm doesn’t
have to speak the language it’s written in. All they have to do is
run their eyes across the words.”

“No!” Elyse protested with real anger.
Arcadius regarded her calmly. “Why are you saying these
things?”

He let out a weary sigh. “Not to hurt you. At
some point, I was going to have to explain why I wasn’t leaving you
alone. Why I was guarding you.”

That didn’t make any sense either. Cara might
have a point about her judgment. Elyse had slept with a crazy man.
“Give me the book,” she said firmly. “I need to return it to my
cousin.”

Arcadius weighed it in his hand without
complying. “Your cousin was rather anxious to get it back. She must
want to use the spell herself.”

“There’s no spell! Honestly, I’m sorry to be
rude about your beliefs, but you’re taking those stories you tell
too seriously.”

“It can’t be a coincidence that the book
released its charge now, when you were about to . . . explore your
feelings for someone new.”

Of all the irrational things he’d said,
this
drew extra color into his chiseled cheeks. Was
exploring her feelings
his euphemism for having sex?
Ignoring her discomfort at being naked, Elyse stalked around the
foot of the bed to tug the book from him. As she yanked it—probably
too hard, considering its likely value—something fell from between
the pages and the back cover.

Elyse picked the something up. It was a micro
memory card in a small plastic case. “ELYSE” was written on it in
David’s handwriting. She touched the letters and shivered.

“That’s a computer storage device,” Arcadius
said.

“I know what it is.” Her anger drained from
her. This was all very strange.

“You’ll want to see what’s on it,” Arcadius
said. He hesitated. “I’ll wait in your living room.”

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

DAVID’S laptop was in his office. Happy to
get some distance between herself and Arcadius, Elyse threw on
clothes and took the memory card to the room next door. There had
to be an explanation for all of this. Probably she’d laugh when she
discovered it.

Once she’d shifted a box of David’s packed-up
stuff from the desk chair, Elyse sat. She booted up the laptop and
stuck the memory card into its slot. The only content was a video
file.

Crap
, she thought, her stomach
knotting. Whatever this was, she didn’t think she was ready to find
out.

She clenched her jaw and clicked “play.”

David’s pleasant features appeared on screen.
From the looks of it, he’d filmed himself in the basement unit with
the built-in camera on this laptop. He adjusted the screen, lowered
himself to the white Barcelona chair, and smoothed his shirtfront
down his lean chest. The familiar sight of him pushing his wire
rims up his nose made her eyes burn with emotion.

It totally felt like he was alive again.

So there
, she told Arcadius in her
mind. If her love for David were a trick, that couldn’t have
happened.

“So, Elyse,” David said in the comic-sheepish
voice he used to confess he’d forgotten to pick up supplies for
dinner. “If you’re watching this, I’m either dead or you’ll wish I
was in a few minutes.”

BOOK: Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian
12.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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