Bound to Seduction (8 page)

Wicked, erotic images of the two of them
tangled naked filled her mind. Him holding her head between his
legs, forcing his cock into her mouth. Her on her knees, her ass in
the air, his hand pushing her face into the floor as she struggled
while he thrust into her from behind again and again and again. Him
pinning her to the wall face-first, fucking her from behind,
pulling her back against him and forcing her to look to the right
toward another naked male body, this one hazy but clearly turned
on, the face masked, the strong legs eating up the distance as he
headed their way with a riding crop in his broad hand.

The last image jolted her out of the kiss.
She pulled back, stared up at Tariq’s flushed face. Tried to catch
her breath.

Whoa. Wait. What the hell was that? The
whole multiple partners/BDSM thing definitely wasn’t something
she’d ever fantasized about. She gave her head a swift shake, tried
to clear the image from her mind. Only it didn’t work. The images
were still there, circling, flashing, growing darker and more
perverse.

She shoved Tariq away, sat up, and rubbed
both hands down her face, more shaken than she wanted to admit.
That wasn’t a turn-on for her. Neither was forced sex or pain. So
why was she thinking of both now? Why couldn’t she get those
pictures out of her brain?

“Mira?” Tariq asked, concern in his voice.
“Are you okay?”

“I—” She drew a deep breath. It didn’t help.
“I—can’t breathe.”

He moved off the couch and back a step. She
pushed to her feet, stumbled by him. Stopped in the middle of the
room and tried to suck back air. Her lungs felt three sizes too
small. When he came up behind her and reached for her hand, she
tried to push him away, but there was no strength in the shove.

“
Breathe,
hayaati
,” he
whispered.

She squeezed her eyes tight. Shook her head
again. “I—I can’t get them to stop. The pictures won’t go
away.”

“Ghuls,” he growled.

She had no idea what that meant, but even as
the images assaulted her all over again, she heard him muttering
words in a foreign language. Words she didn’t understand. Slowly,
the images fled, leaving behind nothing but mist and fog. And
before she could ask what he’d just done, her muscles went lax, and
darkness spiraled in.

Mira blinked several times. She had no idea
how long had passed or what had happened, but when she finally
pulled her eyes all the way open, she found herself looking up at
the dark, vaulted ceiling in her bedroom.

“
There,
hayaati
,” a male
voice whispered—Tariq’s voice. “Don’t move too much just
yet.”

Something cool brushed across her forehead.
She blinked several times again, realized she was lying on her bed.
The bathroom door was ajar, letting in just enough light to
illuminate the room. Shadows played over Tariq’s face, but even
with them, she could see the concern.

“Wh-what happened?”

“You were being influenced,” he said with a
shot of anger in his normally calm voice.

“Influenced?” That didn’t make sense. By
who? By what?

“I told you last time I was here that there
are good and evil djinn. That some prey on those in your realm,
force humans to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do? They showed
up because of me. I should have expected this.”

As he spoke, Mira thought back to what he’d
told her before, then to the way she’d demanded Tariq kiss her only
a few moments ago. Embarrassment rushed through her, followed by
the memory of those images. And the desire to be the center of each
wicked, naughty, X-rated scene.

Her cheeks heated. She looked away from his
face. But his finger tipping her chin back toward him stopped
her.

“You are safe now, Mira. I banished
them.”

“Them?”

“There were two. Ghuls. The most perverse of
all the tribes. I didn’t sense them when I first appeared because
you…distracted me.” This time, it was his turn to blush. But the
color faded from his cheeks before she could register anything
other than surprise. “There’s no telling how long they were here
tormenting you. But they’re gone now. You have nothing to worry
about.”

Nothing to worry about except him and this
insane desire still rushing through her veins. Was that a result of
the Ghuls? Of her? Of Tariq? And what would happen when he left?
Would those things—those Ghuls—come back?

She swallowed hard, for the first time
realizing she was dabbling in something way outside her expertise,
then looked at his strong chest covered by the thin black T-shirt.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to rethink this whole wish
thing. She was opening herself up to some pretty weird shit
here.

But even
as she debated, she knew she didn’t want to go back on her wish.
Her need for Tariq was still as strong as it had been before. And
deep inside, she knew that had nothing to do with those Ghuls.
She’d wanted him since the beach. No, since before that. Since
she’d first seen him standing in her living room. Yes, that whole
influencing thing was pretty freaking nuts, but the images were now
gone, and those
things
weren’t
preying on her anymore. As long as Tariq stayed with her, she knew
she’d be safe. He’d said they’d showed up because of him. When her
wish was finished, those Ghuls wouldn’t care about her anymore,
would they?

The key was keeping Tariq with her. And
finding a way to make him want her as much as she wanted him.

Unease rippled through her. The same unease
she felt whenever she passed Devin in the halls at work or tried to
come up with a reason to run into him after hours. This was what
she wanted to change. This lack of self-confidence. She wanted to
be desirable. Strong. Craved.

Except…yeah, that was easier said than done.
And even though she’d wished for it, he didn’t seem very eager to
teach her.

She closed her eyes, rolled her head on the
pillow as a lump grew in the center of her throat. Maybe she was
just destined to be alone. Maybe love and marriage and the whole
happily-ever-after thing wasn’t in the cards for her.

“It’s okay, Mira.”

His hand brushing her shoulder brought her
eyes open. She looked up at him. At his deeply tanned skin, at the
scar above his left eyebrow she hadn’t noticed before, at those
dark, dark, haunting eyes. Eyes she wanted to lose herself in. Even
if it was just temporary.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked.

“What?”

“Are you attracted to me?”

Color tinged his cheeks once more as he
moved back an inch. “I—”

She pushed up to sitting, brushed her hair
back from her face. There was no sense going ahead with this if he
wasn’t at least a little attracted to her. She couldn’t just use
him as some so easily did. And if she didn’t ask, she’d just drive
herself nuts wondering. “Tariq, you said you wanted to be with me
before. Do you still?”

“Mira—”

“
Because
here’s the deal.” She drew in a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
Knew it was now or never. She could take a chance, go after what
she wanted or…not. In her business dealings, she was a go-getter.
In her personal life? Not so much. It was time to change that. “I’m
not naïve. I’ve dated plenty of men, but I’ve never felt confident
with them, and I think that’s why I’m still single. I want to
learn…how to touch without wondering if I’m doing it wrong. To
experience desire without the fear of rejection. And I
called
you
back because
for some strange reason—even though you are djinn, which is totally
out there for me to even say—I feel comfortable with you. I
want
you
to be the
one to teach me. If you’re not attracted to me, though… If you’re
just going to run again or come up with excuses why I should
‘think’ more about what I want, then this isn’t worth it to me.
I’ll take the Firebrand opal back to that shop and tell the
shopkeeper my wish didn’t work.”

She stared at him. Waited for an answer. But
he didn’t say anything. His eyes were blank, his expression
neutral. And in the silence, Mira’s hopes and dreams crumbled at
her feet.

She’d taken a chance. She’d gone after what
she wanted. And in the end…it didn’t matter.

She was right where she’d started out.

Alone.

Tariq stared at Mira as her words sank in,
and his pulse picked up speed.

She was
willing to give up her wish all because she had standards. She
wanted him—he could see it in her eyes, read it in her words—but
she wasn’t going to force him.
She
was
giving
him
an out, if
he so chose.

Awe, admiration, and wonder swept through
him once again. For a woman who was unlike any other he’d ever
met.

All the resolve he’d come back here with,
the intent to fulfill her wish, corrupt her soul as Zoraida wanted
so he could move on and free at least one of his brothers, withered
and died. How could he value one life over another?

Options raced through his mind as he stared
at her. It was too late for him to free her from her wish. By
calling him back, he was bound to her now until that wish was
fulfilled. But…maybe there was a way to prolong it. Until, at
least, he could come up with a better solution for all of them.
Zoraida wouldn’t kill his brothers so long as he was here. Not when
she needed Mira’s soul to strengthen her powers. And if he stayed
with Mira, the witch couldn’t send Ghuls to influence Mira’s
thoughts.

Staying took on a whole new appeal. Maybe
they could just sit here and talk until he figured out what to do
next.

“Tariq?”

Mira’s
soft voice jolted him out of his thoughts, and he brushed a finger
down her cheek before he thought better of it. “In my language, the
word for teacher is
mu’allim
.”

“
Mu’allim
,” she
repeated, drawing the word out. “I like that. But you didn’t answer
my question.”

Her skin
was silky smooth, and so pale next to his hand. Captivating. “You
are beautiful,
hayaati
. And
yes, I am extremely attracted to you. So much so that I left before
not because I wasn’t interested, but because I knew if I didn’t
leave then, I wouldn’t be able to stop touching you, stop tasting
you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop taking you.”

Heat flared in her eyes. Heat and desire and
need. A need he could sate, right here and now. If, that was, he
planned to corrupt her, which he couldn’t do anymore.

Keep talking
. He
had to keep talking so he didn’t reach for her.

“So much so,” he went on, thinking any words
were better than none, “that the thought of you wanting to know how
to please a man fills me with a jealous streak I’ve never
experienced before. Djinn are not jealous creatures.”

A slow smile spread across her face, one
that turned her from beautiful to downright gorgeous. She eased up
on her elbows, maneuvered to sitting, and pulled her legs out of
the way. “Is that so?”

“
Yes,
hayaati
, it
is.”

She moved before he even realized her
intent. Pushed against his chest, sending him back onto the
mattress. Then she leaned over him until her strawberry-blond hair
fell around his face like a curtain. “I want to make you feel as
good as you made me feel.”

Holy Allah in heaven
. No one had ever cared about pleasing him. In all the
years he’d been Zoraida’s pleasure slave, his assignments had only
ever cared about their own desires. His weren’t even an
afterthought. “Mira—”

She brushed her lush lips against his
throat. Tingles rushed through his body, speared straight into his
cock. “Do you like to be kissed here?”

His resistance wavered as his eyes slid
closed. “Um…”

“How about here?” She trailed her mouth up
to his ear, laved her tongue across his lobe as he’d done to
her.

Yes, yes
. Allah,
yes, he liked that. But he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be letting her
kiss him or touch him at all. He should be trying to distract her.
Words. He needed to use words to get things back on
track.

He slid his hands to her biceps, pushed
gently. “Mira—”

She ignored the move, kissed his jaw, his
chin, worked her way back up to his mouth instead. “And what about
here?” Her index finger trailed across his lips. “Do you like to be
kissed here as well?”

Desire
rippled through his chest, spread lower to engulf him in flames.
“Yes,
hayaati
,” he
whispered before he realized what he was saying. “By you, always
there.”

Her mouth closed over his, just as he
wanted, just as he’d dreamed. And though he knew he shouldn’t, he
opened to her, stroked his tongue against hers, grew hot and achy
at the need for her to touch him elsewhere. Everywhere.

With her it wasn’t forced. With her it was
natural. With her it was not duty, but pure, erotic bliss. A bliss
he hadn’t realized he’d missed until right now.

A ribbon of guilt wove through him. He
thought of his brothers locked in their cells. Of Ashur being
beaten. Of Nasir’s split lip and malnourishment. Why had he
complained about his imprisonment? Their torture was a thousand
times worse than his. Especially now, when he was being kissed by
the most amazing creature he’d ever met.

She skimmed a hand down his chest while he
explored every corner of her lips, her mouth, her teeth and tongue.
Her fingers tangled in his shirt as he cradled her face. She tugged
the shirt up, breaking the kiss long enough to drag it over his
head, then closed her lips over his once more.