Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4)

“Good.” He nodded, relieved. “Then let’s finish this story.”


A roll of canvas unfurled, fluttering open like delicate wings, Paz lifted her hands, an expectant look on her face.

“Time to show you who I really am…”





Chapter 12





Jinni stood in the center of the orchard, a white apple blossom clasped tight in his fist as he inhaled its fruity scent. The moon hung low, a thin sliver in the sky. The navy blue canopy of night glinting with a trillion stars.

He wondered if his brothers saw him now, what must they think?

Shame crept up his neck. That awful self-loathing he could only resist whenever Nala was around. The King had been good to him, Aria… like a daughter.

And yet, when she was around, none of it mattered.

A thread of orange blossom tickled his nose. Jinni’s lips curled a second before a small pair of hands wrapped around his eyes.

“Lover.” Nala’s warm breath tickled his ear, her breasts trailed hot and heavy along the length of his spine. “Have you missed me?” she purred.

With a low growl, Jinni turned and grasped her wrists, bringing them down to his waist with a sharp snap. She bit her full bottom lip, liquid lust glinting bright from within her kohl rimmed eyes.

Shoving her against the base of the tree, he spread her legs apart with his own and clamped tight to her waist. “You look like a painted whore tonight.”

Rather than insult her, the words seemed to spur her on. Nala moistened her lips, her gaze zeroing in on his own.

Madness spread through his veins, made his blood hot, and his head foggy. Nala’s pale chiffon wrap concealed nothing. Every lush curve, every dip was revealed to his greedy stare. His gaze scanned down, to the full breasts and small brown nipples. She ripped her gown off her top, and then scrubbed her fingers through his hair. A painful scratch that enflamed him.

“I’ve waited all day for that bore to fall asleep.”

Jinni inhaled her scent, running his nose the length of her swan neck, pausing when he detected the scent of balsa wood.

He gripped her forearms. “You mated him tonight,” he snarled, a sort of madness overtaking him. “You are mine, Nala. You swore it.”

She laughed, her bright red lips curving into a seductive grin. “Of course I mated him, he is my husband.”

He ground his jaw, his thumbs digging into her biceps forcefully. He wouldn’t hurt her, not really, but he smiled at her sharp gasp.

Nala was no delicate flower. She loved it rough. She danced her fingers up the bridge of his nose. “But my heart belongs to you. You know that.”

He closed his eyes, his cock so hard he felt it would burst through the seam of his pants. She placed her open palm on his chest, surely feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Look at me, djinn.”

Narrowing his eyes, he growled, “Is that a command?”

He knew it wasn’t, none could command him save Abdullah, but he needed to hear her say it. “You do love me, Nala? Only me?”

It unmanned him to grovel this way. At first he understood, even accepted, that theirs was an illicit affair. Never, in time immemorial, had a djinn ever fallen in love. It was forbidden. Love caused a clouding of common sense, of loyalty, and faith. But he could never see it that way. Love was a magic more powerful than his own. He could no more deny his heart, than he could deny the setting of the sun. It simply was.

She grabbed his face, her tempting breasts rising and pressing firmer against his chest, driving him mad for want of her. “That bastard may own my body, but you own my heart, Jinni. Always. You do believe me. Don’t you?”

Malachite eyes, so striking against the dusky beauty of her skin, searched his with a profound longing and desire.

It was wrong to take the King’s wife. The King was a good man, he did not deserve it. But, Nala also did not deserve to be forced into a loveless marriage for political gain.

Awash in the scent of apple blossoms and Nala, Jinni smiled. “I do.”

She petted his arm, causing him to shake and tremble. “Then trust me. Soon we will be together.”

Jinni rolled his eyes. “The King is old, but not so old to have hope of that, my beloved.” He traced the soft flesh of her cheek with his knuckles.

Her lashes fluttered as she started to dance and squirm on the thigh he still had trapped between her own. Her womanly arousal assailed him, made his body thrum with heat and need to rival the sweltering humidity of the night.

She nuzzled his neck, pressing her nose into his collarbone and inhaling deeply.

“You smell of magic,” she murmured and then licked him, tracking a slow, hot trail up and down and making him growl in the back of his throat. “Now, talk no more of that beast. Take me, Jinni.”

Frantic, he shoved the fabric of her gown aside and released himself, then shoved into her. Claiming her with his body, with his mind, screaming silently to the heavens that she was his and to hell with all else…