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Pleasure Seekers
—
The evening was the longest in Yasmin’s memory. As agreed, she returned to her rooms and stayed. A meal of bread and water was brought to her by a maid. Admittedly, it was good bread, accompanied by a cruet of olive oil and herbs to drizzle onto it. Still, Stefan had to be ‘trolling’ her—as Balu claimed humans said.
Bread and water were prison fare.
Once the maid left, no one interrupted her punishment. Opening a window teased her with distant shouts of laughter. Stefan’s guests were playing a game out on the grounds tonight. Carpet polo, possibly. She thought she heard mallets thwacking balls.
Annoyed that she was stuck here while people were having fun or—worse—dropping useful clues, she flounced back onto her bed.
Why am I obeying? she wondered silently. No one keeps me here but me.
She wasn’t as adept at taking vapor form as Joseph. He was better than Stefan’s servants, despite their extensive experience. She, however, could slip out in her cat form. The drawback was that if she were caught flouting Dimitriou’s edict, he might banish her from his home. She’d never complete her assignment. Plus, her behavior would embarrass her client.
Obey for now, she decided. Goddess willing, Dimitriou would believe he’d succeeded in cowing her. He’d relax and she’d get another opening.
She stared at the flowery ceiling medallion, waiting for Safiye to return. That didn’t happen, though the noises of partying quieted and ceased. Did Safiye know she’d been punished? Was she displeased and avoiding her? Another possibility was that Stefan had convinced her to spend the night with him. She could be in his bed chamber that minute.
“Shit,” Yasmin murmured. Was she too late? Had Safiye already accepted his proposal?
She was heaving a sigh when a scratch sounded on her door. That bolted her upright. The steam drifting through the keyhole confirmed that Joseph was entering.
“It’s me,” he whispered as he reformed. “I came to see if you were okay.”
She smoothed her hair before she could stop herself.
“I am,” she whispered back.
He sat on the end of the bed, dangerously elegant in his evening clothes—or at least dangerous to her. She should have minded his presumption but didn’t.
“You didn’t listen to me,” he observed, one nimble-fingered hand petting the coverlet. “About not drawing attention to yourself.”
“Don’t you scold. I already took my licks from Dimitriou.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Maybe,” she answered sullenly.
His smile was faint but visible. She liked his amusement less than the simple fact of his company.
“I’m not telling you what I found,” she warned. “You haven’t earned that from me.”
Suddenly he was scooting closer, moving all the way up the mattress to sit by her. His hand rose to touch her hair, and her pulse leaped wildly. His golden eyes were gentle, his thumb like velvet caressing her cheekbone.
“I’m sure I haven’t earned this either,” he said softly.
His lips molded softly, warmly over her parted ones. He didn’t push inside her mouth but brushed across it from side to side. Every spot he glided over tingled. Her breath went shallow, and he sat back.
They remained connected. She’d laid her palm on his chest while he was kissing her. Now she couldn’t bring herself to withdraw it. His body heat was amazing, his heart drumming strongly behind his ribs. Hers drummed too. In her skin. Between her legs. Everywhere, it felt like. She realized her mouth hung open. He’d barely touched her, but she’d unraveled utterly.
She really was in trouble if he affected her this strongly.
Seeing her reaction, Joseph laughed breathlessly. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dancing. He cupped her face like before. “I worried about you when you didn’t rejoin the group.”
Was that why he kissed her, because he’d been worried?
“I was fine,” she said proudly.
“You weren’t fine. You were getting into trouble where you weren’t supposed to be!”
“Well, I’m fine now. See. Not a scratch on me.”
“You are the most infuriating—” He stopped and shook his head. “God help me, I couldn’t get you out of my mind all day. Wondering if you were all right. Trying not to remember kissing your gorgeous lips. My mind’s a shambles. I don’t know how anyone resists you.”
She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. His words didn’t allow it.
“You don’t have to,” she blurted.
“Don’t tease,” he said.
He was the tease, not her.
“I’m not,” she said firmly. “If you want me, I’d rather you not resist.”
Though his color deepened, he abruptly went solemn. Angry, she took him by the ears. “Make your move,” she said. “Or never try this again.”
She guessed he believed her. He blinked and then he wound his arms around her. The kiss he pulled her into was bruising but welcome. This time, he used his tongue. As it sparred with hers, his hungry hands roved her body. She wore a sheath nightgown like last night. Tonight, he seemed to relish how thin it was. He cupped her breast, squeezing it through the silk and thumbing circles around her taut nipple.
She swallowed an excited cry, sensation winging from his touch straight to her clitoris. Arousal spilled from her in a rush. Maybe he knew. He let out a sound, muscles tensing as he shifted in preparation for moving over her. One hand slid her nightgown higher. He stroked her bare thigh from knee to hip, caressing the muscle there.
She moaned as he pushed her into the plush mattress.
“Christ,” he gasped and writhed full length against her.
He was so hard it amazed her. She caressed his back through his tunic, waist to shoulder, every plane and bunching muscle delighting her. Joseph drove his hands underneath her bottom, hauling her closer still.
An incredible ache of longing coiled in her core.
“Yasmin,” he panted, his erection grinding the softness between her legs. “I want to make you come.”
“Keep doing that and you will. Better yet—” Groaning with impatience, she tugged at his snug waist sash. “Magick off your clothes and make me come with you inside me.”
His eyes flared hot gold, the trademark light of their kind almost blinding her. “I can’t do that. People will know if we have intercourse.”
“No, they won’t. Not for sure. And who cares anyway?”
“They’ll know,” he insisted. “You and I aren’t average, magic-wise. Having actual sex will change our auras. The difference will be noticeable.”
Yasmin stopped trying to tear his sash away. “Why does having people think you’re still a eunuch matter?”
“Don’t ask what I can’t answer.”
“You mean what you won’t.”
He looked at her, not denying it and not seeming sorry either. She huffed and began to speak, but he was too quick for her. He covered her mouth and kissed her blisteringly.
Her hands made fists on his back as the kiss drew out. After a bit, as he realized she wasn’t going anywhere, his incursion slowed. This turned out to be even more seductive. Every lick of his tongue seemed to stroke lower parts of her, while every undulation of his hips actually did. Stop that, she protested . . . but only inside her head. She couldn’t push him away. She craved what he did too much. He had her other breast in his hand now, his thumb and finger lightly pinching the lengthened tip. He must have been reading her energy. He knew exactly what pressure to use on her; knew when to let go so her nipple would throb with loss.
He also knew when to start over.
Then again, the way she gasped and wriggled probably shortened his learning curve.
By the time his mouth shifted to her neck, she could barely think. Her body buzzed all over with excitement, and his breath came as short as hers. The broken gusts fanned her perspiring skin. If that hadn’t been so arousing, she might have enjoyed a feeling of victory. As it was, her strongest reaction was surrender. With a moan that melted her even more, he nipped a tendon she hadn’t known was sensitive.
Her thighs were taffy. They rose up either side of him as if he’d spelled them there. In truth, he didn’t need a spell. Of her own free will, she wanted to open herself to him.
He sat up unexpectedly. Her legs sprawled around his hips while he gazed down at her. Djinn fire continued burning behind his eyes, but it was steadier. He knew what he’d done to her; knew she wouldn’t refuse whatever he wished to do.
Regardless of what he knew, he gave her a chance to tell him to stop. Inch by inch, he pushed her nightgown higher, the silk tickling her skin as it went. With him, being bared felt liberating rather than immodest. Needing no coaxing, she lifted her hips for him. He slid the silk to her waist.
Only her undergarment covered her. Joseph stroked the opening to either side. “May I spell these away?”
He could have asked more than that. Rather than say so, she pushed up on her elbows. This gave her a better view of what she’d done to him. She touched the hump that lifted his tunic front, petting the thick arch along its length. His breath sucked in. He was very excited.
“I’ll be careful with you,” he said.
Another man would have meant because of his size, but he’d said he wasn’t taking her that way.
“Why do you need to be careful?”
“Because—” He broke off and swallowed. “Because I haven’t done many sexual things before.”
He’d switched the place he caressed her undergarment. Now his nails strafed lightly up and down the cloth that covered her pussy lips. She couldn’t control a shiver . . . or the breathiness of her voice. “So far you’re doing fine.”
The glimmer of a smile broke his seriousness.
“I think I should set a rule,” she added.
“A rule.”
“What you do to me, I should be allowed in return.”
“Ah,” he said unsurely. “I, uh, don’t think you should feel obliged to do the things to me that I’d like to do to you.”
“I said you ought to allow it, not that I’d feel obliged.” She smiled when he squirmed uneasily. He really was entertaining to push this way. “You can’t deny my request is fair.”
“It is fair,” he admitted grudgingly. “I agree that you may . . . if you wish . . . do to me what I do to you. However, you must wait until I’m done.”
Her laugh for this was throaty. “For a djinni, you’re not much of a bargainer.”
“Other males are welcome to have other priorities.” The dignity in his tone didn’t cancel a hint of humor.
“Well,” she prompted. “Aren’t you going to spell away my clothes?”
He hesitated. “If I spell yours away . . .”
“Yes,” she grinned. “You’d be giving me permission to make you naked too.”
“I’d rather not be.”
“I know you’re beautiful.”
He grimaced. “I fear I’ll be too tempted to . . . go farther than I should if we are skin-to-skin. You could make an exception on that one thing.”
He sounded so hopeful she wagged her head. “I want you naked from the waist up. That’s my final offer. I won’t relinquish any more privileges.”
“Agreed,” he said.
To her amusement, they shook on it. Because she had his hand in hers, she pulled his palm to her mouth to kiss. He shuddered when she slipped her tongue out to lick the spot.
“Yasmin . . .”
“Am I distracting you?” she asked innocently, sliding the wet tip downward to flick nerves beneath his wrist. His skin was salty, and his fingers curled in reaction. “Surely a big, fancy magician like yourself can work a little spell no matter what I do.”
His eyes narrowed. She felt the energy around him thicken as he focused. He flicked the same fingers she’d caused to bend, and suddenly air puffed against her skin all over. He’d stripped her bare without uttering a charm. Not only that, her nightgown now hung neat as a pin on the back of an armchair.
“Showoff,” she accused.
She let him have a heartbeat to enjoy that.
Then she magically whisked his waist sash and tunic onto the floor. Two garments were better than one, weren’t they?
“You didn’t fold them,” he pointed out smugly.
She didn’t admit she wasn’t as slick as him. “I’m not your valet!”
When she started to stroke his naked back, he caught her wrists. With firm but not brutish pressure, he pulled them beside her head. “You’re a minx.”
“I’m a woman.”
His pupils swelled at the statement, darkening the center of his glowing eyes. His respiration turned sexual as she wriggled between his thighs. The time for humor was over. Desire ruled their choices now. He fanned her wrists with his thumbs, stimulating her nerves as she’d so recently done to him.
The fact that he crouched over her in a classic posture of male control didn’t escape either one of them.
“I’m at your mercy,” she reminded, aroused just by saying it. “You have my permission to do what you like to me.”
He bent lower, his tongue curling out to wet his parted lips. He kissed her neck so lightly shivers coursed down her spine. Her collarbones came next, kisses dropped like dew on her skin. He traveled left, then right, then nuzzled the dip between. His hands stroked up and down her forearms, somehow making her tingle all over. The inner slope of one breast received his tribute next, his breath coming faster as he neared her nipple. He claimed that like an erotic dream, soft lips surrounding the peak to tug.
Had he ever touched a woman as he was touching her? She didn’t think so. His manner was too enrapt. She let him explore her body as he desired. To her, this was exciting, no matter how careful his technique. He sucked her second nipple as tenderly as the first, his hands sliding lower to chafe her waist in a matched rhythm.
When he dragged his palms to her hips, she squirmed.
Theoretically, a man could use a hold like that to subdue his female.
Though Joseph wasn’t gripping her hard at all, she’d just grown so wet arousal spilled from her.
His head lifted from her breast. “Do you like this?”
She nodded, unable to speak aloud.
“You’re biting your lip,” he observed. He seemed to take this as a good sign.
His hold slid to her knees, which he caressed lightly as a feather on either side. Her left leg jerked in response to the skimming touch.
“Does that tickle?”
“Only in a good way,” she gasped.
He smiled and pushed his palms up her thighs, seeming to savor their shape and feel. “I believe I need leverage for this. Please let me know if you’d like more pressure.”
What he meant by ‘this’ soon became obvious. He moved backward on the mattress between her legs. He was going to kiss her sex. Though one rather insistent part of her wanted exactly that, being pleasured in such a fashion seemed highly personal.
“Wait,” she gasped as his head lowered.
He looked up at her with a furrow between his brows. Would telling him this act was also foreign to her make him more nervous?
“I kiss you here, yes?” he asked, his thumbs sliding inward to touch her clitoris from either side. “Or suck you, rather, and perhaps rub you with my tongue. I’ve read about it and seen animated pictures. It doesn’t seem that difficult.”
She had just enough breath to laugh. “I suppose it’s not ‘rocket science.’”
He knew the human term. “Then why do you wish to wait?”
“It’s . . . intimate.”
His eyes flared a few lumens brighter. “I want to be intimate with you.” His voice was husky. He kissed her gently to right and left. “You haven’t been shy with me up till now. Let me learn what pleases you.”
She stroked his hair, the dark locks silky as she combed them behind his ears. Evidently, the rims of his ears were sensitive. He shivered as her thumbs skimmed them. “I’ve barely touched you . . .”
He smiled like a thief who spies an unlocked door. “You can touch me later. If we get around to it.”
If they got around to it! She drew breath to object, but the air came right back out as a moan. He’d put his mouth on her. He was sucking her swollen bud. The tug on the epicenter of her sensation was deliciously direct. It felt better—to be honest—than anything she’d ever experienced. Encouraged by her reaction, he hooked his arms firmly around her thighs.
She hadn’t realized his biceps were so formidable. They felt hot and steely next to her bottom cheeks.
“There,” he said, panting a bit against her. “That should keep you where you need to be.”
It kept her squirming, was what it did. Apparently, being controlled like this lit her sexual fires. His strength held her in place even when she began to thrash. His technique barely had to be good at all. She was too wound up to contain her excitement. Fortunately, he didn’t try to get fancy. He stuck to steady and effective. And thorough. Thorough was very much his style. He sucked and flicked and used his thumbs to rub along her side channels, until she couldn’t help crying out. He growled at that, a rumble against her pelvic floor. The small of her back arched uncontrollably off the bed.
Joseph lifted his mouth off her. “Did you—?”
“Don’t stop,” she gasped, too close to the edge to be self-conscious.
“No, no stopping,” he agreed, returning to his self-appointed task.
She was glad for his seriousness then. He didn’t flinch when her hands clamped behind his head. Goddess bless him, he went harder and faster. Probably he could breathe. He’d mention if he couldn’t, wouldn’t he?
An instant later, she lost her ability to concern herself with his physical comfort. She groaned as all the ecstatic feelings he’d inspired gathered together and leaped high. She came in a series of powerful pulses, the pleasure so intense, so protracted that it literally stole her breath. She gasped for air as it ended, then let out a pleasured sigh.
“Okay,” Joseph said from a fuzzy distance. “That was you coming, wasn’t it?”
She laughed softly. She was limp, her hands no longer imprisoning his head. “That was me, most certainly.”
He moved up to lay beside her. After a minute for her lungs and strength to recover, she rolled toward him. His face was close, their heads resting on the same pillow. His expression was calm but watchful, his body understandably not as relaxed as hers. His lashes were amazing up close like this. The back of her hand fell naturally onto his naked chest.
Too naturally maybe, though she didn’t pull it away. Since they were so convenient, she turned her hand to pet his pectorals.
“Did I suffocate you?” she asked.
One side of his mouth twitched. “No more than I could stand.” He hesitated and spoke again. “That was all right?”
“Far better than all right. I believe you’re a natural.”
“Maybe I should get more practice.”
“Nuh-uh,” she contradicted and slid her palm slowly down his centerline.
“Yasmin,” he cautioned as her fingertips skated across his navel’s dip. Muscles jerked in his belly . . . and not just from nervousness. The heat that poured off his muscled body was tropical.
“A deal’s a deal,” she purred.
“I’d rather you didn’t— I mean, obviously I wouldn’t dislike if you did to me what I did to you, but—”
His breath caught sharply as she palmed the substantial ridge of his erection. A hard-on this stiff really had to be squeezed a bit. Yasmin felt gratified when his eyes crossed briefly.
“But?” she prompted agreeably.
“I’d rather you did that,” he rasped.
“This?” He surprised her. Taking him by hand would be easier, of course, given that most of her experience was with inanimate training tools. Despite this, she had to ask. “Wouldn’t you like me to do something you can’t do for yourself?”
“Well, I have done it, naturally. When I was younger. Before.”
“Before?”
“Before the sorcerer unmanned me.”
“And not since?”
He heard her astonishment. “I thought giving myself a release would differentiate me too much from my double. I didn’t want to hinder rejoining it. Our city needed me at full power.”
According to him, the statue of his double had been destroyed months ago. Once it was, he’d had no reason not to act like a normal male and give himself whatever release he wished. Maybe he wasn’t the orgy type, but some form of self-indulgence would have been understandable.
“Your restraint is extraordinary,” she observed.
He colored at her tone. “I thought I ought to have . . . an occasion.”
She smiled at that idea. “Am I an occasion?”
“Yes,” he said, perfectly serious.
Her hand still cupped his erection. He laid his hand on top, his fingers sliding between hers. “Won’t you pleasure me this way?”
There couldn’t be any real doubt she would. “I’m loosening these,” she said, undoing the front of his trousers.
He gasped as her actions gave his erection room to rise.
“Better?” she murmured. The answer being obvious, she reached into his garment.
He gasped again, a hint of a curse in it, as all four of her fingertips slid down his underside. This was delicious to her as well. His skin was velvet beneath her touch, the veins that fed his hardness raised and pulsing under the taut surface.
“You feel good in my hand,” she said, stroking down and then up his thick length again. “Smooth and strong and fiery.”
He’d clenched his jaw, his body coiling against a pleasure that likely threatened to overwhelm. She abandoned the idea of him giving her direction; expecting him to talk would have been too much. His speechlessness was all right. She liked the idea of taking charge of this.
She guessed she enjoyed being bossy as much as being bossed.
“Hitch your leg over mine,” she said huskily. “I need room to reach all of you.”
He obeyed after a small pause. The weight and tension of his leg on hers was unexpectedly arousing. Ordering herself not to get distracted, she pushed her hand deeper into his garment.
“God,” he breathed as her fingers brushed over and clasped his testicles.
“Are you sensitive here?”
His hand had been between her shoulder blades, but as she asked her question, he slid it lower. “Yes. That part of me is new. It might as well have never been touched before.”
Oh, she liked that idea. Before she could say so, his fingers traced a circle on one half of her lush bottom. The pattern he drew sent electricity through her nerves. Was he trying to arouse her, or could he just not resist exploring more parts of her?
“You’re biting your lip again,” he said.
Because this seemed like surrendering the upper hand, she released her lip and nipped his. That led to a probing kiss neither of them could bear to stop for a few minutes. Each taste made her long for more, each suck and pull a spur to their excitement.
When she pulled back at last, both their lungs worked like bellows.
“Rub my cock,” he panted. “Before I lose my mind.”
She was a bit embarrassed for having forgotten.
“Can’t have that,” she panted in return. “Your mind is a lovely thing.”
Despite her words, she didn’t rub his cock right away. She hadn’t finished investigating his testicles. She ran her fingers around them gently, not wanting to inadvertently cause him pain. She was pretty sure she was inspiring the opposite. His neck arched back, his Adam’s apple standing out. The texture of his skin intrigued her, the heft of the hidden structures inside the sac. Tendons jerked and shortened as she stroked him with her thumb’s pad.
“Yasmin,” Joseph rasped. “Don’t make me wait so much.”
“Sorry,” she said. “The way you’re made interests me.”
He was looking into her eyes, his gaze so close, so intense that it made her feel things she couldn’t put names to. Her irises must have been glowing too. Magic seemed to sparkle in the space between them. Was this what people meant by two souls becoming one? Should she be worried if it was?
“You’re a miracle,” he murmured. “The way you touch me . . . The way you feel underneath my hand . . .”
She wanted to give him everything he wanted, everything he dreamed of.
She didn’t say that. She had some self-preservation left.
“You want me to get down to business.”
“Yes.”
“You want to come.”
His gaze heated even more. “You’ll be in no doubt if you slide your hold up me.”
She took his cock by the base and pulled. His thickness leaped in her hand, and his neck sagged back with bliss like before, eyes closed, muscles all over his body tightening. She tried picking up the pace, then realized how awkward doing this with her arm shoved inside his trousers was. Without asking, she magicked the fabric to his hips. His startled eyes flew open.
“I know you’re modest,” she said. “I’m just being practical.
He looked at her. “All right,” he said finally.
She didn’t glance down, though she wanted to. She learned him by touch, pull by pull, stroke by stroke, until he felt like he was trembling inside and out. His shaft was as hard as iron, swollen to a size that both fascinated and alarmed her. Maybe, even without her gawking at his penis, he felt exposed. He dropped his brow to her shoulder, hiding his face from view. The leg he’d slung over hers coiled and shifted—as if he were too restless to keep it still. His body had instincts that didn’t require experience. He was almost thrusting, almost mimicking taking her.
She was no expert, but he seemed as if he were fighting not to explode.
“Are you holding back your climax?” she whispered.
“Should I not?” he gasped.
“You should do what you want.” Whether this was the proper answer, she didn’t know. It simply seemed right to her. Something else seemed right as well. “Hold on,” she said. “I’m pushing you onto your back.”
She didn’t give him time to resist. She shoved, he rolled, and she straddled him where he’d sprawled. Her eyes took a quick but thorough drink of him. A hundred illustrated pillow books couldn’t have prepared her for his appeal. He looked good enough to eat: sweaty and tight and carnal with his diaphragm heaving in and out. His cock stretched hugely up his belly, lying flat against it from the change in his position. Because she could, she clasped it from either side. He groaned and twisted on the covers as she pushed her thumbs up the distended under-ridge.
“That’s better,” she said, giving him the two-handed rub again. “One hand really isn’t enough for a man your size.”
“Yasmin.” Caught off balance, at least metaphorically, he grabbed onto her hips. She’d temporarily forgotten she was naked, but as he blinked at his new view, she remembered. She guessed he liked what he saw. He rolled his lips together and then licked them.
“You look nice too,” she teased.
He was flushed all over, like he’d been baking in the sun. His cheeks and nipples and glans were the darkest places, drawing her eyes irresistibly. His crown was spilling pre-come, the flow like oil shining on his skin. Yasmin decided maybe she ought to give him a warning.
“I want to rub this into you,” she said, touching the silky wetness with two fingers. “It will make my hands slide better. When I slick it around your tip, that will probably cause you to ejaculate.”
He looked down at himself, seeing what she did. “I . . . have noticed I am more sensitive there.”
The way he admitted this made her smile. “You don’t object?”
“I would—” He stopped and sucked in more air. “I would like you to make a fist. A tight one. And drag it up and down me quickly.”
She had no doubt she’d like this too.
“As you wish,” she said.
Like any concubine worth her smoke, she’d practiced this on stone dildos. Confident she’d do well enough, she set her knees for balance. She began as he had with her: simple and steady. He liked when the fist she’d made crossed the flange of his crown. His fingers dug into her hipbones, and his breathing deepened—deliberately, she thought.
He was trying to last, to savor every moment of the journey.
Though he trembled, his restraint amazed her. Her arm was going to give out before he did. Come to think of it, maybe he could stand a trick or two.
That idea sent a palpable thrill through her. Why not make this as memorable as her training enabled?
“How about fist over fist?” she suggested throatily.
Before he could do more than suck in a breath, she put her words into action. One tight hand replaced the other as each fist flipped off his tip. He moaned as she went faster, and that was a thrill as well. His head rolled from side to side on the pillow, his back beginning to arch off the bed for her squeezing pulls. He was in his head, his eyes screwed shut with pleasure, but she didn’t mind at all. She liked watching him lose himself, liked being the one to push him over the precipice.
She saved massaging his glans until his choppy gasps informed her his control hung by its last thread. She caught his shaft between the heels of her palms, trapping it for her special treatment no matter how wild his thrashing got. With his penis steadied, she rubbed the slippery crown, quick and hot, with all her finger pads.
Probably, this was over-stimulation. Joseph’s spine bowed, and he choked out a cry. Because she knew too much feeling was exactly right sometimes, she didn’t lose her nerve. Instead, determined to send him over with all possible fireworks, she worked her thumbs into the nerves that concentrated where his foreskin attached beneath the head.
He swelled in her hands and gasped.
This was her only warning. He came like a fountain that had been shut off too long. One short burst shot out and then a long stream of seed. His body shuddered, head to toe, threatening to jostle her off her knees. His energy jumped and sparked all the while, making her feel as if her nerves shared the climax too. She certainly panted like they had. Her thighs were even a bit goosey.
A minute passed before the climax eased. Yasmin sat back shakily on her heels. Because she thought he’d prefer it, she spelled his ejaculate to smoke.
Joseph’s eyes blinked slowly open, taking a moment to focus on her face. “Well,” he said hoarsely, swallowing to clear his throat. “That didn’t disappoint.”
Yasmin smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. And remember, now that I’ve broken you in, you’re allowed to do that for yourself.”
“Of course, I— I wouldn’t presume to—”
She laid two fingers across his stammering mouth. “You didn’t presume. I loved doing that for you, the same as I believe you enjoyed pleasuring me.”
His golden eyes fired at the memory. “I did find that gratifying.”
“So I’m only saying, if you want a climax and don’t happen to have a partner, this is a thing normal people do.”
He cocked his head at her. “Do the women of the harem pleasure themselves?” His fingertips touched her knees, stroking them lightly. He seemed not to know if this was all right to ask but was too curious not to. Yasmin supposed he hadn’t discussed such things with male friends.
“It wasn’t forbidden—not by Iksander, anyway. And harem women are flesh and blood, the same as anyone.”
“Ah,” he said, slightly awkward. “Of course, you are.”
The intimate mood they’d been sharing broke. Joseph shifted in a non-sexual way.
“Shall I let you up?” she asked.
She swung off him and he sat up. He raked one hand back through his damp, dark hair. She knew what his next words would be before his mouth opened.
“I should probably go,” he said, confirming it.
Her pride held a private war over stopping him. Why should she look like the clingy one? She sighed internally. She did have a valid reason for asking him to stay.
“Actually, I’d like to discuss something with you first. About what I found today.”
“I thought I hadn’t earned your confidences.”
“I guess, maybe, I worked off my annoyance.”
He smiled, which she managed to be resentful of and pleased by at the same time. Lifting his hips, he hiked his trousers and fastened them. “My ears are at your disposal,” he said smoothly.
Deciding she’d don some covering too, she summoned her silk nightgown from the chair Joseph had spelled it to.
“I went looking for the mysterious market stall,” she said once she’d pulled on the garment. “The one the townspeople claim showed up the day we arrived. It was locked in the basement of the Assembly Hall. Before the guard caught me, I discovered two facts of note. One: the stall sold the exact same bedsheets you’re lying on—quite a coincidence if it blew here by chance across the In-Betweens.”
“And two?”
“Two is that I found this.” Feeling a need to move, she hopped up to retrieve the jeweled waist sash she’d worn earlier. She removed the license from the hidden pocket and handed it to him.
“The vendor is local,” she said as he smoothed the folded parchment across his thigh. “I recognize her address. Everyone in Milion ought to know the stall belongs to her.”
Joseph finished reading and looked up. The furrow he had so much practice making incised his brow. “This is suggestive, I admit.”
“I have to visit that address,” she said.
She’d been encouraged by his first reaction, but now he frowned. “How do you figure that? Who knows if this has anything to do with Dimitriou? Even if it does, you must realize by now what your client wants your report to say. Maybe marrying Stefan is a mistake, but I doubt Safiye is paying you enough to risk your safety chasing leads whose relevance is, at best, dubious.”
“Am I only supposed to care about things I’m paid to investigate? What if Ivy Ozil is dead?”
“Her being dead wouldn’t explain why people here forgot her.”
“Exactly. Forgetting spells require sophisticated magic, possibly the sort a man like Dimitriou could afford. I’d say ‘do,’ but I don’t think he’s that powerful.”
“That’s a stretch,” Joseph said.
“I notice you’re not claiming he’s too much of saint to be involved.”
Joseph scoffed through his nose. “Like most of the djinn at this party, he’s verifiably dangerous. I simply question the benefit to him.”
Like most of the djinn? The admission, however nebulous, startled her.
“Don’t ask,” he said, both hands raised to fend off inquiry. “And for God’s sake, don’t poke this bear. What do you think Dimitriou will do if he catches your nose where it doesn’t belong a second time?”
Abruptly, she wasn’t sure being sent home was all she’d face. She crossed her arms regardless. “I don’t need your approval to check this out.”
“Of course, you don’t. You’re an ‘independent female.’”
“If you’re going to be sarcastic, I’ll follow your example and keep my worries to myself.”
“You’re my main worry at the moment,” he muttered.
That was vaguely flattering. What he said next was just a shock.
“I’ll come with you.”
She was speechless for two seconds. “Who says I’ll let you?”
“I’d provide cover. You can pretend we’re doing something romantic. If I’m seen leaving your room again, no one will doubt it.”
Her arms stayed crossed. She wasn’t ready to admit he had a point.
Joseph rose from the bed and spoke. “We’ll visit the address first thing tomorrow. Maybe claim it’s a sunrise stroll. If we’re lucky, we won’t be missed. Stefan’s guests do seem to be late risers.”
Yasmin wasn’t exactly an early bird—not by his standards anyway.
“I’ll be ready,” she said, rather than bring that up.
Joseph nodded curtly. His previous romantic mood was behind him. He didn’t kiss or even touch her before turning toward the door.
“You’re forgetting the rest of your clothes,” she called.
He stopped and blushed the teensiest bit. “Ah, yes. I, ah—” He scratched his barely heating cheek. “Perhaps I shouldn’t put them on but just carry them.”
He collected them from the floor in a loose bundle.
“You’ll look more convincing if you sling your tunic over one shoulder.”
“More convincing.”
“You’ve been fooling around with a former royal concubine. If you don’t swagger, who’ll believe you got lucky?”
He smiled, belatedly registering her humorous tone. When he’d arranged garments as she suggested, he lifted his left eyebrow. “Do I look lucky now?”
“Lucky enough. You can save any extra strutting for if you get luckier later.”
That brought a full flush into his face. He still didn’t kiss her, but he did bow respectfully.