It’s such an Iris thing to say, a clever argument that somehow seems designed as a perfect counter to my own. But this time, it feels different. This time, she’s clutching my lamp and looking at me. It’s not an argument at all. Because all of a sudden, we’re no longer talking about Kasim.
With a thought, I store my brother’s lamp away in the space between realms. Magical objects can’t stay there for too long, but for a little while, it’ll do.
Then, I reach for Iris, and she reaches back.
My hands frame her face. Her skin is impossibly soft, still pale from the terror Kasim unleashed. But her pulse is a steady, resilient drum against my thumbs. She leans into my touch. She’s human, fragile enough to be broken by a single careless misstep. But she holds the metallic weight of my soul in her lap as if it belongs to her.
Maybe it does. Maybe it always has.
I slide my fingers into her hair and brush my mouth against hers. It isn’t the desperate, consuming collision of before. The raw, violent hunger is gone, replaced by an ache so deep it threatens to crack my chest wide open.
I kiss her slowly, breathing her in. She tastes like salt and leftover fear, but beneath it all is that stubborn, beautiful fire that is entirely Iris. Her hands leave my lamp, sliding up my chest, her fingers tracing the ridges of the amber veins beneath my dark skin.
I break the kiss just long enough to lift the lamp from her lap. I keep the enchanted gold securely in one hand and gather Iris into my arms with the other.
The bedroom is quiet. I lay her down on the cool sheets with the excruciating care she deserves. Iris looks up at me, her eyes dark and steady, entirely certain of what she wants. I set my lamp on the bedside table. It sits there, catching the dim light, a silent anchor in the room.
I strip away my clothes. I don’t rush. The heavy fabric falls to the floor, leaving nothing to hide. Iris doesn’t look away.
I kneel beside the bed and slowly pull the cotton of her shirt over her head. This time, I don’t use my magic. I could, but there’s something satisfying about undressing her like this, as if I were a simple human.
Iris’s skin is flushed. Her body is a map I’m desperate to memorize without leaving a single bruise behind. When she is entirely bare, I trace the line of her collarbone with my hands. It shouldn’t be possible for a djinn to burn, but my skin feels like it’s on fire.
Leaning down, I replace the touch of my hands with my mouth. I drag my tongue along the sensitive column of her throat, feeling her pulse race directly against my lips. “Rakan,” she moans, a plea and a prayer wrapped into one.
I move lower and take one of her nipples into my mouth. Iris gasps, her spine bowing off the mattress. I suckle slowly, letting the searing heat of my mouth burn away the lingering chill of Kasim’s threat. My hand cups her other breast, my thumb brushing relentlessly over the tightening bud. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer.
I want to worship every inch of her. I drag open-mouthed kisses down the center of her ribcage and over the soft, pale dip of her stomach. I want to consume the spaces where fear lived just minutes ago. Her thighs part naturally for me, inviting me inside.
I settle my weight between her knees. The scent of her arousal invades my nostrils, making my cock throb so hard it hurts. A part of me wants to just plunge in and feel her tighten around my dick. I already know how well her body receives me. But this isn’t just about the sex.
When I lean down and press my mouth against her center, Iris jolts and lets out a small cry.
The noises she makes intoxicate me more than the most potent incense. I trace the wet, swollen folds with my tongue, dragging it up slowly to taste her delicious juices. When I wrap my lips around her clit and suck gently, her hips jolt off the bed.
“Rakan.” Her voice fractures into a breathless sob. Her hands fist in the dark silk.
I want her completely undone. No, more than that. I want her to feel just how much she is worth to me. I slide two thick fingers inside her slick heat, mimicking the slow rhythm of a thrust. All the while, my mouth continues its relentless work. Iris writhes on the bed, increasingly loud, more and more desperate.
Every time I drag my tongue over her clit, her inner muscles clench tightly around my fingers. I push her right to the edge, feeling the tension arch her body like a drawn bowstring. “Please,” Iris sobs. “Rakan, please. I need you. Inside me.”
Her voice holds more power than the magic of the djinn. I pull back and slide up the length of her body. Settling my weight between her thighs, I brace myself on my forearms to keepfrom crushing her. The blunt head of my cock rests right at her opening.
“I’m already inside you,” I murmur, “just like you are inside me.”
It’s a feeling that’s been quietly taking root in me for weeks now, a deep bond that shouldn’t have been possible between a djinn and a human. But Iris is there, in the deepest recesses of my heart, and nothing will ever drag her out.
She looks at me as if I had just fulfilled the truest desire she didn’t even know she had. And I slide inside her.
As her wet heat envelops my cock, I groan, sensation erupting over my body. I sink all the way to the hilt and freeze, letting her body adjust to mine. She’s made for me. I know that, but even so, I don’t want to risk harming her in any way. She’s more precious to me than the lamp that holds my very soul.
Iris lets out a soft, breathy gasp. It isn’t a sound of pain. It’s one of absolute surrender. And it beckons to me like a spoken wish.
I begin to move. Her body feels almost impossibly good around me, but this isn’t about me. Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to replace the memory of Kasim’s cold threat with the enveloping warmth of my own body. I want the only magic she feels to be the protective, burning devotion pouring out of my skin.
Her hands map the broad expanse of my back. She arches into every stroke, her breath hitching, falling into a perfect cadence with my own. The friction builds up between us, thick and heavy.
My control begins to fray, not with violence, but with overwhelming emotion. “Iris.” I bury my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her sweet, human scent. My pace quickens.
