Page 17 of Be-Djinn At The Beginning

“I never saw you before,” she said, reaching down to stroke his hair. “I always pictured you looking like some great, hairy, wolfish beast.”

“I am sorry to be letting you down in that way.” He peppered her body with kisses while making his way back up to her lips. “I may still be a beast.”

Bea kept her eyes locked onto his as he reached down to undo his belt. She had no idea what to expect when she saw him unclothed. Though she was fairly sure he wouldn’t look the same as the family’s stallion the day she’d glimpsed his male attributes and ran screaming to her mother.

Then again… She looked down and her heart skittered to a halt. Actually, there was quite a resemblance.

“What. Good heav—you can’t possibly.” Bea had, at one time, thought herself rather good with words. The sight of this gigantic purple appendage standing between them like another person had entered the room seemed to have knocked the English language right out of her mind.

Sahar laughed, but there was a flutter of nerves edging it.

“Well, I’ve never had complaints in the past, but then… You are a strange and persnickety young woman.”

“Now see here⁠—”

“Don’t let us get all tense again after all my hard work,” he said, leaning down to kiss her, letting his hands wander along her sides and over her breasts as he hovered above her. “I can take on any shape you like. Would you prefer that wolfish beast you thought I was? Shall I soothe you with soft fur?”

With those words, Bea felt the featherlight brush of fur against her skin, softer than any rabbit, and she couldn’t help a peal of giddy laughter.

“Distracting, yes. Also ticklish.” She squirmed under this new sensation. She looked again and the fur was gone, but she suddenly realized he was floating slightly above her. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Oh.” He looked down and slowly lowered himself to lay beside her. “I was afraid to crush you. But.” Perhaps this was the trick he needed to calm his bride’s fluttery nerves. A taste of adventure. “Would you like to give it a go?”

The expression of her wide, excited eyes told Sahar all he needed to know. He raised his closed hand and flicked his fingers open, buffeting her gently off the bedclothes on a cushion of tingly warm air.

Bea gasped and another giggle bubbled up, melting away her anxiety. The giggles tapered off when she felt her body floating closer to where Sahar lay, guiding her with his hands and drawing her down to meet his lips.

“Don’t be afraid, Little Bea. I’m with you,” he whispered against their kiss.

“I have never been afraid of you,” she answered, reaching down to stroke the sides of his face, his throat, then his toned purple chest. “No matter how you have tried.”

Sahar found himself far more shaky than she seemed to be. Her touch was something he hadn’t dared want since she had returned to him. Her body, now before him so beautiful and curvaceous, was something he had forced himself not to notice since she’d grown. Every touch from hundreds of years past—every body, every voice, every flirtation—had become dust in his memory.

With the palms of his hands pushing her to float upright above him, he kept his eyes on hers as he reached between her thighs to gather her slick honey on his fingertips.

“Sahar,” she gasped, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Ohh, it’s pretty when you say it, do it again,” he said, pushing her thighs apart to position her over his cock.

Bea was far too occupied with the torrent of feelings rising to smack her in the face, the thrill and the embarrassment and the love and the newness of it all. Just when she thought she might be able to go as far as taking a breath, she felt his cock that she’d only caught a glimpse of nudging between her folds.

“Breathe, Beatrix, I’ve got you.” He kept his eyes on her flushed face even though he ached to watch himself disappear inside her.

“D-don’t drop me,” she choked out from between her hands.

Sahar clucked his tongue and ran his palms along her thighs slowly.

“Never, my beloved,” he said, keeping her hovering there above him, biting back the torture of being barely inside. “I’m holding you. I will not let you go.”

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

With a slow glide of his hands, he brought her down and himself upward, inch by inch, until their hips met and foreheads touched. They took a moment to breathe in each other’s orbit, two astronomical objects now floating feet above the bed.

Tears gathered at the corners of Bea’s eyes as their bodies locked together. She’d never felt so much like she belonged, like she fit exactly where she was.

“Are you all right?” Sahar nudged the side of her face with his long nose.

“Perfect,” she answered, little breaths hitching around the word.