Bound to Seduction

CHAPTER SIX

Mira was pissed.

Not just at the way Tariq had left her but at his dire warning.

Curse? What curse? She dumped a laundry basket full of clean clothes on her couch as she stewed.

At first, she’d been horrified by his rejection of her. Then wigged out over his warning. But the longer she thought about it and the more time that passed, the angrier she became.

Screw him for making her stress and worry like this. Screw him for disappearing on her in the first place. There was no way her little “wish” was going to “destroy” her, as he wanted her to believe. That was a mile of bullshit she definitely wasn’t buying.

This had nothing to do with a stupid curse. It had to do with him. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in her. Her hand stilled on a shirt mid-fold as the thought hit. She probably wasn’t as exotic as the women in his world. Definitely not as aggressive. What had she done during their last encounter? She’d lain there like a lump and let him have all the power. Wasn’t her “wish” about taking charge of some of that power? Wasn’t it his job to teach her how to do that?

She tossed the folded shirt in the basket, picked up a pair of capris as her temper spiked. Well, next time she wasn’t going to sit back and be the docile wallflower he expected. And he wasn’t scaring her off with his mindless threats. So what if he wasn’t attracted to her? This was her wish, dammit, and she wasn’t backing away from it or any challenge.

She finished folding the laundry, put it away, then went into her kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. As she stood at the patio window looking out at the city’s sparkling lights and downed her first glass, she reminded herself that it didn’t matter what Tariq thought of her personally. She wasn’t interested in him. She was doing this for Devin. So that when it was over, she’d have the confidence to snag the only guy she truly wanted.

And she deserved him, dammit. She’d spent way too many years alone. She deserved to have a man fall at her feet.

She poured herself another glass of wine and took it and the bottle to the coffee table in her living room. As she sipped the cabernet, she forcibly relaxed her muscles, breathed deep, and eased onto the couch. To her right, a fire roared in the fireplace. From outside, city lights beat in to illuminate the room. Her confidence grew with every passing second, swirling with the anger still bubbling inside her, any fear or misgivings she’d had drifting to the wayside. She was in charge here, not Tariq. It was his duty to do what she wanted. It was his place to fulfill her wish.

She brushed her fingers across the Firebrand opal resting against her chest, sipped her wine again, and waited. A cloud of smoke filled her living room, followed by Tariq’s muscular body, shoulder-length dark hair, and chiseled features.

Yeah, he was sexy as hell, but who cared? This was about her. She looked up at him, sipped her wine again. Waited.

His face was a mix of emotions she couldn’t read. Not that she cared. He took a step toward her. “Mira—”

She pushed to her feet, set her glass on the coffee table, and crossed to him. “I don’t want to hear you say anything but ‘Yes, Mira.’”

She stopped in front of him, pressed a hand against his chest, and marveled at the corded muscle and heat beneath her palm. “And I don’t care if you’re attracted to me or not, Tariq. This isn’t about you.”

His eyes widened. Surprise registered in their dark depths. And a smug smile flitted across her mouth because yeah, she’d surprised herself too. And damn, but she liked this surge of power.

“Show me how you like to be kissed,” she told him. When he hesitated, she added, “‘Your wish, my command.’ Remember?”

His gaze drifted to the Firebrand opal nestled in her cleavage, and her anger built because she sensed he was going to come up with some lame excuse as to why he couldn’t go on. “You’re bound to fulfill my wish, djinni. Kiss me now.”

His dark gaze shot back to hers, narrowed—which only pissed her off more—then skipped past her and swept the room.

What was left of her patience snapped. She grasped his face, tugged it down to hers, and pressed her mouth to his.

He froze, his eyes open wide. She didn’t let go, kissed his plump, masculine lips again, and pressed her body flush against his.

He was hot. Everywhere. Tingles erupted in her breasts, in her hips, anywhere they touched. Dark flashes of arousal rushed through her mind as his hands settled at her hips. She tightened her arms around his neck, tipped her head, slid the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips, waiting, hoping he’d take the hint and open to her.

“Tariq, dammit,” she said against his mouth. “Kiss me. Kiss me like I want right now.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, not a single muscle. And then a growl erupted from his chest. His arms closed around her with stunning force. He opened to her, slid his warm, wet tongue along hers, drawing out her desire and replacing it with a wicked need that consumed every inch of her body in a rush of flames.

Her muscles went lax. Her body thrummed with need. Her legs ached to slide around his hips.

She groaned as he walked her backward toward the couch, nearly cried out in ecstasy as he lowered her to the cushions. His kisses drove her mad, his tongue so slick, so firm, so delicious stroking her own. She wanted that tongue laving her breasts as it had before. Wanted to feel it slide along her sex until she came. Then she wanted it back in her mouth as she straddled his hips and lowered, taking him deep for the very first time.

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.