Genie Knows Best (15 page)

Samantha was having the best dream. Definitely better than the earlier one where she’d kept making wishes but none had come true, where Albert had been laughing at her, and the Oracle repeating over and over that she was their savior, all while a funhouse mirror had swirled around the perimeter, making a mockery of her.

She caught her breath, forcing her mind back to
this
dream. This pleasant, magical dream where she and Kal existed in the softest bed imaginable, with the sensuous slide of silk against their skin and the ultimate pleasure of sharing their bodies—

Her eyes flew open.

It wasn’t a dream. In the pale dawn sifting in through the open skylight, Kal’s face was inches from hers, his eyes closed, his breath warm and soft on her hands that were curled between them. His tousled hair was dark against the pale-yellow pillow, and a hint of stubble covered his jaw. She smiled, remembering how that had felt against her breasts. Between her thighs…

She’d slept with Kal.

Maybe she should be freaked out about that, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t as if she normally jumped into bed with just anyone, but these were not normal circumstances. She’d been up for longer than a day, had gone through an emotional service for her father, had dealt with Albert and that mess, had been whisked out of her familiar surroundings and into this other world with a talking fox—and a walking one—and if Kal turned her bad dreams to smoke and made everything right in her world, even for a little while, she could sleep with him if she wanted to.

The man was gorgeous and he turned her on in a big way. They were two consenting adults, responding to the other’s touch for the sheer pleasure of it, not to use the other for something or to get something from the other, but because they wanted each other. And God knew, the sex itself had been phenomenal, so sue her. Sure, she hadn’t planned it, but when she’d felt those arms around her, heard his soothing words, and felt the comfort his arms had provided, well, she was human as the next person.

Though the person next to her wasn’t exactly human. That had worked to their advantage. All of the good without any of the consequences.

And oh was it good.

A sheet covered the rest of him, but Samantha didn’t need to remove it to remember every glorious inch of him. The strong line of his jaw, the just-right firmness of his sexy lips, the breadth of his shoulders, the power and strength in his muscles, that chest, those abs…

The only nonhuman thing about him was his magic, but after her nightgown had disappeared, the only magic that had been in existence during the night was what they’d made together.

Curling her fingers into her palm, she replayed his gentleness when he’d held himself above her, the intensity of the look in his eyes as he’d thrust inside her. That undeniable pull between them wasn’t about his magic or what she could do for or give him. That, more than anything, got to her. Turned her on all over again. There was nothing so utterly freeing as being wanted by a man because of
who
she was.

Utterly freeing and utterly sexy.

Samantha sidled a little closer and propped herself up on her elbow. His lashes were as dark as his hair. Long for a guy. Funny, she wouldn’t have thought long eyelashes could be sexy, but on him they were. Pretty much everything on Kal was sexy… and she wanted him again.

Samantha raised herself a little higher. Moved a little closer. Lifted her lips next to his. Kissed him.

Kal’s eyes shot open, meeting hers, and his hand caught her arm, his fingers biting into her skin for a second—the second it took him to realize what she was doing. Who she was.

Samantha didn’t move other than to curve her lips into a smile.

He returned it a heartbeat later, grasping some of her curls, tugging her closer, and whatever kiss she’d thought she was giving him was firmly and completely taken over by him.

She didn’t care. All she wanted was to get as physically close to him as possible and give him the same kind of pleasure he’d given her. Reality and its demands would return soon enough. For now, she just wanted to enjoy
their
magic.

Samantha thrust her tongue between his lips in a manner so blatantly erotic that it threatened to take her strength away. Luckily, that didn’t matter because she found herself on her back so quickly that she hadn’t even seen it happen.

Not that she cared. God, he felt so good pressing her into the silk, as smooth and sensuous as the sleek muscles of his back that flexed and contracted with every movement he made over her. Muscles that shuddered when she ran her fingernails lightly over them as he held her hostage and ravished the interior of her mouth, his tongue thrusting in a way she wanted the rest of him to be doing.

His lips made love to her jawline; there was no other way to describe it. With each press of his lips, he claimed a little more of her. With each stroke of his tongue, each nip of his teeth, she fell more completely under his spell, every nerve ending shivering in anticipation, her reactions ratchetting up when his lips moved a few millimeters down her neck, the whole clenching, rising-up-to-meet-him, sighing-when-it-stopped thing happening all over again.

She was restless beneath him, aching for closeness. For sheer abandonment. Something. He was too restrained, and her body ached for more. It ached to be above him. On him, around him. Doing to him what he did to her.

She turned her head to the side. “Kal, please. I wish—”

He blew against her throat.

God, that felt good. Maybe she’d let him do it a little longer. Then he reached the hollow beneath her ear and coherent speech failed her. Not that she’d been so successful at it moments ago…

“More,” she finally panted and felt his lips curve against her skin.

“As you wish, Sam.”

And there was more. So much more she couldn’t process it. All she could do was feel.

Propped half on her, half on his elbow, he slid his other hand down the front of her, his palm circling on the tight bud of her nipple, and she felt wetness flood her.

“Kal—kiss me.” She didn’t care that she begged. She ached and she wanted and she needed. Reality could come crashing down later.

“As you wish,” he breathed against her collarbone. His lips slid away from hers. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to kiss her—

Ah. There. He kissed her nipple, the warmth of his mouth enveloping it, the gentle suction playing havoc with her nerve endings, and Samantha tried to draw breath into her lungs.

This wasn’t going as she’d planned.

Then his erection throbbed against her thigh and Samantha didn’t care what the plan was. She wanted him inside her. Wanted to take the full length of him in, clench him to her, hear his panted breaths, feel the shudders wrack his body.

She wiggled her hips, earning her a growl from Kal as he switched his attention to her other breast, his dark eyes searing her with their intensity as he looked up at her, almost daring her to object.

No way.

Decadence was watching his tongue lave her, watching his lips surround her nipple with the tiniest amount of suction to draw it up into his mouth, sending pleasure spiking through her like a laser beam, and she knew that if Kal didn’t fill her right this minute, life would have no meaning.

“Kal—” She gasped as his tongue continued to work its magic on one breast, his fingers doing the same to the other. “Could you—” Oh, God, what
was
that move he just did?

She rolled her pelvis, lifted it, trying to show him what she wanted because the words… they just wouldn’t come.

But she could. And she was so close. If only he’d—

“Oh God, Kal. I wish you’d be inside me already.”

Not the most romantic way—or even a sexy one—to say it, but she felt the curve of his smile.

“As you wish.” He shifted and there—finally!—was what she wanted. Pressure. Hard, hot, throbbing pressure against the part of her that was swollen and needy. That part that was drenched and aching with wanting him.

But he held himself up, his chest leaving her breasts to ache for his weight.

“Say it again, Sam.”

Even the way he said her name could make her come.

“I wish you’d make l—I wish you were inside me.”

She saw his smile for only a second before he covered her lips with his. Before he covered her body with his. Before he entered her.

And, oh God, it was better than before, and she had no idea how that was possible. Spirals of sensation unwound from her core, spreading to every limb, giving pleasure a whole new meaning. So much more than mere pleasure.

Frenetic, energetic, invigorating. A wild ride more intense than any carpet ride. It was soaring into the heavens and crashing to earth, only to avoid a collision at the last minute. This was flying at light speed, taking curves too fast and hanging on for dear life. The most exhilarating feeling in the world.

Kal stroked in and out of her in a rhythm so perfect it was as if he knew her own special secret. He cradled her butt with one of his hands, pressing her into him, sliding his finger—oh God,
there—
but it felt so right.

He held himself above her, enough that she could breathe—well, not really because catching her breath was
not
happening—but his chest brushed her nipples again, creating a whole new sensation.

It was too much; it wasn’t enough. She arched into him, wanting… something. She didn’t know what. All she knew was he had to go deeper. Harder. Faster. Pound into her. Make her scream.

She wrapped her legs around that gorgeous backside, locking her ankles, meeting his thrusts, crying out when he hit that one spot—

“Oh God, Kal. I’ve never… It’s never…” She couldn’t find the words. Hell, she could barely find herself.

“Come for me, Sam. Let me watch it take you.”

Oh she was being taken all right. On a one-way ticket to perfection. On a trip to paradise. She gripped his sides with her legs as the wave built inside of her and she arched into him again, her breasts begging for him to taste them.

Oh sweet Jesus he did. Over and over, he licked her nipples, each successive stroke drawing a wave of pleasure low inside her, each tongue flick a spike in the pleasure. So intense it almost hurt but didn’t.

Then he suckled her and she flew over the edge, coming so intensely, so soul-shatteringly intensely, that every part of her lay exposed to this one moment in time, every part of who she was poised on the brink of something as her body—and his—took her to new heights. New realms. New possibilities.

Then Kal thrust again, his breath a sharp hiss before he exhaled a long, low growl. His movements quickened, his thrusts deeper, the nip of his teeth sharp against her shoulder, and it started all over again. The rush, the wave, the sense of infinity. No boundaries. Elements and immortality… all things were possible in that one moment of suspended time when reality ceased to exist as they both came together and she wished… She wished…

Samantha felt the fire leave her in one quick
whoosh
, like the dragon’s flame devouring that gnome’s hat, as the reality of what they were doing crashed over her. The reality of what
she
was doing. What she’d wished.

Samantha rolled out from under him and dragged the silk cover with her, trying to catch her breath. She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him, wrapping it around her like a shield. Or a tent she could hide inside of.

Dear God… She’d
wished
.

He ran a finger down her spine and she shuddered.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” he asked, his voice low and husky. Sexy. Which only made things worse. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Talk to him. That was the joke, wasn’t it? Talking had created this mess. No. One little word had created this mess.
Wish.

She’d
wished
him to kiss her.
Wished
him to make love to her. She’d used him.

Bad enough Albert had only wanted her for her money and connections; Kal only wanted her because she’d
wished
him to.

Her life truly was governed by semantics, and, oh, what a rotten job they’d done. No—what
she’d
done.

“Samantha? What are you thinking?”

That was the problem; she hadn’t been thinking. She’d been feeling. Riding the high of what they’d been doing, and the reality hadn’t mattered until she’d remembered that word.

“Sam? You’re worrying me.”

She’d wished him into making love to her—wasn’t that the biggest irony of all in having a genie? A being who made all your wishes come true?

She scooched sideways to face him. God, he looked so good. Sexy as hell. Beautiful. And utterly perplexed.

It was her fault. Everything was her fault. It’d started with that first wish and had ended here. Like this.

The funny thing was, most people thought it’d be great to have a genie. Someone to do your bidding. Make your life easy. Grant every wish.

Except that every wish came with complications and Samantha had enough life experience to know that anything handed to you on a silver platter usually tarnished like that silver over time.

“Sam?”

Samantha clutched the covers tighter to her chest and tucked some curls behind her ear. Curls he’d held on to… tugged on—

It didn’t matter that he’d come on to her earlier. Didn’t matter that he wasn’t complaining. She’d taken away his choice. She, by virtue of being his master, had given him no choice, and she felt lower than that belly-crawling lizard of an ex-boyfriend of hers.

“Oh, God, Kal. I wish there was some way to keep from saying ‘I wish’ around you.”

Kal sat up. “What? You can’t mean that.”

“I do. I wish I could stop saying ‘I wish’ around you.”

Kal stared at her a moment longer and swallowed. Then he brushed some hair off her forehead. “If you’re sure, I can make that happen, Sam.”

“I’m sure. I don’t ever want to say that word again.”

He ran his fingers down the side of her face and along her jaw, his eyes following them all the way until they rested on her lips and Samantha wanted to groan with the travesty of it all. He was only doing it because of her wish.