Spanish Nights
Spanish Nights
A Jinn’s Seduction
By
Valerie Twombly
*****
Published by Valerie Twombly
Copyright © 2014 by Valerie Twombly
Edited by: Chris Hall
Cover art by: Syneca
http://www.syneca-originalsyn.com/
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
*****
Spanish Nights
*****
This book is dedicated to my street team, Valerie’s Fang Gang. You gals rock and I love you all!
Special Thanks:
Ana P Martinez, for helping with my Spanish
Patricia Cookson, for coming up with the moonstone amulet
Robin Malone, for coming up with the chant
Chapter One
House of Unaria, 1100 AD.
“You're a fool,” Cyndel screeched.
Armand's skin crawled.
“I believe it is you who are the fool. Why would you want me to marry you when I don't love you?” The entire conversation perplexed him. He wasn't ready to contemplate marriage and especially to the crazed genie who stood before him. Yet deep down, he knew the real reason. She had seduced him. Promised him nights of passion with no commitment. She was much older and he had only been a fledgling at the time. Naive and powerless to walk away, the woman had sunk her talons deep into him and all he could think of was fucking her. Now that he was a full Jinn, and about to gain his own house to rule, she had changed the game plan. However, there was one thing she hadn't counted on. Armand was done being used and ready to walk away.
Cyndel glided closer and ran a sharp red nail down his bare chest. His flesh pimpled and his shaft stiffened. The woman knew his weakness and intended to play him for a fool. He stifled a laugh. It was she who was foolish if she thought fucking him would put a ring on her finger. No, he'd gladly scratch her itch, but that was all. He was willing to give his cock and nothing more. She straddled his lap and ground her hot sheath into his groin.
“I can make you change your mind.” She nibbled his earlobe, her fingers wrapping around his dark locks and pulling hard. “Besides, you will grow to love me. It doesn't have to be on our wedding day.”
He groaned under her administrations. The woman was breathtaking, her body sweet perfection and impossible to resist. He caressed the soft underside of her breast and let his fingers blaze a trail to her nipple, where he pinched the sensitive bud and gave a slight twist. She tipped her head back. Her raven hair nearly touched the floor and a moan escaped her lips. Armand couldn't help but smile. He also knew how to strum her body and make her beg for more.
“I can hear your thoughts, Armand.” She met his gaze. Her violet eyes swirled with desire. “Do not overestimate your talent.”
He pinned her to the stone floor, not caring if the cold seeped through her body or the rocks ripped it to shreds. Cyndel had used him for the last time and now it was his turn. She gyrated beneath him and he latched on to a nipple. Sucking it into his mouth, he scraped his teeth over the distended point while he pressed his erection between her thighs.
“Take me, Armand.”
He raised his head so he could look upon her beauty. She would make a good wife if not for her greed, and the fact she would never be faithful. He couldn't count how many times she'd cheated on him in the years they'd been together. At first he'd been hurt. As he grew older and wiser, he realized what she really wanted was his power, and he simply couldn't conjure any feelings for her other than the fire in his groin. He needed more from the woman who would become his queen. He needed love.
“You're a dirty whore, Cyndel.”
“Stop talking and give me your cock.”
He pushed the flimsy skirt past her waist then pulled his silk trousers down until his erection sprang free. In one fluid motion, he was buried deep. Her hot sheath wrapped around him and squeezed. Their magic swirled, lifting them off the floor and into an exotic air dance. He pulled back then thrust. Her nails dug into his back laying the flesh open, but he felt no pain as the wounds healed instantaneously. He brought her closer until her breasts pressed against his chest. They rocked in unison, caring for nothing else but the moment. He fisted a handful of black hair. Jerking her head back, he suckled the tender spot between her neck and shoulder. He nipped, moved upward until his lips were at her ear.
“Milk me you filthy bitch,” he growled.
She screamed. Her body shuddered in orgasm and her muscles clamped tight. Armand smiled, his dirty talk always sent her over the edge. Her pleasure was easy and predictable.
Cyndel flipped them in mid-air putting him beneath her. Her skirts flowed around him obstructing his view, so he grabbed the hem and ripped. The sight of his shaft, slick with her desire, made him harder. She rode him like a stallion. Fast and hard. The bitch needed to come at least three times before she'd be sated. Armand moved his thumb to cover her nub and rubbed in a circular motion.
She exploded and he had to bite back his own release. If he jilted her, she would nag him to the ends of the universe. He spun then brought them back to the floor and pressed her again the glass window. Placing his hands under her ass, he lifted her feet off the ground and pushed his rigid flesh between her swollen lips. He wondered if her guards were getting an eye full.
“You like being on display? Perhaps the guards will come and fuck you like a dog when I've finished,” Armand growled. He knew the thought of being seduced by several of the armed men outside would have her screaming in ecstasy. Not that she hadn't already used every guard in her army. It was her dirty little secret, but the men liked to talk. Hell, who wouldn't brag at having a go with Cyndel? The trick was to keep the whispers from reaching her. Piss her off and she could hold a grudge for centuries. The thought caused him to shudder. He met her violet gaze. “Come for me, Cyn.” Each thrust of his hips grew faster. She needed to hurry before he spilled his seed.
Cyndel dug her heels into Armand's behind as the third orgasm racked her body. With a final thrust he reached his own release. As his breathing returned to normal, he pulled free and set her on her feet. The genie smoothed the torn fabric of her skirt.
“As always that was wonderful, but we need to get down to business.” The corner of her lips turned up into a devilish grin.
Armand grabbed his pants and pulled them on. “What business would that be?”
“Our wedding arrangements, of course.”
He sighed. Cyndel wasn't going to relent. She'd been pushing to bring their houses together. With her father as ruler of the House of Unaria and Armand's own father king of Reviana, merging the two families would bring great wealth and power. He had worried for a time that even his father would side with the crazy genie, but he had told his son it was his choice alone who he married and when. Armand couldn't help the pride that filled his chest when he thought of his family.
His father, Efrain, a powerful Jinn had ruled the house of Reviana for thousands of years. Armand being the eldest prince stood next in line. Next week, on his five-hundredth birthday he would be given his father’s house to rule. It was one of the reasons Cyndel was so adamant on marriage.
Next came his brother Crone, followed by the baby Lazaro.
“Cyn. I don't know how to make it more clear to you.” He stepped closer and cupped her chin, tipping her head up to meet his gaze. “Sex with you is great, but that's all it is. I don't love you and you can't force me to. It's time we end this.”
Her violet eyes swirled with flecks of black. Anger rose off her and slithered across his skin leaving bumps in its wake.
“I suggest you rethink your refusal, Armand.”
He released her chin and stepped back. “You can not make me love you and idle threats do not frighten me.” He fisted his hands at his side. Ready for whatever she would throw at him.
Cyndel smiled. “As you wish then.” She tipped her head then vanished.
Armand released his stance. Cyndel was pissed, but she'd get over it. He quickly finished dressing and headed for the door to make a hasty exit before she decided to return. He wasn't ready to deal with her foul mood. He flung open the heavy oak panel and black mist trailed around his waist, sucking him into a vortex.
*****
Armand's chest constricted, and hard as he tried, he couldn't bring air into his lungs. His pulse pounded in his temples as darkness surrounded him. He struggled to stay conscious. A loud snap resonated through his body.
A rift had opened.
He plummeted through space and slammed onto some jagged rocks. He grunted and tried to relax his muscles as he continued to roll over the rough terrain. Coming to rest, he realized his head throbbed and something warm ran down the back of his neck. The winds whipped up and tossed bits of ice, like millions of tiny razors, at his flesh.
He winced through the pain.
What have you done to me, Cyndel?
Dressed in thin silk pants and no shirt, his teeth chattered from the biting cold that wrapped around him. He listened through the howling in his ears but could detect no other sounds of life. Armand tried to keep his eyes open, but his lids weighted down and before long they slammed shut.
The distant sound of a crackling fire and the scent of oak reached through the fog in Armand's head. He forced his eyes open and tried to focus on the fireplace across the room. Beneath him lie a soft bed and his body was covered with a down quilt. His mind told him to stay settled into the warmth, but the warrior in him said to get up. First, he wiggled his toes and fingers. Then he tested his arms and legs. Everything seemed to be in working order. Next, he lifted his head and noted the ache that had resided there earlier was gone. He sat up, letting the quilt fall to his lap, and took in the surroundings. In a large hearth on one side of the room, a roaring fire blazed that contained a cast iron pot with steam curling up toward the chimney.
Next to him were two wooden chairs and in one sat his brother.
“Glad to see you have finally awakened.” Crone leaned back, arms folded over his broad chest and one brow cocked upward. The man looked like his patience had reached its limit.
“Where the hell am I?” Armand tossed the quilt aside and set his feet to the cool wooden floor. Standing, he strode to the warmth of the fire not caring he was naked.
“Well, it would seem you pissed of Cyndel and she has cursed you.”
Armand whipped around and faced his brother. “Curse?”
Crone examined his nails. “Yes, brother, curse. You do remember what that is?”
Armand crossed his arms. “Yes, I fucking remember. What kind of curse?”
Crone looked up and rolled his eyes. “For the love of god, put some damn clothes on.” He waved to the foot of the bed. “I'm really not in the mood to stare at your goods.”
