Sultan's Choice: Tales of the Djinn, #5

by Emma Holly

  He didn’t have long to gloat. Connor was pulling his cheeks apart, positioning his lubed-up cock to press inward. He did that without delay. Iksander sucked in a breath as Connor mouthed his shoulder.

  “Big enough for you?” Connor laughed.

  Iksander couldn’t speak. He moaned and came down on both elbows. Georgie stroked his perspiring back, loving the feel of his muscles shifting with longing. Connor came closer too, in sawing surges that jogged Iksander over her. Every inch Connor gained made the sultan’s neck arch back with delight.

  “God,” Iksander swore, his hand now clenched and tangled in the silk covering her hip. “I can’t concentrate enough to— Fuck.”

  Connor had loosened Iksander up enough to move freely. He began to thrust slowly in and out all the way, his expression clearly communicating his pleasure. Iksander groaned, and the cloth of her trousers tore.

  If he couldn’t spell her naked, she guessed he’d do it the old-fashioned way.

  “Wait,” he gasped to Connor. “Wait. I want to get into her.”

  Connor stopped rolling in and out.

  Iksander’s hand shook as he backed up to rip the rest of her clothes. Path clear, he fit himself to her entry. The tip of his cock felt like it was steaming. Then again, maybe that was her. When he was set, his palm smoothed the ball of her shoulder. His touch was surprisingly tender, considering how ready she could tell he was.

  “I’m so glad,” he said. “So very glad the three of us are doing this.”

  He pushed then, forging into her passage, filling her pussy with his satiny hot thickness. She sighed at the bliss of the penetration. Her legs slid naturally up his sides, her hands riding up his athletic chest. His signature djinn scent surrounded her, wild mint warming in the sun. This smell had become as dear to her as Connor’s, as reassuring and homelike. Her thumbs met above Iksander’s heart, rubbing where the vigorous beat vibrated his breastbone.

  He was magical and real at the same time.

  “I’m glad too,” she said.

  Connor smiled. He stroked Iksander’s short hair behind one ear, kissed it, then reached to comb her spiky locks. “Is it time for me to move again?”

  “Oh yes,” Iksander encouraged throatily. “If you would.”

  They didn’t rush. Connor thrust, and Iksander squirmed, and Georgie wriggled under him. It was one-two-three, like a line of playing cards rippling over in slow motion except they kept setting up again. Iksander’s fingers caressed her clit as his cock rubbed long and sleek inside her. Her excitement rose and rose—and not just from her own enjoyment. Connor worked Iksander’s pleasure spots: his prostate, the sensitive ring of his entry. He knew how Iksander liked to be nipped, how the simple slap of flesh on flesh got him going. What got him going got Georgie. When Iksander groaned with longing, she felt the craving too. She arched, about to come, and Connor shoved harder.

  The sound his damp palms made on the table did insane things to her.

  “With me,” she said, finding Iksander’s pebbled nipples and giving them a twist. “Iksander, Connor, come with me.”

  Iksander sucked a big gulp of air. The next time Connor’s hips smacked his, Iksander put more strength into his thrust. She didn’t fight the inevitable. The men were going to drive her over. She was going to enjoy it. Connor grunted, and their next thrust came in powerful synchrony. Iksander swelled, her body tightened, a cry ripping hoarsely from her throat. Fingers tightened on her clit, pinching the nerves inside it exactly right. More cries broke, more hot male weight shoving down on her. Iksander’s breath broke beside her ear.

  The fierce burst of heat his cock shot out decimated her. Her climax was delicious—sweet and sharp as she toppled, and then pulsing lengthily.

  She surfaced in time to see Connor’s head fling back. His hips went fast, fast, fast, and finally held deep in orgasm.

  “God,” Iksander said, half-prayer, half-exclamation of wonder.

  He was trembling on top of her. Georgie kissed his shoulder then licked a salty drop of sweat. Connor patted him from the other side, pulling free so the sultan could ease his weight off her. Too flattened then to move, they lay on their backs on the long table, with Georgie in the middle.

  “Hm,” Iksander said, still somewhat winded. “I never noticed there was a painting on this ceiling.”

  Georgie laughed. “I guess you haven’t been throwing strange dinner parties.”

  “Only with you two.”

  Connor sighed happily. “I’m getting better at taking you.”

  That amused Iksander. “Humility isn’t a problem for you, is it?”

  “Not really,” he admitted.

  Iksander smiled with his eyes closed.

  “Iksander?” Georgie said. “Speaking of humility, sort of. If we marry you, that doesn’t, like, make us your co-rulers. Because that doesn’t seem appropriate to me.”

  She had his attention then. Iksander turned on his side, propped his head on his folded arm, and considered her. “My mother would be reassured to hear you say that, though possibly also skeptical. No. The title of kadin or consort doesn’t convey ruling power. People might consider you and Connor to have my ear, but that’s as far as it would go.”

  “Good.” Georgie said this so firmly Iksander’s brow furrowed quizzically. “I’m no queen. I learned that growing up with Luna. She’d have loved me turning power hungry.” The empress would have loved her hating Iksander even more, but that hadn’t worked, obviously. “I like being the boss of me. Maybe a little more. Running a country, though, wouldn’t be my cup of tea.”

  Iksander looked past her to Connor.

  “I don’t want to run things either,” the angel said. “I respect the free will of others, and being the boss trips that up. I . . .” He hesitated. “I believe Georgie and I would rather support you. We see the load you carry, how deeply you care about your citizens. We can’t promise not to have opinions, but I think we’d rather help you help them.”

  Iksander’s eyes welled with tears. Georgie touched his chest with her fingertips, but he seemed all right when he spoke.

  “Your words move me more than you can imagine.” He cleared his throat. “There is one issue I should bring up. I’m not certain I can father children. As you know, Najat never became pregnant. If Georgie conceives by me . . .” He shook his head. “The younger people might like to see a child of yours on the throne. By all reports, you’re already a heroine to them. The older generations I’m not so sure about. However much I hope attitudes will change, I can’t promise they’d accept a half-human as their ruler. We’d have to decide if that was a fight we could win.”

  “I didn’t think of that.” Georgie’s heart beat faster. He was making this marriage business feel realer by the second. “Back home, we don’t have hereditary leaders. What will happen if you don’t have an heir?”

  “If my authority continues to be respected, I’d name a successor, someone with sufficient popular approval who’d behave with integrity. I could also declare a Ruler’s Quest. We haven’t had one in generations, but that’s how the House of Nummius—my house—was established.”

  “It’s a magical selection process,” he added. “A sword in the stone sort of thing.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying that sounds fun.”

  Iksander smiled crookedly. “I have pride, the same as any djinni. I’d like to see my line continue. I’m most concerned, however, that my city flourishes.”

  Georgie’s own eyes pricked. “I hope your people know what they have in you.”

  “They’ll be our people,” Connor said. “Iksander is sharing them with us.”

  This concept probably wasn’t as astonishing to Connor. Georgie was a mostly ordinary girl, a simple junk upcycler. She’d never had marry-a-royal fantasies.

  “Your face!” Iksander said, bursting into a laugh.

  “I’m realizing how big this is.”

  “You’re up for it,” Iksander assured her. “I’ve not a single
doubt.”

  “Me either,” Connor seconded, hugging her from behind.

  “You never doubt me,” Georgie accused.

  “And you never let me down.”

  She knew he meant this, however unlikely it seemed to her. More importantly, she knew he’d believe in Iksander just as much. Connor was no fool, but where he loved, his faith was unshakable.

  Maybe that’s true of every angel, she mused. They believe in us no matter what.

  “I guess I can’t doubt the team,” she said.

  “The team’s a winner.” Connor planted a kiss on her shoulder.

  “Unstoppable,” Iksander said, dropping one to her nose.

  He was grinning, and her lips curved to match. Her heart had slowed, the nervousness that sped it abating.

  As long as she was allowed a nap, unstoppable sounded great to her.

  GEORGIE’S VOICE SLIPPED into Iksander’s dreams like smoke.

  We’re supposed to attend that dinner tonight at his vizier’s. If I don’t wake him in time to change, we’ll be late.

  If you wake him like that, we’ll be even later.

  The second voice was Connor’s. Hearing it, the sultan grinned into the pillow his face was buried in. Georgie giggled at Connor’s answer, which deepened his grin and caused an interesting heat to pool between his legs.

  “Iksander can dress magically. Anyway, he’s dared me too many times. I have to defend my female honor.”

  “I don’t know, Georgie,” Connor said unsurely. “He’s only mentioned it twice that I’m aware of.”

  “Come on. You know I have to. Plus, this was in that fancy box in his closet. He must have some interest in what I’m proposing.”

  Okay, now his groin was experiencing more than heat. His cock was thickening, his hips an inch away from needing to squirm and lift. The idea that she’d discovered his hidden box of toys was equally titillating and alarming.

  You’re not a coward, he told himself. Plus, this might be too good to miss.

  “I can hear you,” he mumbled into the soft pillow.

  “Excellent,” Georgie said. “Probably you should be awake when I start spanking you.”

  He turned his head sideways to look at her.

  She stood beside the bed. The first thing he noticed was that she was naked—her breasts, her pubis, her lovely limbs on glorious display. The second thing that registered was the paddle she was holding. He’d bought it years ago from a street peddler, on one of his occasional, in-disguise wanderings. The base was teak, the padded cover royal blue leather with embossing. At the time, he’d thought the color had caught his eye. Now, seeing her slender fingers wrapped on the handle, her slightly callused palm being tapped by the batting flat, he realized the toy must have been designed for a woman’s hand. Connor’s larger grip would have swallowed it. As to that, so would his.

  Well, he thought, somewhat startled by the subconscious message he seemed to have sent himself.

  Georgie grinned at his expression.

  “You should be afraid,” she said. “I’m not one of your soft little harem girls. If I use this on you, you’re going to feel the sting.”

  “Am I?” he asked faintly. His cock was throbbing now, a red-hot pole of yearning beneath his hips. Even as he ordered himself not to, he ground his pelvis into the bed. The friction of the sheets on his aching flesh was so welcome he bit his lip. Then, because he just couldn’t stop himself, he writhed into them again.

  “Hm,” Connor said to Georgie. “Forgive me for doubting you. You seem to have called this correctly.”

  Her throaty chuckle sent ripples down his spine. “You’re not the only one who can read Our Majesty.”

  He didn’t object to the nickname, which secretly tickled him. He did know enough to pretend to be offended. “Is reading me all you plan to do?”

  “Impertinent!” she scolded and tossed her head. “For that, you need to crawl out here and bend over.”

  She pointed imperiously with the paddle. Though she was acting, her demeanor got to him. His body felt like it belonged to someone else as he moved to obey. He wasn’t breathing right, his muscles thick and tingly all over.

  “Palms on the mattress,” she barked. “You’ll need to brace well for me.”

  He glanced at Connor, whose dreamy blue eyes were rounder than usual. The angel was naked too. When he absently rubbed his chest, Iksander noticed he was erect—so erect that his cock shuddered at vertical.

  Maybe Connor hadn’t seen Georgie go full dominatrix before tonight. Evidently, he found it inspiring too. Iksander tried not to groan at that commonality between them.

  “Better do what Georgie says,” his other lover advised. “You wouldn’t want her to be too hard on you.”

  Iksander snorted through his nose. Too hard was precisely what he hoped for.

  Georgie swung and caught his right buttock.

  He gasped and rubbed the muscle, the impact catching him by surprise. The paddle’s swing had whistled, the force with which it hit him resounding through every single nerve in his ass and some in his cock as well. His tip was abruptly wet, excitement welling there helplessly.

  He guessed Georgie wasn’t messing around.

  “More or less,” she said, her tone too harsh to resemble a question.

  He stared at her, dazzled and perplexed. She was beautiful like this: flushed and in charge and radiating authority. That wasn’t an act, or not completely. Georgie had power beyond her magic; had the sort of confidence that didn’t come from titles or accidents of birth. Her confidence was that of a woman conscious of her own skills and usefulness.

  He wondered, just for a moment, if she knew this about herself.

  “More force or less,” she repeated.

  “More,” he said, shaking himself as he understood. “I can take more than that.”

  Her smile was smoky, her lavender eyes half veiled by her red lashes. She stroked the edge of the paddle suggestively. His body reacted with a shiver.

  “Please, Georgie,” he added.

  Her lashes rose as her eyes darkened.

  “Wait for me,” Connor said.

  She was willing, so he climbed onto the bed in front of Iksander, his aroused body more tantalizing than the sultan could stand right then.

  “Don’t touch him,” Georgie warned. “Just for now, Our Majesty is mine.”

  Connor’s mouth quirked in approval. “I like him being yours. It’s fun to watch, besides which I can take care of me.”

  He slid his hands down his front to prove it, his fingers weaving together beneath his balls while his thumbs rubbed the sides of his monster shaft. Without thinking, Iksander licked his lips. He remembered how sweet sucking him off was.

  “No,” Connor said, his voice assertive too. “This time you’re all for Georgie.”

  Iksander’s body tensed, sexual energy buzzing out from his bones. What was it about being told he couldn’t have something?

  “Ready?” Georgie asked.

  He looked back at her. “Yes,” he said breathlessly.

  She drew her arm back and walloped him. That was so good he gasped. She spanked him again, lower on the same cheek. He twitched at the burn of impact, at the near instant healing rush. The sounds her actions made were unmistakable for any other act. It should have been humiliating. Maybe it was a bit. Mostly, though, it shocked his lust onto a plane so high it rendered shame irrelevant.

  “You need discipline,” she said, somehow intuiting his thoughts. “You need me to spank you.”

  He groaned as the blows continued, as he trembled with enjoyment. She rained them around his hindquarters until the abused flesh pulsed like it was on fire.

  “You need this,” she repeated. “And you need it from me.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, the word coming out a croak.

  She’d pushed him to the point where he couldn’t bear not to take some pleasure. His hips began to lower. He was going to rub them against the bed.

  “No,�
� she ordered, grabbing him from behind and kneeing his legs wider. His arousal climbed even higher at her roughness. “Hold on a little longer. I don’t want you to give in yet.”

  Sweat stung him when he blinked. The severity of her expression, the will that blazed out from her, was everything he could have asked and more. She was into this, the same as Connor was. Nothing in him, no matter how dark or hard, repulsed her.

  “I love you,” he said.

  She pursed her mouth. He sensed her fighting not to break character.

  “You should,” she said gruffly. “I deserve it.”

  He smiled, and she rolled her eyes.

  “I think you should let me fuck you now,” he said. “Since, as you say, I’m all yours.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I’m not done spanking you.”

  “If you’re under me, you could spank me at the same time.”

  He saw the idea hit her, the pink that stained her cheeks and lips heightening. “I’ll probably do it hard.”

  “So will I,” he promised.

  He grabbed her as she began to laugh, flinging her onto her back on the mattress no more than a foot from where Connor knelt.

  The angel held himself as he had before, his testicles hefted on his fingers, his shaft vibrating thickly between his stroking thumbs. His cock was noticeably darker, its bulbous head shiny with pre-come. He must have had more self-control than Iksander. If he’d been trickling that fast and hot, he couldn’t have resisted rubbing off an orgasm.

  “Do her good,” Connor said when Iksander wrenched his eyes upward. “I want to watch and get myself off with you.”

  Iksander swallowed. “You like pleasuring yourself.”

  “He hasn’t been doing it very long,” Georgie said. “Masturbating is kind of a kink for him.”

  Iksander shook his head in bemusement. All three of them were freaks.