The Final Wish (3 page)

Then she shattered—coming so hard her head spun. Her heart hammered against her ribs and blood pumped through her ears, deafening her to all else but her own panting breath as the aftershocks sent spasms through her entire body.

She lay there for a few seconds, feeling content, yet she wanted more. Much more. She wanted to make it last. Last well into the night. Last a lifetime. Because when he made that final wish, he would be lost to her forever.

“Caleb.” His name sat on her lips like a kiss.

He rose over her and she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down against her. The hardness trapped in his pants pressed against her hip. She reached under the bottom of his shirt and dragged her nails up his back, pushing the material up. When she reached his shoulderblades he rose to his knees and lifted the shirt over his head. For a moment he just looked down at her, an uncertain expression flickering across his face as he threw the balled up material to the floor.

She rose and knelt on the bed, pressing herself against him. The hardness of his body met hers in a warm wall of muscle and skin. She ran her hand over his broad chest, brushing the dark swell of his nipples. He was smooth and hairless and soft in a way only a man could be.

He’s perfect
.

Ishari caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she traced the ridges of his abs, watching her finger slide downward until she hooked the band of his jeans. The bulge of his erection strained against the material and she scraped her nails across it. He hissed and clasped a hand behind her head, drawing her into an insistent, almost desperate kiss.

His hardness pressed against her stomach. She drew back and gazed up at him as she popped the top button on his jeans. His eyes darkened. Slowly, she slid the zipper down. He was wearing nothing underneath and his cock burst from its confines into her hand.

The smooth skin slid through her fingers as she wrapped them around the shaft. A silky drop of pre-cum beaded at the head and she gathered it on the tip of her tongue. He tasted just as sweet as she knew he would. She pushed the pants over his hips and he lay on his back so she could drag them down his legs and pull then off his feet.

Caleb clapped his hands and muted artificial light chased back the twilight gloom. “I want to see every moment of this,” he said, reaching up to cup her face.

He made to rise, but she pushed him back down, straddling his waist. “So do I.”

The muscles of his stomach rippled under her thighs as he rose on his elbows.

“You are too beautiful,” he whispered, running his hand over the furrow between her breasts. “The sight of you makes me so hard.”

His touch burned her like a brand and she wanted it to consume her. “You are the first master who hasn’t treated me like a slave.”

His face darkened with anger and she thought she’d said something wrong.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You should be worshipped, not enslaved,” he whispered against her skin.

A tear slid from her eye. “I need you inside me.”

Caleb let her go and leaned back to open a drawer in the dark table beside his bed. He pulled out a small square and opened it with his teeth. She took the condom from his hands, moved to sit on his thighs and pinched the tip of the prophylactic. She’d learned to do this from one of her masters in the fifties. He’d been fastidious about cleanness and could not bear to put his dick into any whore unprotected, as he’d told her every time he took her. But this time was different. This time her hands shook with anticipation instead of a sense of shame and worthlessness.

She carefully unrolled the latex over his thick shaft and eased it from the tip to the base. He watched her through hooded eyes. It only heightened her excitement. When she was done, Caleb placed his hands on her hips and gently lifted her while she guided his erection to her opening. She was still wet from her orgasm and his mouth—he slid into her with ease, stretching her flesh with delicious friction as the tip kissed her cervix.

He trembled beneath her, his face contorted with effort. “Don’t move,” he hissed between gritted teeth. “You feel too good. If you move it will be all over.”

She obeyed, keeping still and watching him breathe through what appeared to be the edge of agony. Finally he relaxed, then lifted his hips to thrust against her.

Ishari rocked slowly. He gripped her thighs and lifted his hips to meet her. He sat up and ran his hands up her back, as if he were committing every inch of her to memory. He looked into her eyes as he took her bottom lip between his and sucked for one breathtaking heartbeat.

“I need to see you, taste you, touch you—feel your heart beating against mine.” His voice rasped over her skin like a caress.

She closed her eyes lest he see the overwhelming emotion welling inside her. He could never be hers. Soon he would be gone and she couldn’t bear to think of who would be her next master.

Because there was always a next.

But right here and right now, there was only Caleb. And her.

His cock filled her, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside that made her cunt clench and sent delicious ripples up her spine.

Ishari rocked her hips back and forwards, riding him in a slow, steady rhythm. He swept her hair back from her face and rubbed the pad of his thumb across her cheek as he kissed her again.

“You are too beautiful,” he whispered.

She smiled down at him. “You said that already.”

He smiled back. “I can never say it enough.”

One of his hands found her left breast and squeezed. She hooked her ankles together behind his back and tightened her grip as she leaned back to allow him better access.

But the fingers left her nipple as he took hold and flipped her onto her back with her legs still wrapped around his hips. The angle pushed him even further inside, something she thought was impossible. The pleasurable sensation bordered on pain as he withdrew slowly, then surged into her again.

He rose up on his arms and watched his cock sliding in and out of her, his expression full of rapture. She brought her head up to watch their fucking too. It brought her so close to the edge, so close. Just not quite.

Just a little more
.

Her hand fluttered over her stomach, heading toward her pubis, then stilled.

“Don’t stop, baby … touch yourself … come for me,” he panted between his quickening strokes.

She did.

Her fingers had barely brushed her clit when she exploded with such force that she came twice in a row. One after the other. In quick succession. And still she wanted more. She wanted all of him. Inside and out.

In her … around her … over her.

The pressure built as she worked her clit for a third orgasm. His strokes almost slammed into her. Flesh hitting flesh had never sounded so good.

Caleb’s arms trembled against her sides as he dropped his head to watch her fingers sliding over her clit again.

Almost there …

“Almost there,” she groaned aloud.

He quickened his pace and stilled as the third orgasm slammed through her, his own shuddering moan announcing his arrival at the same point.

His weight collapsed on her. She could feel his racing heartbeat thudding against her chest, matching her own thundering pulse as he panted against her throat.

After a few seconds, Caleb’s breathing slowed and he rolled them onto their sides, staying buried deep within. He brushed her mussed hair back behind her ear and searched her face.

Ishari’s eyes blurred in the aftermath of her last orgasm, her body and soul satiated beyond anything she’d experienced before. Never had any of her masters treated her with such tenderness, such love. Another tear escaped her lower lid and slid down her cheek. “I wish I was free to stay like this in your arms forever,” she whispered.

Caleb cupped her face, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of her as he wiped away the teardrop with his thumb. “I wish we were both free to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Her gold cuffs heated against her skin, and then pain and a blinding light seared her brain as the power flowed through her. This was it.
His final wish.

When the light receded, she opened her eyes expecting to find herself back in the palace. Instead Caleb’s concerned eyes searched her own. Ishari lifted a hand to her face to find her Djinn cuffs gone. She felt different, somehow lighter and yet not, as if she was more and less at the same time.

“What just happened?” Caleb croaked.

“You’ve freed me.” She looked up at him with incredulous disbelief.

“The wish!” His face split into a grin as he grabbed her face between his hands. “Sorry brother, but I used this one for myself.”

She remembered the words of his wish as he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. The joy in her swelled to overflowing when she realised there would be a tomorrow, and the next day and the next.

For the rest of our lives.

Ryan stumbled out of the beach house and onto sand. His head spun from booze and drugs.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he yelled into the darkness after the exotic beauty he’d followed from the bar.

Only the sound of the breaking surf answered him.

Maybe she went for a swim.

He smiled. A midnight ocean fuck might be just the ticket.

Ryan chuckled to himself, stumbling forward. The water’s edge was still a few feet away when he slipped off his shirt. The button and zipper proved a little more elusive but he finally managed to get them undone and pushed the black denim down over his hips, only to catch the legs on his shoes. He tumbled backwards onto his arse and laid down the sand. He just wanted to catch his breath first and wait for his head to stop spinning.

Shit, I’m wasted.
He could just see Caleb’s disapproving frown at his current state especially after their argument earlier this evening over that girl he brought home.

God, his little brother had turned into such an old man lately. Ryan frowned and closed his eyes.

Such a dick …

He woke feeling wetness seeping in around him and groaned.
Fuck, don’t tell me I’ve pissed the bed.

Except Ryan wasn’t in his bed. He was lying on wet sand with the black surf surging over his bare legs as the stars twinkled above. Apart from the jeans tangled around his ankles he was completely naked and had no idea how he’d gotten there. As he pushed into a sitting position something hard dug into his hand. He lifted it nearer to his face and squinted at it in the light of the full moon. It looked familiar, very familiar. It looked a lot like that stupid little bottle Caleb brought back from Marrakesh.

What the fuck was it doing here?

Shit.
He must have stolen it to annoy Caleb. His brother treasured the bloody thing above anything else. And Ryan seemed to enjoy doing all he could these days to piss Caleb off.

A sudden pang of guilt and remorse washed over him. Caleb was the talent behind the band and the jealousy seemed to gnaw at Ryan’s soul some days. All he did was sing the words Caleb wrote to the music that Caleb composed. Caleb was the reason for their success because the little shit had more talent in his little finger than Ryan had in his whole body.

But it wasn’t Caleb’s fault. And he didn’t help much by being so strung out on drugs and booze.

No. That was all his own doing. Well, now could be the perfect time to make something right. He could return this little bottle back to its rightful place and hope Caleb hadn’t even noticed it was missing.

Ryan rubbed the wet sand off the blue glass to find writing etched into the bottle. “Mari,” he read out loud.

The surface heated in his hands and shook. The most stunning hottie he’d ever seen, coloured silks barely covering her luscious body, appeared before him and bowed low in the surf lapping at his feet.

“Master. I am Mari, your Djinn,” the woman said.

What. The. Fuck.

He must be more fucked up than he thought. Now he was hallucinating some erotic version of
I Dream of Jeannie
. He reached out to touch her and his fingertips tingled with the contact.

She’s definitely real.

“Who the hell
are
you?” he asked climbing to his feet.

She rose to her full height, though inclined her head. “I am yours to command, master. At least until you’ve made your three wishes.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry, master.” Uncertainty flashed across her face. “Please forgive me if I have offended you. This is my first time.”

“No, it’s not you,” he said, instantly sorry, and ran his hand through his hair. “I just wish I could stop fucking things up.”

The gold cuffs on her wrists glowed and she held her arms up toward the sky. “Done.”

Tracey has been reading from a young age and loves a mix of action, adventure and romance. She came to writing erotic fiction on a dare and discovered that not only was it fun, but she had a bit of a knack for it. She is a wife, a mum to two grown boys as well as three cats and a cute pug called Colin. She also writes under the name Tracie Sommers.