48. The Library

{Naya}

By the time I reached the library, my heart was pounding. Mostly likely because ever since we began my training, Uri and I hadn't had much time alone together. Add that to the tension that's been steadily building between us since dinner and it made perfect sense that my heart was throbbing and my fire was already stoked for what the rest of the night would bring.

I quietly let myself inside of Zayn's library. With its dome shaped ceiling, spiraling staircases, and mysterious lighting, this room was like something out of a fairytale. Half of the wall gave way to ceiling-high glass windows that overlooked the gardens.

Uri was standing by one of these windows, scanning the scene below. He was still wearing his chef's uniform, but his hair was free from the bun he had it in earlier.

Near one of the green leather easy chairs was a tall black hookah, already lit.

"It looks like you planned for us to be here for a while," I said.

Uri turned around and looked me over like it was his first time seeing me all night.

I teased, "Does this mean I'm going to miss the next four courses? I was actually looking forward to dessert."

He stepped away from the window and towards me. The room's unevenly distributed lamps cast interesting shadows across his face as he moved past the walls of books.

"Of course not. I had our last few courses brought up here. I thought we could share them together."

Before I could utter a word of gratitude, Uri fitted his hands to my hips and said, "Naomi, you in this dress . . ."

I grinned. "You can thank Portia. She forced me to buy it."

He glanced down at his own attire. "Now I regret not changing out of this uniform. I didn't have much time to get here after we sent out the fourth course. I could have changed with magic, but I'm trying to not rely on menial conjurations these days. When I'm human I won't have access to instant wardrobe changes."

I matched Uri's hands and guided them tighter around my waist, drawing him in.

"While I think that's very responsible of you, there's no need to feel regret. I personally think you look great. Plus, this is more fun to take off."

My hands wandered up to the top of Uri's shirt. They hesitated on the first button, expecting him to interrupt and guide me to the sofa so that we could dine. But he did no such thing; instead, his grenadine-tinted eyes followed my hands as they folded over the buttons.

I unfastened the double buttons until he could shrug off the jacket. Under that was a thin t-shirt, which Uri swiftly pulled over his head. My fire reacted keenly when he freed his upper body and simultaneously rumpled his hair.

Uri tried to kiss me, but I held him back so I could linger for a while on his lean musculature and tattoo-like veins. The shadows played games against his marred skin.

"What is it?" Uri asked, a touch of self-consciousness in his voice.

I dragged my palms down his pectorals, slowing but not stopping when I reached his abdomen.

"You've put on more muscle since I last saw you without a shirt. You used to be a lot skinnier than this. Not that I minded." I fitted my fingers in the tight space behind his belt and zipper. Uri reacted accordingly, forgetting my comment and collapsing on my lips.

Normally, his advances would easily draw out my fire, but I no longer had difficulty compartmentalizing that part of me. The little blue fire was locked away and under control unless I wanted it to come out to play. And I had decided that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Tonight Uri was mine.

It was evident that Uri exerted his own effort to keep his suit of fire in check. Every few seconds a throaty groan or a plume of smoke would escape from between his often clenched teeth. This hunger sparked me to take the lead. I slowed down each kiss and traced a path away from Uri's mouth, as if responding to the call of the cryptic veins etched below his collarbone.

Heat skittered and pulsed across the surface of each design I touched. Uri had given up trying to hide his excitement. He exhaled a steady stream of smoke and sighed my name while I continued my journey south.

My knees touched the floor. I had reached my destination. Even over Uri's pants, my cheek brushed against the hard organ underneath. Lost in the scent of man, denim and fire, I slid my hands along his backside and sank my face against the tight fabric.

Uri fingers scraped against my scalp as he collected a handful of hair. Breathy curses followed. My mouth watered when he rocked his hips in silent eagerness.

I brought my hands around to tease Uri's belt. Looking up at him, I asked him if this was what he wanted.

Eyes bathed in grenadine red, jaw locking and unlocking in vexation, he nodded.

"Say it."

A question formed on the djinni's countenance.

I kissed the tight fabric again. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want."

Uri's lips parted, but he looked as if he couldn't find the words. Because it was so fun to watch him struggle, I easily got to my feet and fixed my dress.

Mockingly, I said, "You tricked me into being your djinni with the very intention of telling me what to do. And now it's become too hard for you? I'm going to go back to the party."

The look on Uri's face before I turned around was priceless. I didn't really have any intentions of going back downstairs, but if I was going to be on my knees that night, he needed to at least learn how to talk dirty.

I made my way to the door quickly to strengthen the bluff. As I pulled on the knob, I almost stole another look just to see the shock on his face. No sooner that I had opened the door did it abruptly yank itself from my grip and slam nearly inches from my face.

This time I was surprised when something grabbed me by the hair. I couldn't control the gasp that escaped me when the force spun me around and my back crashed against the door.

Uri's sudden closeness caused the smoke to burn my eyes. He waited while I coughed and caught my breath. Then I looked down and unintentionally swallowed another cloud of smoke.

Uri stood before me buck-fucking-naked.

Through the smoke screen, I stared at his unburdened package. Heat from my fire threatened to fill me to the top when he whispered into my ear.

"Naomi, I want you to suck me off."

+++

{Uriel}

Uriel welcomed the calming effect of the hookah. He shared the pipe with Naya, who was curled up against him on the couch, eating the dessert course in between drags.

The djinni slouched further into the cushion. His pants were back on, his belt and shirts still discarded on the floor. Naya had never taken off her dress, but one of the straps was currently sliding down her shoulder. She didn't seem to notice, too distracted by the cuisine.

"You know," Naya said as she licked sauce from her fingers, "I was never into the food fetish thing, but it is such a turn on that you can cook this well."

Uriel sighed happily as he looped an arm around her shoulder and adjusted the strap on her dress. After sharing a brief kiss, Naya said, "You've been real quiet since . . ." she averted her eyes. " . . . well, since you put your pants back on. Is something wrong?"

Uriel, who had not realized this, wanted to put any doubt she had to rest.

"You know that I've spent most of my life enslaved. My masters made me perform a lot of magic that I didn't agree with. In addition to the magic they demanded, whether male or female, many of them also required sexual satisfaction."

Naya sat up straighter. "Seriously? I mean, I remember you hinting at it when we first met, but I didn't know what to make of it."

Uriel dragged his finger along Naya's forearm and kept his gaze there. "Yeah . . . ."

Naya drew a cautious breath. "So what does that have to do with –"

"No one's ever," Uriel tried to find the right words, "been so generous to me."

He looked up, meeting Naya's shy smile with his own. They bent towards each other, sharing bashful, secret laughs.

Eventually Naya straightened up and took a drag on the pipe. "Well I hope that one day you return my generosity, as you put it."

Uriel reached over her for one of the dessert plates. Naya's eyes widened at the suggestive methods he used to consume the morsel.

"I look forward to it."

Naya chuckled again. "Tell me, are we even going to get a chance to be alone like this when we're in the desert? Ritsu will be with us and we'll be surrounded by sand dunes."

The desert.

Uriel groaned and leaned forward on his knees, folding his hands and resting his face in them. There was a clunking sound as Naya put down the plate and the hose to the hookah.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Uriel shook his head. "No . . . I'm scared, Naya."

"Of what? Us going too fast?"

"No. I'm afraid of the desert. Of what it could do to me . . . to us."

Naya remained silent, giving him the space to explain further. After a few more frustrated exhales, Uriel went on. "That place is where I spent most of my early years as a djinni. I guess you could say I grew up there. But growing up as a rogue djinni is not what you think. I was confused most of the time. My fire controlled where we went and how long we stayed there. I had no real form yet. Many of the djinn that I met tried to take advantage of me. Much of what I remember is a blur. The only thing that I do remember is being angry. All the time."

He sighed again. "I just don't want to go back to that. I feel like if something out there rubs me the wrong way, you won't be able to recognize me."

"I think I understand," Naya said. "But you're forgetting that the more time we spend together, the more our bond grows. And the more that happens, the more I can help you when your suit of fire starts to overwhelm you. Right?"

He lifted his head and met her eyes.

"Right."

The djinni sounded a lot more confident than he truly felt in the moment.