Nuë and the Djinn Ch. 05

Nuë. He knew she wasn't dancing for the sorcerer, but Ezrel didn't. She offered her body, offered Mihel her spirit, arousing him as she always did. Arousing all the men around her, because Nuë's light was the brightest he'd ever seen. They thought it was her body, and it was, but it wasn't just that. It was what she told them about herself when she danced.

And the way Ezrel's body was reacting, the sorcerer heard her offer. Mihel willed the sorcerer to think about it, to wonder why a temple virgin would single out any man, much less an unattractive figure such as himself, but Ezrel wasn't thinking with with his head right now.

Nuë's eyes flashed up and met his, Mihel feeling that glance all through the sorcerer's body. Her hips were moving, sweeping around, the mood in the street entirely lustful, men getting restless. Luta's eyes were roaming, and that wasn't show, his brother tense to see the crowd's reaction. Luta had seen her dance before. He knew what she did to men.

"Bring me into the spirit world, Djinn," Ezrel said low.

Ezrel had taken the bait. Mihel brought them, Ezrel seeing only the world he was used to seeing. They were walking to where Nuë was standing with Luta when the fight broke out.

Luta had arranged this, too. And if there was someone who could cause chaos, it was his brother.

Pretending to be distracted, Luta turned toward the fight, taking several steps away from Nuë, looking elsewhere, and then several more steps. Luta couldn't maintain this level of careless inattention for long without betraying the ruse, and Ezrel had frozen. Surely the sorcerer would see this for the trap that it was.

But no, he'd just been getting up his courage.

The sorcerer broke their stillness, walking behind Nuë quickly, bringing his hand across her mouth. "Bring her with us into the spirit world, Djinn," he said quickly as Luta pretended to turn and see them, yelling when they disappeared.

Mihel's arms were full of Nuë, who was struggling against him. He could smell her, feel her in his arms, her curves under his hands. She seemed less fragile than she usually did, Ezrel smaller than Mihel's true body. Ezrel's heart was pounding as Luta made a show of it, rushing around.

Mihel was going to kill his brother if he had to drag himself from death to do it.

The sorcerer brought Nuë, who was putting up a fight, useless against the strength Mihel brought to the sorcerer. Luta must have found a place that he planned the sorcerer to see and to take her, and Mihel saw it as Ezrel did. An open doorway, the building empty, probably why Luta had chosen this street. To the sorcerer, it would look like luck. Ezrel began dragging Nuë toward it.

Someone yelled behind them, the sorcerer turning. A man was running, two men chasing him. He had a small purse in his hands. A thief. Seeing the open door and not seeing Ezrel or Nuë, he darted into the doorway, closing it as the two men arrived, looking everywhere.

Ezrel had frozen. He began walking with her, lifting and carrying her, effortless with Mihel's strength.

Mihel realized. Back to the tower. That's where Ezrel was taking Nuë. This wasn't going to be something quick in a back room as Luta had planned. Mihel knew what Luta had intended to do. Bring Nuë to him so Mihel could join with her. Mihel would be freed, Luta killing the sorcerer by surprise and healing Mihel, who would still have an arrow in him.

This was one of Luta's bad plans, one of his very bad plans, and it was going wrong just as Luta's bad plans tended to. Mihel wanted to look around for Luta, to see if his brother could somehow stop the sorcerer, but Mihel couldn't move his head, not in control of this body. He could feel Nuë's heart pounding. And he was aroused. Nuë had always aroused him, and the sorcerer was aroused and it was mixed up in Mihel head, in the body he rode.

The sorcerer was already hard, gasping his breath, taking her to the last place he and his brother would have chosen to fight such a powerful sorcerer even if the sorcerer didn't already have Mihel's incora. His brave incora, so beautiful.

The tower would be guarded. Luta wouldn't be able to get past the wards quickly, and by the time he did, he'd be stripped of most of the things that made him dangerous. Until Luta made it to them, Nuë would be trapped with the sorcerer and Mihel trapped inside the sorcerer.

If the sorcerer tried to have sex with Nuë before Luta arrived, Mihel might be freed, yes, Mihel and Nuë joined, yes, but it would leave Nuë alone with Ezrel. And Ezrel would be alerted, the tools of his magic around him and Mihel wounded. Because that was the kind of thing that happened with Luta's bad, dangerous plans.

The sorcerer made the last of the stairs, walking through and closing the door behind himself, releasing Nuë. "Bring us back into the world, djinn," the sorcerer panted, releasing her.

He shifted, and Mihel was looking out of the sorcerer's eyes at Nuë in the gold silk, her golden hair and skin, ripe thrusting breasts and round hips, her bare feet. The sorcerer's body was responding, but Mihel felt all of it like it was his own body. So beautiful.

"You are beautiful, temple virgin," Ezrel rasped.

Nuë wouldn't speak the language of Heltas. She would have to pretend she was refusing to speak to him. She backed away as the sorcerer began to advance.

"What's your name?" Ezrel demanded.

She didn't answer. Ezrel lashed out, a backhanded blow that struck Nuë. Mihel felt it on his own knuckles. Nuë flew to the ground, looking up at him, her hair everywhere across her face. Ezrel advanced on her, Nuë going still, searching his eyes. She would understand, now, maybe, what his brother had done to her, bringing her here, setting her in Ezrel's hands.

Mihel knew she was looking for him in the sorcerer's eyes, but Mihel wouldn't be in them. His spirit was bound.

Nuë got to her feet, facing him. The sorcerer's eyes were on her breasts, round and firm, her jutting nipples. She didn't move as Ezrel reached out to her, his hand trembling, his breathing heavy, his hand nearing her breast. At the last moment, Nuë pulled away from him, looking disgusted. His eyes went to her face.

Ezrel stepped back and began speaking words. As much as an idiot as he was, this sorcerer was the most deadly Mihel had ever met. For the first time, Mihel heard power in the sorcerer's voice, feeling the sorcerer's spirit twisting and darkening, feeling the sorcerer's pain.

Nuë was moving slowly toward the door like she was going to try to sneak out of it. Ezrel turned to her and cast the spell, Mihel feeling the darkness leave the sorcerer and find its target.

The sorcerer said a word and Nuë stopped.

Ezrel went to her, going around her. She didn't move. Mihel felt his face pull into the familiar shape of a grin.

"You can breathe," Ezrel finally said, Nuë expressionless but her her chest rising, heaving in breath, trying to get more. "You can blink."

Nuë did so, her eyes tearing. Her face didn't change. The spell.

Ezrel approached her again, his eyes on her blank face. He touched her hair, running his fingers through it. "A beautiful golden doll." He stepped back and reached for her hand, lifting it. It hung in the air where he had put it. He reached again, putting her hand behind her head, doing the same with her other, pushing back on her raised elbows, thrusting her breasts out.

"Very nice," he said. He reached for her again, delicately pushing the golden silk away, Mihel feeling the heavy sensitivity of his cock. Their arousal was perfectly in tandem. The sorcerer tilted her head down. "Let's make sure you can see."

He traced the swells with his fingertips, Mihel feeling her soft skin. Nuë was unable to do anything, her eyes on the sorcerer's hands. The sorcerer finally hovered his fingers over her nipples and touched them gently, rubbing, tugging and plucking, little pinches. He did it for a long time, his breathing heavy. Mihel's cock--not his-- surged.

"That feels good, I know. I want to get you ready," Ezrel said, his voice calm, casual, his eyes still on her breasts.

She wouldn't understand his words, but Nuë's nipples had tightened under their fingers, a flush rising in her cheeks, her face so blank. Ezrel grunting a little, a wave of arousal going through him, Mihel feeling it with him, the sorcerer's fingers getting rougher, his cock hard now. "A beautiful blushing doll."

He reached for her throat, his other hand behind her, and bent her straight back, her hair falling almost to the floor behind her. Her breasts were pointing to the ceiling, her nipples hard. "That's better," the sorcerer said, getting over her. They bent to take her nipple in his mouth, not even having to support her, Mihel feeling his tongue running over the stiff buds.

The sorcerer went from one to the other, suckling and biting, tugging. By the time he came up, breathing roughly, they were swollen and red and hard as pebbles. The sorcerer's eyes went to her throat, to the pulse racing there. Nuë hadn't made a sound, her face never changing. Sometimes, she blinked.

Mihel didn't fight the arousal, going with it. He needed control of this body. The sorcerer stepped back, leaving her, his eyes on her breasts, and began to take off his clothes. When he was entirely naked, his cock jutting, Ezrel straightened her, Nuë standing upright again.

Ezrel put his hands at Nuë's waist and lifted her, no difficulty, Nuë stiff. He brought her to the sitting couch, putting her in front of him facing the other way, her hips against the arm. He bent her over it, Nuë's front going down at an angle, no support. Her body held there, seemingly effortless. The sorcerer came behind her. He reached, Nuë's breasts under their hands, Mihel feeling all the arousal that the sorcerer did, feeling her round firmness filling his hands. They cupped her breasts from behind and tugging on her nipples, working them.

The sorcerer stepped back, turning her head to the side and bending her down all the way down, on her elbows, Nuë staring blankly. He stepped back, drawing first one of her legs apart and then the other leg.

Ezrel approached her, bending down. He opened her pussy lips, Nuë cunt swollen and dark pink and dripping slick. Mihel's own arousal echoed the sorcerer's, her sweetness drawing him, always so much desire for her.

The sorcerer touching her all around her pussy, entering her with his finger and stroking her distended clitoris. "You're almost ready."

Mihel knew Nuë couldn't move as they continued to do it, rubbing her clit lightly, pumping his finger, adding another. She didn't make any sound, staring blankly, but she flowered open. The sorcerer pulled his finger through her slick and pushed into her ass. She never moved.

"Now you're ready," the sorcerer said.

He pulled his finger out and left her there. He went into a chest and pulled out a short stiff whip, a wave of lust going through him and through Mihel. He came around, showing it to her. She didn't move or react, staring where her head was turned as he walked slowly back behind her.

He went to the side and touched her ass with it. "You feel that?" he said, breathing hard. "Get ready."

He drew his arm back and cracked it across her ass cheeks, which jiggled, although she didn't move even a little. It left a long red mark. He did it again, grunting, breathing fast, the lines crossing her round butt, and then again.

Ezrel stopped, coming around, looking at her face, which hadn't moved, her expression nothing. His hand went to his cock, Mihel also feeling the intense pleasure as he squeezed and tugged at himself.

"You can cry now," the sorcerer said.

Nuë opened her mouth and her face animated. She shrieked, shrieking again, a long wail of pain as Ezrel began working himself, listening, pleasure going through Mihel.

"That's enough," he said, panting, the pleasure so close, Mihel too aroused.

She went silent, her face blank.

Ezrel got the whip, coming around well behind her spread legs. He extended his arm, setting the stiff end of it against her pussy, touching her clitoris. He probed her with it, her slick on the tip.

He let it fall and aimed carefully this time, tapping on her distended clitoris, the taps getting sharper and then he struck right on the sensitive nub.

Ezrel touched himself again, tugging. "You can cry now."

Nuë's cry burst from her, rising to a scream.

"Stop," the sorcerer said, the sound cutting off. He tossed the whip aside. He came close, his cock so hard he had difficulty moving it to line up in her and Mihel took control of his body.

Nuë was released. She cried out and then she was crying, her hair everywhere.

Mihel couldn't wait or he would be bound again, and he was too aroused anyway. "It's me, little incora," Mihel said, finding her and thrusting into her, the way slick and tight, so much relief.

"Mihel?" she cried, looking back at him, her body jerking with his thrusts. He had her hips, getting deeper. She cried out, pulsing on him.

"Yes," he said, leaning down and nuzzling her, thrusting, the pleasure rising. "You are so beautiful."

She got her arms under her as he reached and rubbed her nipples gently. She shuddered, beginning to meet him. Nuë hitched, his hips meeting her ass.

Mihel cried out low, already feeling the keen sensations, her pussy dragging against his cock. He thrust hard and deep, Nuë braced against the couch in front of him, his hands on her hips. It was going to be quick and rough and dirty. Joining with her like this was the darkest pleasure, arousing him unbearably as she always did, bringing him close to his release.

He leaned down, his hips pumping. "Join with me, my incora," he said into her ear, hearing the need in his own voice. "Join with me again."

Nuë cried out as he reached between her legs, keeping his fingers gentle, touching her lightly. She pulsed on him, Mihel grunting. He felt it, the pressure in this body, in this cock, beginning in his spine, his hips thrusting. He was going to come. He was going to come so hard.

He cried out, rubbing her clitoris, squeezing the tender bud as he pulled them abruptly into the other world.

Nuë came under him, frantic, her knees coming up. Her eyes closed, her pussy clamping on him. She made a sound he hadn't heard in four hundred years and that he recognized right away, his incora gone with pleasure.

Their lights were just as eager, colliding, joining, wrapping around the other, retrieving their missing parts, the pleasure so sharp and good that it wiped out everything else. Too much. She was with him. His incora was all through him and he was all through her. There was no separation between the worlds and no separation between their spirits, their bodies as joined. He lifted in her, releasing, her pussy convulsing with her pleasure, drawing him into her deeply.

The intense pleasure passed, a sense of danger. Mihel was panting. He drew out of Nuë as she collapsed in front of him.

Mihel was still in the sorcerer's body and then he wasn't in any body, unbound, naked in the world, raw and painful, too much sensation. The sorcerer stumbled back, aware of himself again, free of the possession, crying out in surprise.

Mihel's body arrived, Mihel's spirit abruptly in it, the relief of it almost obscuring everything else. Then Mihel fell to his knees, the arrow in his back, finally feeling it, so much pain.

Nuë cried out with the same pain and Mihel walled it off, protecting her from it this time, able to now that they were fully joined.

"Mihel!" she cried, straightening and staggering to him, naked. She threw her arms around him, clinging to him. Mihel opened his arms slowly and folded her to himself, so delicate and so strong, beautiful. Since he had met her so long ago, all he'd ever tried to do was to hold to her as long as possible and with everything in him.

Darkness took his vision, blood in his mouth. Walking in the highlands, he heard a voice, a woman singing by the burn, the fast creek running. He approached and saw her, black eyes, long black hair to her ass, washing. So beautiful she took his breath.

Sersha, her light the brightest he had ever seen. He revealed himself and she ran from him. He caught her easily, feeling her heart thudding against him, too aroused to wait, taking her there on the bank, her struggles exciting him beyond thought.

The arrow was deep, his breathing no good. Mihel choked, his vision hazy. He looked dimly at the sorcerer, pushing his incora aside as Ezrel yelled words and his hand shot out toward them.

Mihel took the spell in his chest. Mihel screamed, the arrow in his back nothing compared to it, unable to move from his place. His feet wouldn't move, his body.

He saw something out of the corner of his eye. His brother Luta was finally arriving, visible from getting through the wards, which would temporarily have stripped him of strength, of speed, trapping him in this world, a horrible feeling for an ifrit.

But Luta was still big, and he crashed into the sorcerer, the spell scattering. Mihel was freed from the pain. Luta had his arms around the sorcerer from behind, wrapped around him. Mihel tried to get up, to move to help his brother, and he couldn't. The sorcerer's hands flamed from below the hold, landing on Luta's arms, Luta yelling but holding on.

Nuë appeared in front of the sorcerer, naked. She had a knife, the one from the table, a twisted, wandering blade. She rushed the sorcerer and raised it high, yelling. She stabbed him, yanking it out and burying it again. She jerked it out, doing it again, furious, her light as bright as the sun. She took his breath.

Mihel couldn't hold on to it, his vision closing in on him. His head bowed. He coughed, blood falling onto the stones under him. He was shaking all over, pain like the spell was still on him. He felt the tug on his spirit, pulling him from his body, and heard Nuë cry out in fear. He looked up, barely able to, and saw her drop the knife and run to him.

Then Luta was there in front of him, saying his name, his brother's face grim as it so rarely was. Mihel met Luta's eyes, together since they'd been in their mother, twined around each other. He felt his brother's light reach out to his. Healing themselves was not a skill the Ifrit possessed. But they could heal each other, lending their light.

"I'm going to kill you," Mihel said weakly, barely a breath, blood in his throat.

"I know. Don't go anywhere, my brother," Luta said, the blue lines in his hands lighting up, warm and vital.