Nuë and the Djinn Ch. 06

She arched, his fingers on her clitoris, tugging. She wanted more. She wanted it so badly. "Yes," she said. "Please."

His mouth went to her nipples, Nuë offering them. It all felt so good. She squirmed in pleasure, feeling how swollen she was becoming. She was getting close. Her eyes were glazed, half-closed, her voice needy when his hands stopped and he appeared over her, huge.

"Don't stop," she breathed.

He shoved her knees up and pressing his sex into her. Nuë's breath stuttered as he filled her, relentless. When he wanted it, he started to enter her, and he didn't stop until he was inside her. Her sex felt full and he began thrusting.

Mihel was watching her, that same look on his face that sent her stomach sinking, but now she relaxed under him. letting him do what he wanted, meeting his eyes. She arched, urging him as he pushed into her. He grunted, his hands landing on her hips, stilling her, and then he was thrusting into her faster.

Nuë made a noise she didn't know she was going to, a satisfied, inviting sound. He got over her, kissing her. She was going to reach the pleasure.

He straightened and stilled and Nuë cried out, so close. "More, Mihel," she demanded. She didn't want him to stop. She was arching and pressing, trying to move on him. Mihel was still, inside her body, his eyes on her as she thrust her hips under him, spreading her legs more, wiggling and arching. "Mihel."

He looked at her sex, reaching and spreading her lips, not thrusting, huge in her. He began to play with her above where he entered her, his thumb rubbing, his fingers going to her nipples. She went still, closing her eyes as he began to move again. He pushed down, her clitoris meeting where he was pushing into her, the friction beginning her climb again. She met him, a delicious rhythm.

"Yes," she agreed, close to it, so close.

He gave a series of deep thrusts, his hips jerking, and she felt the blossoming of it, pleasure that made her open her legs as much as she could, that made her swell, her back arching, her breasts coming up.

"That's good, little incora. Come on me," he breathed. He thrust hard, holding, his body going rigid.

She felt him reach for her in a different way, felt him get a hold of her in that other world and do something and pleasure came. It wasn't just in her body. It was in her mind because she wanted to fuck, yes, she wanted sex with him, wanted him to do things to her. She wanted to do it again right away, as soon as they were done. Lust and need filled her.

The rich, dark thoughts brought pleasure. Nuë cried out and then her voice rose, turning frantic. Pleasure, too much pleasure. It kept going on and she didn't want it to stop. She writhed in it, her breath choking out, still straining. She couldn't think, it felt so good. More of it. Dimly, she heard Mihel cry out several times, and he lifted in her. She was pulsing, straining again. She liked it. She was coming so hard. She never imagined she could feel this.

Mihel made a deep, satisfied noise. Then she was pulsing again, the pleasure slowly releasing and she could breathe. She drew in and voiced a cry of reaction. She pulsed and shivered hard. She felt a satisfied twinge deep in her sex and she strained again briefly, pulsing the last of it.

"I know," Mihel said, panting over her. "I've been waiting to do that since I found you again, incora." He paused to breathe. "I don't think I've thought about anything else for the last four hundred years."

The pleasure shifted, her belly warmed. She twinged again briefly. He drew out of her, still taking his own weight. She brought her knees down. "What was that?" she said, amazed she could speak.

He smiled lazily, cupping her breast, his breathing finally slowing. "We're joined, my light. The pleasure is part of that. It was fast. I couldn't wait."

Nuë felt a little overwhelmed. "It felt good," she said, not finding other words.

He laughed, nodding. Then he sobered. "I have something to say to you."

It was rarely something good when people said that. "What?" she said, wary.

He reached and touched her cheek. "I never married you, Nuë. Not in your first life, or your second. I could have this time. But we've always been joined in my eyes and I didn't think we needed a human ceremony for you to know that. If I could go back, I would do it. I would see you in your Sidean marriage garment and you would give me your maiden collar in the ceremony."

Nuë felt a stab of hurt, looking down, her eyes filling unexpectedly. He tipped her chin, seeming surprised. He leaned down and put his forehead on hers. "Forgive me, my light."

"I forgive you," Nuë said, still feeling the hurt. She set it aside. She wondered if in her previous lives she had felt the same, unmarried but willing to endure it to be with him.

#

Mihel was studying Nuë's face, surprised to see so much hurt still in her for that. She had never indicated before how much this meant to her, not in either of her other lives with him. He suddenly worried that his incora had kept this secret from him, a hidden pain. He reached to touch her cheek again.

Her hand came out, grasping his wrist, hers small on it. "What is that?" she said.

He looked at the delicate white line around his wrist, below the blue spirit markings on his hands, pleased to see it there again, very pleased. It would be on his other wrist as well.

She saw her own, her eyes getting wide again, pushing at him. Mihel obliged, shifting so she could bring up her other hand, the dark blue bands, wider on her, looking beautiful. It made him feel like everything was right again to see them there. He took her hand and kissed the line on the inside of her delicate wrist.

"We have come together in our bodies now, as well," he told her. "It's what happens when an ifrit and an incora are joined, Nuë."

He was pleased to see she liked them. Now that he remembered, they'd always been important to her. Nuë grabbed his hand, looking at the white line on his wrist again, turning it over. She pushed at him again, Mihel's mouth twitching, and he sat up, giving her his other wrist.

She inspected them both, her golden head bent. He ached sometimes to look at her. She dropped his wrists and pushed them away. She looked at her own again, seeming to marvel, tracing them with her fingers. She looked up, her face cautious. "You only have these with me?"

"Yes, Nuë. It's a part of the joining, as I said."

"There's nobody else has your bracelets?" she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Nobody else, incora," he agreed. She'd asked him the same thing her last life, when she was Cao. "Only you."

"What does incora mean in the language the ifrit speak?" she demanded.

He shrugged, looking for translation. "The one spirit that's joined with mine," he said.

She suddenly looked very satisfied, nodding to herself that way she did, just like she always had, Mihel recognizing her mannerisms. In a moment, to his surprise, her spirit cleared completely. She was happy now. "Then we're married," she announced, lying back. She gestured, casual. "We've always been married, since we first joined long ago."

He smiled slowly, coming over her again. "We are?"

"Yes," she said, absolutely sure, confident now. "I want more clothing, Mihel, and I need new boots."

He laughed, leaning down to kiss her mouth, Nuë looking so pleased with herself when he came up that he laughed again. "I will get you anything you want, my light. Jewels, fine silks and cashmere, a herd of horses."

"No, just boots. And I want a new tunic of good wool for cold weather. And a new cloak. And a new knife, better quality. I'll also need several pairs of pants. And you make jokes, but it wouldn't be bad to have some horses. They eat the grass and don't require too much. They're strong for work. You can always sell horses if you need to. If you had to, you could eat them."

Mihel didn't comment. He didn't think he'd ever be so desperate as to eat a horse. Then he grinned, feeling a wave. This was just practical to a Sidean. Nuë was always going to think that way. It was how she'd been raised. It was what a Sidean did, what they thought of, their lives intertwined with the animals.

He would keep horses for Nuë the way Cao, the body Nuë had ridden before this one, had required ducks. Because they laid eggs, she had said. Sometimes she would drive them ahead of her with a stick with the curved head, down the small lanes in the mountains and he would come and fuck her in the long grass. And, in the end, Cao said, if you had to, you could eat them.

Just as Sersha, his incora's body before that, had wanted goats, Mihel going out and capturing the wild creatures before she told him she needed a certain kind that were tame. He'd had to go to human herders to find them. For the milk to make cheese, Sersha had said. You would have a long time to starve with goats, she had said, and, in the end, if you had to, in full agreement with her two selves-to-come, you could eat them.

His incora was the same spirit, every time. She didn't have a name, not like ifrit. She just was, nameless, without memory, completely herself, distinct. She wove in and out of this world like a thread stitch, not recalling her short lives before, not even aware she'd lived them. Like all her kind, the light of her spirit was a pure white, fragile and otherworldly. Humans were strange and beautiful that way.

And since he'd first joined with his incora, she'd loved to talk during sex. It made him crazy when she did it. It aroused him so much. She always told him exactly what she was feeling and what she wanted and then she abandoned herself to the pleasure and told him all about that, too.

He reached for her hand, pulling it down to his cock, her fingers wrapping around him. He pulsed to feel her touch, hardening. Nuë stroked him, looking down, curious, his arousal rising as rapidly. He was thick in her hand now. She ran her hand up his length, squeezing, Mihel's breathing deepening. He hardened as she explored, releasing his breath.

He came over her, spreading her legs, mounting her, careful of his weight. He slowly entered her body, Nuë hitching, her knees coming up. She was still wet from the earlier joining, still sensitive. He rode her gently to listen to his incora ask for what she wanted, then beg, and then demand it, crying out impatiently, urging him with her hips.

"More, Mihel. Not so slow. Harder."

The deep pleasure came and swept him away with it, never any less, and brought him back to shore, his body feeling good, good as only an ifrit who had exhausted himself on his incora could feel.

He watched as she got up naked, going to the water, cool now, and cleaning herself. She stepped out. He rose, coming behind her, drawing her warm and naked form to himself. "Get dressed," he said. "I want to take you shopping in Heltas."

"All right," she agreed. "Where is Luta?"

"In a brothel, I imagine."

"What's a brothel?"

"A place where whores sell sex."

"I don't understand. What's a whore?"

"A person who sells sex for money."

She seemed to understand. Nuë whirled around to face him, her face flaming, surprising him. She opened her mouth, seemed to remember something, and made a sound of frustration, closing it. Her eyes narrowed. "Luta," she said.

#

It was so much fun having his incora in Heltas that Mihel wondered why he'd never brought her here before. It was too far from his mountains, and the slavery here troubled him, terrible violence and the spirits of people unwilling, so much like being bound.

Ifrit brought jewels from their mountains. Mihel always had money. He took her from merchant to merchant, feeding her things, buying her anything that she looked at until she told him not to anymore. Then he bought it for her anyway when she wasn't looking and gave it to her, Nuë scolding him.

He carried what she got, putting the things in a bag he carried over his shoulder, getting heavier, his incora unencumbered.

Her cheeks were flushed, so beautiful she drew eyes wherever she went, but even with his spirit lines hidden and his eyes appearing a muddled brown, Mihel was still larger than most men and nobody approached her. He touched her constantly, his large hand on her waist, taking her hand, touching her braids, Nuë looking up at him, seeming pleased.

People looked at her blue bracelets, but he thought they passed them off as a part of her strangeness, still dressed as a Sidean, looking Heltasian with her golden skin and hair. She didn't seem to care at all, his incora's spirit so bright that she dazzled him. She was humming, looking at everything, going like the tiny delicate birds no larger than his thumb, flower to flower. He translated for her, any question she had, anything she wanted to say to these people.

She stopped when she saw them. Mihel looked. He saw the Sidean horses for trade. Then he saw the man, Nuë seeing him at the same time. Duvin, from Pashi tribe. She froze.

"We can leave, my light," Mihel said to her quietly.

"No," she said. She moved toward the man.

Mihel looked around, finding his moment, shifting. He followed her. The Sidean man was speaking to a Heltasian in the trade tongue.

"Hello, Duvin," Nuë said her language when he was done.

He whirled around and stopped, shocked. "Nuë?"

She smiled at him, nodding. "It's good to see you."

He was looking at her, and his eyes lingered on her throat, obviously not seeing her maiden collar. He looked embarrassed and also confused.

"I--Nuë, I was told you...I was told you were attacked by a mountain elemental, a demon who--. How are you here?"

"He's not a demon, Duvin. We're married. We are in Heltas together. I want to ask you to do something."

Duvin was shaking his head. He was a handsome man, well made and tall. "You are married?"

Nuë nodded, smiling at him again. She looked so happy that Duvin seemed even more doubtful. "Yes," Nuë said. 
"You know Levsa, the mechi of Fada tribe?"

"Of course."

"I would like to ask you to give her a message from me. I will pay you, Duvin."

"It's not necessary, Nuë. I will carry any message you'd like."

She smiled at him again, Duvin looking knocked down. Mihel frowned, seeing the similarities in their spirits. This was the man she would have chosen, he realized, if he hadn't claimed his incora. Mihel moved closer to her. It wouldn't have been a great love between them, not for her--Nuë was his incora, and she had returned for him, not for this man--but Duvin's spirit was clear and shining like hers. He would have loved her deeply and she would have probably felt a strong friendship and attachment.

She reached into the pocket of her tunic and handed him a small bag. "Tell my aunt that my life is full and that I sing again. That she was wrong and I have all I ever wanted. That I won't see her again, but that I think of her, and to look for my spirit in her dreams. This is gold that she gave me when I left Fada tribe. I don't need it. Will you give it to her, Duvin?"

Mihel saw Duvin's eyes go to the blue band on her wrist.

"Yes, Nuë," Duvin said, nodding, and Mihel didn't see any lying in him. He was a good man. He looked worried. "Where is your husband? He lets you in the market alone. Doesn't he protect you?"

Mihel appeared behind her, not bothering to cover the spirit lines on his hands, his eyes shining blue. Duvin's eyes came up and widened. He took a step back, his hand going to his knife at his waist.

"Don't fear for her, Duvin of Pashi tribe," Mihel said.

Nuë looked up at Mihel and Mihel smiled to see her face, her spirit radiant. He touched her cheek, seeing Duvin's eyes go to the white band on his wrist. Mihel kissed her on the top of her head, seeing Duvin's eyes shifting between them now.

"You are a demon," Duvin said to Mihel, but he sounded uncertain.

"I'm not a demon," Mihel said. "I would never hurt her."

Duvin was staring at him. His eyes shifted to Nuë. "This is true, Nuë?"

"Yes, Duvin," she said. "He's my light. I'm his."

"You are happy," he said, looking at her face. He relaxed, seeming wisful. Then he smiled a little sadly. "I'm pleased for you, Nuë of Fada tribe. I wish you well. My heart will remember you for my life."

Her smile faded, looking at his face, seeming surprised. "Thank you, Duvin," she said. "I also wish you well. The woman who gives you her collar will be very lucky, I think."

Mihel took her hand, Nuë coming with him. He hid the spirit lines, his eyes turning a muddled brown. She looked back once. Mihel did. Duvin still standing with the bag in his hand, looking after her. Then a Heltasian came and said something to him and he turned and nodded, putting the bag in his pocket.

"Are you well, Nuë?" Mihel said.

"Yes, Mihel," she answered.

She was, her spirit shining. He took her hand, pointing. "We haven't been to that part of the market yet," he said, pulling her along.

#

Nuë woke. Mihel was curled behind her still asleep. He didn't wake when she rose. She thought he was still healing, feeling the drag in his spirit sometimes. It was early morning. She slipped out to go use their small house to relieve herself. She was a little cold, early fall weather, wishing she'd brought her cloak. She was entering the public house to go back to Mihel in the room when she heard it.

"Sidean."

Nuë turned quickly. The man who had tried to speak to her days ago was standing there, as well another man, short black hair, and two Heltas soldiers.

"What do you want?" Nuë said warily, her hand going to her knife.

The dark-haired man spoke in her language. "I am Belise. What is your name?"

"Nuë," she answered, surprised.

"The king of Heltas wishes to speak with you, Nuë of Sidea. This is his city. Take your hand off your knife or his guards will arrest you."

Nuë dropped her hand, alarmed. "You've made a mistake," she said as the soldiers came to each side of her, bringing her. "I've done nothing wrong."

"There's no mistake," the dark-haired man said, one of the soldiers lifting her, putting her on the horse, mounting it behind her.

The soldier brought his arm around her as if she couldn't stay on a horse by herself. "Don't touch me," she said sharply, although she didn't think he knew her language.

The man with dark hair spoke to the soldier, who dropped his arm.

"When will I return?" she demanded. Mihel wouldn't know where she was.

"I don't know," the man said. "I follow the orders of the king."

Nuë looked back as the horse walked away from the public house. When they arrived at the monstrous house the king lived in, she followed Belise, looking around at things, shocked by how much of everything there was. She was led into a room and they demanded her knife. She gave it to them and they left her alone.

The door opened and a man came through. She turned to face him. He had golden blonde hair beginning to streak with gray. His features were fine, a handsome man, older. The man named Belise, the one who spoke her language, followed him in.

The older man stopped, staring at her.

Belise came to his side. "Faltus, King of Heltas, this is Nuë of Sidea," Belise introduced them.

Nuë eyed the older man and then turned to Belise. "I don't know what you want me to do to honor him," she said. "Sideans don't have kings."

The king said something, a question. Belise answering. The king said something else.

Belise turned to her. "The king says you are excused from the protocol. He has been looking for you since his soldiers saw you at the gate, a Sidean woman with the coloring of a Heltasian. He says he had forgotten until this moment how beautiful Dwali, your mother, was. He says you look like her. He asks if you know where she is now."

"Dwali is dead," Nuë answered.

Belise turned to the king, wincing, speaking. The king released his breath, walking to the window and looking out.