Apples. She could feel the heat of Robert’s body against her skin. She smelled him. Burning. Her mouth filled with saliva. Red. She took him into he... mouth.Yellow. If she could suck every last drop from him, if she could satisfy him, somehow it might relieve her of the ache between her thighs. Apples. She bobbed her head faster, trying to devote all her concentration on her task, trying to push out every other thought from her mind. Burning. Red. She felt his manhood pulse on her tongue as he. Games? "What kind of games?" Iasked."Just games. Tell you what, I'll pick a letter, and you give me a word orphrase that you think describes me that starts with that letter. ThenI'll think of one for you."It sounded innocent enough so I acquiesced and he started with the letterM."Masculine," I responded. He responded with "mysterious" for me."G?"I wanted to keep it as neutral as possible, so I was going to say "goofy"but to my surprise I said, "Good kisser."He made a sad face. "Just good? Not. Finally, a man that realized what it was about. I ran my hands down his torso and paused, thumbs resting about the line of his trousers, still relishing in the kiss. Our bodies parted then. He pushed me delicately away into the pillows. This worried me, for the split second it took me to realize that he was simply creating the distance to take things further. His hand slipped slowly around my button, his eyes in perfect contact with mine, an unspoken question, which I answered with my lack of. The Ifrit? If they were genies, why did I think they had to limit themselves to looking like an Arab woman? “What is Asra?” I asked.“A Ghul,” she answered, not even hiding. She strolled out before me, her toned legs flexing, her hips curving. She stared at me with those steamy, dark eyes. “The fifth type of Djinn. The one the sultan didn't send.”“And which one are you?” I asked.She shrugged and arched an eyebrow.“You're the Ifrit. Fiery and passionate.”She snorted like that was the most absurd.