"I can tell," Jinn said, on the cusp of sinking into her. He was a large man, in appearance, and she was slight and fragile in his arms. It was not an easy fit. Had he been in a rush, he might have hurt her. But Audrey wouldn't allow that any more than Jinn would. And time was of no consequence. Each second hung suspended as he stroked her clit and let her adjust to his size, his movements slow, his focus on the fine line between intense and overwhelming.
"A thousand years ago, I would've come to you in the night. An answer to a prayer you whispered only to the wind. You would have lain naked on the sands, feverish with waiting. Not a maiden, yet still an offering. I would have tasted your need and returned it tenfold. Your body would have been mine. Your desires would have sustained me." He kissed her neck, the tender spot behind her ear. "But it is not a thousand years ago, little one. You are mine because you allowed it. Begged for it."
His free hand cupped her throat - not tightly, never that. Merely holding her there as she sucked air into her lungs, her body jostled by his thrusts. "You have let me put my hands on you. Even now, you burn with the ache of what I have done. And yet still you are desperate. I feel that, too. It is coiled inside you, this hungering thing. I will set it free." That should have served as a warning that her next orgasm would not be the last. It likely didn't, because Jinn didn't make a habit of being direct.