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"Do so, then, my love."

"This joke is not funny, husband. I fear for your soul's balance."

"Indulge me, darling, just this once," I said, and she gave a hesitant nod.
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And with her words as awkward as a first-time ritual player, she said "I wish for gold enough that we would never need want for more."

The key fit, the lock opened. The barrier to my power was now a rushing torrent pouring into me, and I was a swimmer striving to redirect a flood from within it.
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Gold enough... Gold enough... A vision flashed by of a fountain bursting through the floor, spraying gold pieces- and the entire building collapsing under the violence of its arrival. The power twisted. Gold enough, a flood of gold, molten gold pouring over Bekhat until she was as a golden statue- never to want for more. The legendary maliciousness of the Djinn and their power were, it seemed, inseparable. My hand was the monkey's paw.

It was with the greatest effort I have ever known that I was able to twist the vicious intent of the magic away from Bekhat. It earthed itself in the bed we had so lately pushed to its limits, turning the entirety to solid gold.

Bekhat stared at me in stark terror. I have no idea just what she saw in that struggle, but it could not have been human, could not have been the husband she knew. Soothing words positioned themselves on my tongue, yet a sluggishness had overtaken me and I could not so much as form the first. It was with what I was later told was a slightly pathetic look that I collapsed to the packed earth of our floor.

When I awakened, everything was better. I could feel the softness of pillows about me, and something felt absolutely wonderful. It was with bleary eyes that I lifted my head and saw that Bekhat had chosen to awaken me in much the same way I had her.
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She saw me stir and removed my manhood from her mouth to say, with the air of an excuse, "You looked so needful, my husband," before resuming. I lay my head back on the piled blankets, groaning slightly as she took my entire length into her throat like a conjurer's trick, held it there, and withdrew entirely to start again. It was in less time than a quarter-shekel candle's lifespan that I grew close, and with my hands tangled in her soft hair, held her nose to my belly as she swallowed my seed.