He Calls Her Jasmine Read Online Free Page A

her.
    She gasped. Stretching. Hot. Wet. Like a water lily in a pond, her body opened slowly yet distinctly enough that every contact, each nuance of sensation shimmered, spreading through her body and ohhh…
    Beeswax and musky incense filled her nostrils and mingled with the heady scent of clean male flesh. His muscular neck tasted salty as fresh sea air when she sampled it with her tongue. The ring in one of his nipples gently abraded her shoulder. When a rumble of pleasure erupted from deep in his throat at the contact, she experienced a heady feeling of sensual power.
    Power and surrender. Her surrender to his greater strength as he grasped her hands harder, his big callused fingers entwining with hers. Anchoring her in a compelling yet strange new world where all that mattered was satisfying the white-hot desire for him to quench the fire he’d ignited inside her.
    He arched his hips and thrust upward. He tore through her maiden’s barrier and buried his jeweled sword to the hilt. With his lips he captured her mouth and muffled her cries.
    “The pain is done with, sweeting. You are mine. ‘Twill be naught but pleasure now,” he murmured as he kissed away her tears.
    His obsidian eyes reflected the candles’ glow and seduced her soul, as surely as his body possessed hers.
    His hot gaze penetrated her, the passion there tempered with apparent concern. His big body shook, as though it took great effort for him to hold back. She sensed what his restraint cost in the tight line of his sensual mouth, the bulging muscles in his neck and outstretched arms. But the searing, stretching sensation where he filled her was almost too much to bear.
    Then the pain gave way to wonder. A sensation of fullness, of heated male flesh throbbing within her body, taunted her with the unspoken promise that there was more to come. More than the delicious sensation of having his huge, hard cock buried within her, its strange adornments heightening her awareness and sending shards of pleasure deep into her core.
    She strained to take more of him, but he shook his head. “Later we will explore passion’s many pathways, my Jasmine. For now, let me lead the way.”
    With her thighs caressing his and their hands clasped and arms stretched outward, she lay still above him and savored each gentle thrust, striving for the ecstasy she sensed lay just outside her reach, until he stiffened beneath her and flooded her with his seed. She flexed her hips, wanting to take all of his massive length, but he rolled her over and disengaged their bodies, then spread her legs and rested his head between her thighs.
    Alarmed, she tried to sit up, but he stilled her with a gentling touch. “Be not afraid, sweeting. I would drink at your fountain of love, that you may find the heights of joy you have just given me.”
    His hot breath tickled her thighs, ruffling the short soft hair that hid her secrets. She held her breath as he took her outer lips between his fingertips and pinched them together slowly, deliberately. With lips as soft as velvet he kissed the captured flesh, forcing his tongue through the opening to probe her trembling cunt.
    Need bubbled within her. She rose against him seeking more. He drove his tongue in, then withdrew it, going deeper with each plunge. Slick, soft, sensual, his tongue soothed her while he ground his face against her slit, lightly abrading her sensitized flesh with his shadow of a beard. Embarrassed when she felt more juices gush from her cunt, she tried to slide away, but he held her fast.
    What he was doing must surely be forbidden, but he seemed not to care.
    He feasted on her. With every swipe of his tongue, each erotic scrape of his teeth against her cunt, he drove her higher. The pressure began where he suckled her around the swollen bud where her woman’s pleasure centered. It spread, curling like an insistent flame low in her belly until it encompassed her. She gained temporary respite only when he paused now and then