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Her nails dig into my arms. I can feel the heady rush of blood coursing through my veins, the beast within begging for release. Jasmine's body is a symphony of moans and gasps beneath mine. Her thighs tremble with each powerful stroke as she clings to me desperately, urging me to go deeper even as I sink deeper still.
With a low growl, I plunge my cock deep into her one last time, feeling her walls clench around me in sweet ecstasy as she comes undone with a sharp cry that echoes around the room. We shudder together, our bodies moving in a rhythm that seems almost otherworldly.
Every time she contracts around me, it brings her closer to orgasm once again while also pushing me closer to my own impending climax. Her breath quickens against my neck, hot and ragged, as she pleads for more.
Our kisses are desperate now, a hungry clashing of moans and tongue. My body tenses uncontrollably, and I feel my seed pouring out inside her with a primal roar echoing through the room. It's unlike anything I've felt before - raw and powerful and intense. It takes all my strength not to collapse on top of her fully spent.
Our panting moans fill the room as we come down together. It feels like this is what we were meant for all along.
8
JASMINE
The sunlight streams in from the tall glass windows lining the wall of the room. My eyes, still heavy with sleep, resist opening as my body tries to cling to the pull weighing me down. I roll over with a grumble, stretching my aching muscles, my naked body worn and sated from the night before.
“By Beow,” I whisper to myself, bringing my hand to my mouth as my cheeks warm with the memory of last night.
I can’t wrap my head around the tenderness Karul showed. The connection we had was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, so much so that he couldn’t help himself, spilling into me with a straining quickness that I could tell he was embarrassed about.
I roll over to face the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. There is a note in the pillow written in an elegant scrawl.
There is a servant waiting outside for you. She is mute.
I pause halfway through the note, turning to glance at the heavy wooden door.
Mute? Why would the servant be mute?
The rest of the note says that I can order the servants, and they’ll respond without question.
The personal servants are mute, so they won’t be able to say anything.
I return the note to the pillow and climb out of the oversized bed. When I pull open the door, there is indeed a servant waiting outside.
“Hello,” I say quietly. She may be mute, but I won’t be rude. I, more than anyone, understand what it’s like to serve.
Though she’s a dark elf, she keeps her eyes downcast. She gestures to the room, not daring to look at me. As I step back from the doorway, she walks into the room and heads straight to the bathroom, and begins drawing a bath in the giant claw foot tub.
As I sink into the massive tub, the warmth of the water soothes my aching muscles. Every inch of me feels awakened, every sense sharpened. I've never felt more like a real woman than I do this morning, my body still warm with the lingering memories of the night we shared.
My heart flutters in nervous excitement at the thought of seeing him again. Karul, with his platinum hair and the scars that map his body—a testament to his survival against a cruel fate. Last night, he was not the rebellious playboy I thought him to be, but something else entirely, something real.
I slide down, the water rising to my neck, and allow myself to bask in the heat of the water, getting lost in replaying the way Karul's hands touched every inch of my body.
After a while, the thoughts become too intense to bear. I lift myself out of the tub, my movements fluid and graceful, barely recognizing the reflection that gazes back at me from the mirror. Blue eyes sparkle, no longer dull with resignation. They are alive with secrets now, secrets shared beneath the moon's approving gaze.
"Will he come to see me today?" I ask the reflection, trying to quell the little twinge of hope fluttering within my chest.
But as I make my way through the sprawling mansion, my excitement dims with each empty corridor, with each silent room. His absence is a cold whisper against my skin, raising goosebumps. He's not here. Not today. The realization settles heavily in my stomach, and I bite my lip to stifle the disappointment.
"Where is he?" I wonder aloud, my words dissipating into the vastness of the chamber.
The days drift by. One after another, they pass in a blur of sameness, each morning a repeat of the last. I find myself drawn to the window, watching as if my gaze alone could summon him. But like a shadow chased by light, he remains elusive, a figment of desire just beyond reach.
"Karul," I whisper to the dusk, the name a prayer, a plea. It's foolish to think he would appear simply because I wish it so. Yet, I can't help but remember the promise etched in the lines of his body, the tender fierceness in his touch.
Time stretches taut, the wait an eternity condensed into heartbeats. And still, he doesn't come. The mansion looms large and empty around me, its opulence a gilded cage. I am caged once more, the fleeting taste of freedom now bitter on my tongue.
"Maybe he's forgotten me," I concede, the admission like a shard of ice in my veins.
