Read Online He Calls Her Jasmine by Ann Jacobs - Free Book Online

muscular shoulders, her gaze locked with his. Her entire being focused on the delicious sensation of fullness. The feelings coursed through her body one nerve to the next until she trembled with the intensity of them.
    Jumbled feelings. Love for this strong knight who saved her from rape and certain death, took her in, and gave her pleasure beyond her wildest fantasies. Desire so intense that every time she clasped his cock within her body she wished she never had to let it go.
    “Rajah…” Rolfe spoke softly to the horse in a strange, melodic language Jasmine had never heard before, and Rajah began to plod slowly along the path they’d taken moments earlier.
    “Oh!” The horse’s motion jostled them, just enough to heighten the delightful sensation of being filled beyond full with her lover’s huge, hard cock. “Fuck me harder…yesss. I want to touch you.” She burrowed beneath his tunic, seeking contact with warm, satiny skin.
    “We could be seen along the road, sweeting.” He glanced about, as though looking for their escort. “Even now my men may be close enough to see what we do.”
    Rajah picked up the pace, setting off vibrations that began where they were joined and radiated through her with every contact of the destrier’s hooves upon the firm surface of the road. Even the thought of being observed heightened her erotic pleasure. “This feels so delicious, I care not.” She tasted the firm, slightly salty sweat at the base of his neck and down the slit that left a tanned strip of his massive chest bare.
    “Use your cunt like a fist. Yes. God yes. Squeeze me.” Rolfe gasped, as though the effort it took to speak had stolen his breath. “I thank God I found you, sweeting. Oh, yes. Like that. Milk out my seed.” He groaned, a loud, guttural sound that seemed to rumble from somewhere deep in his chest.
    When his cock spasmed and began spurting his scalding seed deep inside her, the sensations triggered her own shuddering climax. Her quim clenched with every spasm. Shards of sensation spread, then burst in tiny explosions. Each explosion came stronger than the last, and they kept coming. More and more waves wracked her body until she slumped on his chest, limp and spent.
    ‘Twas only when they came in sight of Hedgewick as the sun was setting that he lifted her off him and arranged their clothing. “We will sample yet another of life’s pleasures in the privacy of my solar.”
     

* * * * *
    That night Rolfe noticed Jasmine’s withdrawal. ‘Twas almost as though her mind had fled, toward some place where he could not go. Though she’d bathed him and herself, she now stood, her luscious body still wrapped in a linen drying cloth, staring out an arrow slit into the darkness.
    “Sweeting?” He hated times like this, when he couldn’t reach her. “Do memories trouble you again this night?”
    “Nay. ‘Tis the lack of them that plague me. To have no past and no future—”
    “Your future is here, with me.” When Rolfe came near and enfolded her in his arms, he realized mere words would not convince her. “I love you, my Jasmine.”
    “Yet you cannot wed with me, for I have naught but myself to recommend me. Any children I give you will be bastards. I wish…”
    Rolfe wished, as well. “I would wed with you. But you deserve more than a landless knight who holds this rotting pile of stone in his brother’s name. Be assured that you hold my heart in your soft, talented hands. Forever.”
    A cool, damp wind gusted through the solar, making the candles flicker in their sconces. Jasmine shivered as she pulled the linen tighter around her shoulders.
    “Sweeting, come to bed before you catch a chill.” Rolfe shepherded her toward the big bed, wishing he could dispel her melancholy mood. “Will you pick a scene for us to re-enact this night?” he asked when she stopped by the window seat and stared down at the book that lay open there.
    “Nay.” Turning away, she went to the bed and