22. Karul

Sunlight shines through the window, waking me from a deep sleep in the softness of Jasmine"s bed. I"m in no hurry to leave. Instead, I stay and watch as Jasmine"s chest rises and falls with the rhythm of deep sleep.

"So precious," I murmur as my chest aches still.

My eyes trace the outline of her face, her lips slightly parted. I"m content to stay here and watch her from the sanctuary of her bed.

Memories of last night wash over me in fragmented waves – the vulnerability in my voice as I pleaded with her, "Please, don"t ever leave me." It was a moment of raw desperation, an admission I"d been fighting against for days.

I"ve tried to lose myself in distractions, to deny the truth that gnaws at my heart. But as I lie here, the golden rays of sunlight caressing her skin, the truth is undeniable: I have fallen in love with Jasmine Hail.

My thoughts drift to yesterday as I stood before Isa's grave, the cold marble offering no solace. Yet, as I spoke of Jasmine, something shifted within me.

It was as if telling Isa about the woman who now lays beside me was granting me permission to let go. The burden of guilt that had shackled my heart began to dissolve. After all this time, my head feels clearer than it has in years.

Jasmine stirs with a sleepy moan, her lashes fluttering as she awakens. Her eyes, a mirror to her soul, find mine, and I"m drawn into their depths.

"Good morning," she whispers, her voice sweet and sleepy.

"Good morning," I reply, barely above a breath.

The air around us seems charged with an energy that hums through my veins. My gaze lingers on her lips, remembering the taste of her kiss, the promise of what"s to come.

Before falling asleep last night, we laid here in her bed and shared a short, sweet kiss before just sleeping through the night next to one another. The feelings within me border on ecstatic excitement in what I have just admitted to myself.

I don"t want to move. Not until I memorize every inch of her face, every curve of her body. She turns towards me ever so slightly, drawing me deeper into those captivating eyes. Her lips are soft and inviting, begging for another kiss. But instead of leaning in, I pull back to give her space.

Jasmine strokes my cheek with feather-like fingers before sitting up slowly and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her movements are fluid and graceful; they remind me of a dancer rehearsing an intricate routine. She stretches languidly, her back arching in a way that makes me stifle a growl low in my throat.

Without another thought, I close the distance between us, pulling her to me and pressing my lips to hers. She responds instantly, her fervor matching mine, and we"re lost in the exploration of each other.

Her skin is a canvas under my fingertips, and I worship every part of her with a reverence born of new-found freedom and longing. As our passion builds, I descend, intent on tasting her essence, on giving her the adoration she deserves. And as I do, the last vestiges of my past fade into insignificance, replaced by the reality of Jasmine.

Her sleepy smile against my lips is like the first warm ray of dawn piercing through the night's veil. I drink in the sight of her. her lips pull me like a siren"s call. I lean closer, captivated by their sweetness, and press my mouth to hers again. The kiss deepens as she responds with a fervor that mirrors my own rising passions. We lose ourselves in each other, and I worship every part of her, reveling in the connection that binds us beyond flesh and bone.

My hand cups her face as our lips press together in a kiss that is hungry with longing. Her tongue darts out, tracing the seam of my lips, and I part them eagerly, allowing her inside.

She tastes sweet, like a warm breath of innocence lost, a heady mix that ignites every nerve ending in my body. My other hand sneaks down to caress the curve of her hip, tracing its way through the thin fabric of her nightdress to feel the softness beneath. The heat emanating from her core is like a beacon guiding me lower.

I kiss my way down her jawline, tasting the salty-sweet sweat left behind by a restless sleep. She shivers with anticipation as I reach for the lace hem of her nightdress, pulling it upward with tender force.

The material slides over satin-skinned thighs, revealing what lies beneath full, round hips that tremble under my touch: a mound of soft flesh nestled between them that begs for attention, pink folds glistening with desire. Her scent is intoxicating - a blend of wildflowers and feminine sweat, arousing me beyond measure.

Her breath catches as I place gentle nibbles along the insides of her thighs, working my way higher until my tongue swirls around her clit in a sensual circle.

The taste of her is inexplicable. The scent of her arousal mingles with the muskiness of our intertwined bodies. I tease her with my tongue, savoring the soft moans that fuel my need to worship her completely. Each whimper she utters is a melody to which my soul hums, each gasp a beat that drives my actions.

I dip my tongue inside her slickened sweet entrance, the taste of her engulfs my mouth, and for a moment, time stands still - the warmth of her body against my lips sends a shockwave through me, and as if by instinct I dive deeper into this newfound sensuality.

Her taste is sweet and salty, like freshly picked berries from the forest mixed with a spring rain shower. My tongue finds a slow rhythm inside of her, stroking and devouring her with a hungered fervor; she exhales sharply at the sensation, arching off the bed as if trying to get closer to me.

I lap at her folds greedily, tasting every inch of her womanhood while she pants above me in a rhythm only we two share. Her hips buck against my face as I tease and explore, one hand fisting in my hair while the other grips the sheets below us.

"Jasmine," I murmur against her, my voice barely audible over the sound of our racing hearts. Her hands find their way into my hair, urging me on, guiding me to the rhythm that she craves.

Jasmine gasps when my tongue flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. A taste so unique and addictive, it"s all I can think about. I swirl small circles into her hungrily, groaning low in my throat with each lick, sucking softly at her warm flesh.

Her hips buck against my face without thought or restraint now, urging me deeper into the warmth of her folds. The salty-sweet taste mingles with her natural flavor on my tongue as I tease and stroke her with increasing fervor. Every gasp that escapes her lips fuels my need to devour her.

She sighs deeply and moans softly, arching her back as I lavish attention on her with my mouth and tongue. It"s a sound of pure bliss, like the tinkling of a wind chime in the calmest of breezes. My breath is hot against her skin as I kiss my way up her exposed flesh, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. My hand grips her thigh firmly, holding her steady for my exploration.

"Karul, please," she begs, lost in the maelstrom of desire I've conjured within her.

Her plea is my command, my only purpose is to bring her to the heights of ecstasy. I focus on her, attuning myself to every quiver, every breath hitch. I am unrelenting, driven by a passion that has been buried deep within me, now unleashed by her very essence.

Her eyes roll back in her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her fingers dig into my hair, urging me on. g.The taste of her is addictive, making my mouth water for more as I lap at her swollen folds like a starving man at a feast. The soft skin under my tongue quivers with each lick, each suckle sending shivers down her spine.

I can feel the heat emanating from her core, radiating off in waves as her hips stutter and thrust against my tongue, seeking the pressure. Her hips grind against my face without thought or restraint; she"s lost to this sensation now. Her moans fill the air around us, turning into pleasured whimpers that only spur me on further. The sound of my name on her lips sends shivers down my spine; it"s a symphony only we share.

I run my tongue along the sensitive nub hidden beneath her folds, circling it teasingly before flicking it gently with a deliberate slowness that drives her wild. She cries out, arching off the bed as if pulled by invisible strings attached to both of us. Her legs tremble and weaken underneath me, yet she holds on tight - desperately holding onto this.

"Jasmine," I think, feeling her body begin to tremble under my ministrations, "you are my salvation."

Her hands tighten in my hair, pulling me closer to her with both fists as she chases the buildup of her release. Her thighs shudder and clench around my face with every stroke of my tongue. I am surrounded by the scent of her and wild with a need to send her over the edge.

As she crests the wave of pleasure, and her cries fill the room, I know that I have found not just pleasure but a piece of my soul that I thought was lost forever.