Unbearable Need.

Chapter 17.

Jasmine’s heart made a gentle skip and instantly, she knew it was him.

Of course, no one had the right to ask her that question, and no one also had the voice to make her heart leap as he did.

With a gently eye-roll, she made a turn to face him, hands crossing against her chest.

Her breath hitched gently at the sight of him. Claded in a black pant and a black top that hugged his bicep, and a muscled frame, he was everything perfection didn't spell out correctly.

Jasmine swallowed hard, her gaze slowly sweeping down his body. Her fingers twitched, itching gently to move against the hardness of his chest.

She let in a deep swallow, gaze softening slightly.

Jerald’s eyes lingered on hers, the weight of her gaze pressing deeply on him. He could see it in her eyes, the hunger, the lust, the thirst. The way it was slowly building up in her eyes.

And he felt it too—his breath deepening with every second she looked at him that way. A quiet storm brewing between them.

Jerald took a step closer, eyes holding onto hers. She looked gorgeous draped in this two-piece that his hand was already itching to rip apart.

She looked calm and collected, different from the very fiesty little lamb that he dealt with in the red room. And this point, he didn’t even know which he liked, the one that spoke back at him with a tongue so sharp it mirrored how good it would be against his cock.

Or the one who stood lost with eyes that craved him like breaths.

Jamsmin’s nipples tightened as the space between them reduced, but she stood still. Unmoving. Lost in the way the top hugged his clothed body.

Every nerve in her body began to pulse with awareness. Her skin burned, and a slow ache coiled deep in her lower belly.

Jerald stood in front of her, hands buried in his pocket.

“Do you want my clothes? Or my cock?”

His voice dripped low, husky and dangerous at the same time.

Jasmine’s breath hitched at the sound of that. Her lashes fluttered and she blinked softly from her trance.

Her lips twitched into smug, her expression pulling into something that mirrored disgust. She didn’t know if that was supposed to be the right expression, but she knew she had to do something to convince him that she wasn’t staring.

“I do not need any of that.”

She replied, folding her hands underneath her boobs.

Jerald smiled inwardly. “Where are you coming from?” He asked, his tone dripping with authority.

Jasmine titled her head slightly, chin raised to sophistication. “Where I go is non of your business, Mr master,”

Mr Master? Jerald’s brows twitched slightly, amusement tugging at his invisible expression. She was back with a sharp tone. What a sweet name. Mr Master.

His lips twitched softly, curling into a deadly smirk wrapped in seduction.

His hand rose, moving closer to her face.

Jasmine stilled as his fingers hovered only an ich away from her face.

Then she felt it, the gentle touch of his fingers against her soft cheeks.

Her throat bobbed, lungs carving in.

Every touch was fire, and her skin ached beneath his fingertips. She felt the goosebumps rise along her arms, as if her entire body was reacting to the proximity.

“What… what. What are you doing?”

His knuckles moved against her cheeks. “Touching you.” He replied, voice dripping with something velvet and sarcastic.

Then all of a sudden, very swiftly, his hands moved gripping her neck and slamming her back to the nearest wall.

“Ummm…” Jasmine gasped. Her voice was sharp and velvet, leaving faint echoes against the hallway.

Jerald’s muscles locked, her soft gasp tightening something within him. His fingers dug into her neck, face covering dangerously close against hers.

Her breath came in shaky bursts now. Her chest rose and fell beneath the soft fabric of her top, and her nipples brushed against the bra that barely concealed them—aching and needy.

His muscles twitched, cock jerking violently in his trousers.

His snout flared, her sweet scent wrapping around his nostril.

His face moved closer, the bream of his nose grazing the sides of her face.

Jasmin’s stomach flipped, pussy pinching slightly.

Her fingers twitched gently, curling tightly as sensation brushed the layers of her skin.

His nose moved deeper, lips hovering closer to her ear.

Her body twitched, heart thrumming loudly against her ear.

His lips brushed against her ear and a sharp feeling of sensation crashed into her.

Her lips parted, nipples tightening under the shelter of her bra.

She should pull away, she should kick him in the groin to stop him, but her poor needy self could not bring herself to.

Her fingers only curled tighter beside her, body twitching at every hungry breath he released against her skin.

Jerald grip on her neck tightened, lips trailing against her neckline.

His breath was fire, and every brush of his mouth sent another wild current down her spine. Her thighs clenched, her body betraying her completely.

“Are you wet?” his octava came out low, dropping a heat against her pussy and she felt it, the moist between her thighs.

She pressed her legs together, trying to bury the burn between her thighs, but he was quick to bury his knees between her thighs, obstructing her from closing.

His lips curled. Her actions alone had proven to him that she was wet.

His hands moved, slowly trailing down her stomach and with every step of his fingers, her breathing turned heavier, and her desire grew thicker, pussy dripping harder and desiring him more than she had ever desired anything in the world.

Her body arched slightly into his, instinct begging for friction—begging to be touched, to be devoured.

But he didn’t rush. His fingers dragged just a breath away from her heat, building the tension till it ached.

And Jasmine… Jasmine burned, the need for him turning unbearable.