Jasmine Joseph Novels & Stories

Crying in regret) Jasmine :I have been so fool for not trusting him. I cause my dad death and I have been so bad to victor please victor come back to me. Pleaseeee She cry from morning till her eyes can't shed tears again Just then she carried her gun Jasmine : kayak you will regret for making me like this. You will pay for this. I swear with my life She takes her hunting gun go back to the base and she killed all the 2000+ soldiers now remaining just kayak

Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I’m actually married to such a handsome and successful man. “As you all must have heard, a new Director of Product Design has been recruited and she’s seated right here with us.” He does a hand gesture towards Jasmine who is smiling politely at us. “Miss Jasmine Bradfords.” Jasmine’s smile grows wider as she looks at us, the team leaders. “It’s such an honor for me to be here. I look forward to working with you all. I hope we work together to create better perfumes and make PHOROMA keep being the global sensation that it is.”

Jasmine leaned back in her chair, her eyes wide as she tried to process what Tristan had just said. The moment it sank in, her mouth parted slightly. “Oh my goodness!” She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she glanced at Asher, then back at Tristan. “M-Mr. Yates, I don’t know what to say…” Asher’s eyes also widened as he too was taken aback by Tristan’s offer. Jasmine leading the design process of the Maple City project would definitely be a huge stepping stone in her career.

Out of backs arched in defiance and men taught to obey with a single look. Jasmine sat on the throne with her legs slightly parted, one bare foot resting on the velvet-covered armrest like she owned every inch of it. Her fingers played lazily with a ring she’d stolen off a dead man’s finger the night before. Her thighs still smelled like smoke and sex and vengeance. Not a single wolf in the chamber met her gaze. Not even Roger. Especially not Roger. Because he knew—better than any of them—that she had crossed the line that no woman before her had dared.

“How lucky you must be. Barely in here a month and already you’ve given him what none of us ever could. A child.” Her tone turned brittle at the end jealousy dripping through every syllable. Jasmine rose gracefully from her seat circling me like a predator sizing up prey. She smelled of roses and smoke a heady mixture that made my stomach churn. Ughhewww! She stopped in front of me tilting her head. “Tell me Arielle, does it feel good? To be so unworthy yet so useful?” she murmured drawing out my name as though it were an insult. “I don’t need to feel good about anything. Least of all you.” I glared at her my chin tilting up the way it had when Kael had stood before me earlier.

Jasmine repeated, "you really are from the island." "I'm your English slut, your French whore, your teenage dream," Dana declared, even though she was in her early twenties. Jasmine continued fucking her teenage dream, yet another fantasy of hers was becoming a reality. Although she was mostly submissive and a born pleaser, once in a while she fantasized of domming a young girl, disciplining a student who had pissed her off. Imagining Jenna, an eighteen year old student from last semester who was a pain in the ass submitting to her had occurred a few times and now Jasmine had her own teenager to dominate. These thoughts had Jasmine thrusting hard and deep into her slut's ass, each deep forwa

“Keep talking, Amelia. I know you are afraid, but trust me I will find you. I just need to reach your mind.” “Who are you? How are you able to do this?” Amelia asked. “Am I going crazy?” Jasmine scoffed. “No. I’m Jasmine Peters. I may be the crazy one. Just keep talking to me okay. It will be over soon. I know you are afraid.” “Yes please, please! I’m running out of air!”

Then, we would go on a livestream for people who liked our content before cooking dinner with Grandpa. That night, I planted the jasmine in the garden, right next to our bedroom window, so that I could wake up to its fragrance in the mornings. Jason watered the plant for me, then he wrapped his arm around my waist from behind. “Are you okay?” he asked. I leaned back against him and said, “I’m more than okay.” I meant it because I finally understood that some people were destined to stay in the past. They were meant to teach you a lesson and shape you into something new before making their exit.

Damien said, his voice sounding incredibly soft yet terrifyingly hollow. The woman swallowed hard, her small hands clutching the edge of her dark robes as she tried to maintain her composure under his intense scrutiny. "My name is Jasmine, Alpha Damien, and I have served the secret order as the primary scribe for the last twelve seasons," she answered, her voice trembling slightly with an underlying fear that she could not entirely conceal.

“She’s not just Isla’s mother, Damon. She’s…” “An Omega,” I cut in, my tone colder than I intended. “An Omega who should never have been in my bed. An Omega who should have never carried my child. She carried her, and by some miracle, managed to give birth to her. If I am choosing to be merciful for that, for her game, it is because I know that it shouldn’t have happened the way that it did in the first place.”